I’m lost. I know I am.
I have no name anymore, and no home. Other than a piece of home that I carry with myself; figuratively and literally.
I have been wandering for such a long time that my memory has faded. I kept my memories close to my heart for as long as I could, but like all things in life, they slowly disappeared. Home is something I have longed for every day of my life.
For the first few months, I tried to find someone who would listen to me in the city that I lived in, but I was invisible to every single person who walked past me. I lost all hope, and I decided that the city didn't want me anymore. Now, I wander through the forest, trying to find somewhere where I wouldn't be invisible.
I never realized how important family and a safe home is until it was torn away from me. Now, I would trade anything to see my family again.
"Molly?"
I whirled around as fast as I could, and I came face to face with my older brother. He'd said my forgotten name, and now it all came rushing back.
"What are you doing here? How are you here?" I hugged my brother as hard as I could and knew that now I was no longer alone or lost.

This is what it must feel like to truly be home.