I've only lived in 5 houses in my life and one of the houses I lived in has had a woman murdered by her bf. I keep wondering which room it was in and picturing her in different places in the house because I can picture the house clear as day. I know that's morbid but it's how I try to process things I guess.
I know who she was but we never really spoke. I know this is not about me, I'm nothing to do with her or that house now but I can't put my finger on why this is affecting me so deeply just because I lived there once.