Mama Theres Monsters In The Forest

POV shift cos why not

    Brogan opened the door to her home with ease.

    “Home!” She called out, even though she knew she didn’t need to. Both her parents were out today. Their first day back and her parents had returned to their old way of parenting. Brogan owed her sister ten bucks.

    Brogan swept her gaze over the home. It was rather tiny and stylish. Her father had chosen it because of it’s low price-the design on the inside was just a plus.

    The whole house roughly resembled a circle. In that circle a smaller circle where their kitchen resided. Come to think of it, the whole house was built around the kitchen, which was really nice. The whole house was very small, so it wasn’t hard to get from point A to point B. No clunky stairs to get in the way. Unfortunately, the house had no doors, and, like, zero walls, which Borgan really disliked but her father loved. “It makes the house more open!” he said in response to her complaints. Right, because sharing a curve of the house with three other people was the bestest thing ever. Brogan shivered at the memory.

Last night was their first night sleeping here, and Brogan had, had problems falling asleep. Instead, she got to listen to her older brother’s mumbling, her younger brother’s snoring and had to pick her little sister up from the floor several times. She hated it. She hated not having her own room, or even a room to go into to take refuge from everyone like she used to be able to do back in their other house. Well, unless you count the bathroom, which the house only had one of. Brogan had begrudgingly dubbed that room her ‘refuge room’ if needed. With this house, though, she didn’t see why she hadn’t just claimed it as a place to sleep.

Brogan sighed, tugging at her hair. She had gotten to the house just before dark, but the terror of the setting sun still found a home in her chest. Brogan remembered the rules of this place. She was not happy to be back here again, but her parents had found a good job here, so here she was. Friendless, hopeless, and hungry.

    Brogan made her way to the barren kitchen and turned on a light. In the back of the kitchen, the fridge mumbled a greeting. Her stomach replied to the greeting by practically stabbing Brogan’s insides. Brogan slammed open the refrigerator and opened a box of Hot Pockets, kicking the refrigerator door closed before walking over to the microwave and plopping it in. The sound of Brogan’s press of the ‘2 minute’ button filled the stagnant house.

    Brogan walked around the kitchen aimlessly, waiting for her food to be done. She sighed for the uptenth time today. Without her friends, everything seemed boring, but at the same time, relaxing. Brogan frowned, rubbing her forehead. She hated that she could never make up her mind about whether she wanted to hang out with anyone or not. It was a consent problem she had that made her feel like such a bad friend.

Consistently she would make plans, and look forward to them the whole day, then have this pit in her stomach as soon as it was time to leave. It was so annoying...no, it was beyond annoying. It was infuriating. Brogan thought back to a conversation she had, had with her dad.

    They had been talking about serial killers, and why they killed. Interested in the way the mind works and devices, Brogan knew the answer. They had talked about it in her Psychology class back at her old school. Her old school...Brogan felt her heart drop.

    “It’s thought that some serial killers kill because they feel like they have a lack of control over their environment.” She had told her dad without looking up from her psychology textbook.

    “Why don’t they know for sure?” her dad had poundered without looking away from his newspaper.

    “Because the brain is a complex thing.” She had told him, flipping a page. “We don’t even know where personalities come from yet.”