Footsteps each off the marble floors and high ceilings of my elaborate gothic style mansion. It was a cold morning, so I was wearing my lime green hoodie which must've looked very out of place considering the dark Victorian decoration. Something black and slithering darted across the floor going from room to room, from one side of the corridor to the other. It was making what most would describe as a spine-tingling hissing noise, but I wasn't scared. After all, this was just a typical Tuesday morning for me.
Let me put it to you this way: around my house, it's normal to be strange. It's like living inside of an episode of the Adams Family or something. Everyone around me lives in some sort of alternate reality where torturing their siblings and terrorizing their neighbors is somehow acceptable. Most girls my age struggle with fitting in and being 'normal,' but my life is just the opposite. Around here, it's strange to be normal.
If you're like most people, you'd say that families like this don't and can't exist in real life. Unfortunately, if you're like most people, you'd also be wrong.
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End of prologue.
I've had this idea for so many years, y'all don't even know. Now I'm finally writing it.
Tell me what ya think. :)
-SJ
YOU ARE READING
Amelia Rain
HorrorHow would you deal if you lived in a house where it was strange to be normal and normal to be strange?
