D.O.L.L.H.O.U.S.E. ❤ Wattys2017 ❤

👪D.👪

it wasn't the first time she had done this.
my mother was notorious for hosting random gatherings.

so notorious that she didn't even have to go around town talking about and inviting people to them anymore;

all she would have to do was show her face and people would walk up to her and ask what time they should arrive by.

she told us to dress up and make ourselves look nice;
we were to act like there was absolutely nothing wrong with us.

we had to act like she wasn't an obsessive alcoholic,
like my father wasn't a worthless cheater,
like my brother wasn't a jobless pothead,
like I wasn't just a fucked up mess in general

we had to act normal.
we had to be...perfect.

however,
normal just want a part of our vocabulary,
and you knew that.

and
perfect was just something my mother wanted us to be,
but you knew better.

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