Blood Red Monochrome

Chapter 1: A House, But Not A Home.

Things in italics are Karma's thoughts. Words that are bolded are Karma's inner voice. This goes for any character.
Enjoy! This book will be dark and have sensitive topics if that bothers you DO NOT READ. You have received your only warning. You have also (hopefully) just read the only time I will tell you about the italic and bold word meanings... SO don't be fucking asking me why shit's in italics and bold, got it! Okay good.
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Dark.

Cold.

Empty.

These were the words that came to my mind as I came to a stop in front of my home...

Home.

No. Home wasn't the right word. A home is supposed to be warm inviting, a haven, where nothing could harm you.

This place certainly was not home. In fact, I'd never truly had a home. This house...this mansion was nothing more than a ghostly shell.

A shell....

Just like me.

The outside seemed beautiful enough. Glorious even. A mansion large and sprawling. Picturesque in every sense of the word. Though if you looked closely you could see that the windows were dusty, unkept. The lights dark, vacant, dull, uncared for.

Lonely.

Even the tiny house down the street...practically a shack had something the sprawling mansion didn't....life.

"I'm sorry" my voice was so faint no one but the soft breeze could hear. I was sorry. This mansion had seen nothing but darkness, death, and despair....my life was full of these things. Never had the mansion heard a child's laughter, though I had grown up here. I had never been given much to laugh for.....

Don't think about that.

Maybe once the mansion had been owned by a large family. A caring mother, a supportive father, carefree children.....who fought playfully with their siblings. Maybe once this mansion was vibrant with happiness, the children's peels of laughter like tinkling bells, a home....would it be better for the mansion to have gotten to know warmth....love?

You can't miss something you've never had.

Liar!

Or would it be better for the mansion to only know the cold, dark, despair. It had to be painful to know something, to become used to it only to have it ripped away.

I stared long and hard at the silent mansion, even after the gentle breeze turned bitter and my body went numb from standing unmoving for so long. I stood, like a statue made of stone, staring longingly at the passersby who are free to walk and to go where they desire, while the statue remains imprisoned in it's heavy cement base, slowly worn from the passage of time.

You need to move.

You've stood here to long.

Longing, something I dare not feel.

Don't let it in.

I did move...ever so slowly, I moved, closing the distance from myself to the door. My hand wrapping around the handle. It burned. Though not my skin...it scorched my soul. This handle...had seen many people from my life. This handle knew of abandonment.

I gulped feeling a lump in my throat as I inhaled, opening the door steeling myself to the barrage of emotions that assaulted me every time I stepped through these doors.