The Theory of Normal

Prologue

(Be warned, this is unedited. Be prepared for spelling, grammar, and plot holes galore. You have been warned.)

     A little girl looked up at her mother, her hair as red as the sunset behind her. She grabbed her mother's hand tightly. She was in awe.
   She had never seen something like this before. All of the times that she had seen a sunset, she had never seen one so full of color. It was beautiful.
    An older boy came out of the house. He smiled as he saw his little sister gaping at the sky.
    “It’s pretty isn't it Devie.” He cooed. The little girl smiled back at him and waved him over excitedly. This was the night before everything would go wrong. But for now, they were happy.
    Devin loved her life. She had everything that an eight year old girl could ever possibly want. She had a nice house, a cute dog, and a loving family. She couldn’t ask for anything more than that. Well, she didn’t have the brand new American Girl Doll hat she really wanted for her birthday, but she had everything else.

    A little girl was hiding. She had heard the angry yells of her step-father, and didn't want him to see her. If he did, she would get hurt. She didn't like getting hurt.
    “Come out wherever you are...I have something to show you…” A man, her step-father, croaked, his raspy voice making it hard to figure out what he said. The little girl was confused. If she went out to see him, she would get hurt. On the other hand, he said he had something to show her. And if she stayed hidden longer, he would only get even more angry. Tentatively, she stepped out of her dusty hiding space. She immediately wished she didn't.
   Right in front of her, he stood towering over her small body, holding a long and pointed knife in his hands.
    “We're going to have some fun tonight Zia.” He chuckled, stepping closer to her.
   That night, nobody heard her screams. Not her mother, not her brother, not even her caring step-sister. Nobody heard her screams because nobody was listening, too busy staring at the sunset, brighter than it had ever been before.
   Zia's life wasn't the best. She knew that she wasn't like all the other kids. She knew this because they all had the newest and coolest shoes, and clothes. She knew this because they had a laundy machine and dryer in their house. She knew because when they told stories of what they did over the weekend or summer, they talked about all of the cool places they went.
    Zia didn’t have new shoes. She had the same pair of shoes that she had four years ago. They were several sizes too small, they were dirty, and they had holes near the toes. Her clothes weren’t new. In fact, her clothes were her brother’s old clothes that hadn’t been washed since they were given to her. She didn’t have a washer or dryer, and since her parents were too busy doing “adult activities” in the kitchen, nothing ever got cleaned. She had never left her town, let alone the country. Zia wasn’t like the other kids. But she definitely wished that she was.

    A tiny brown haired girl stared at the cars bustling down the busy street she lived on. She had just finished the last chapter of the book she was reading, and really wished it wasn’t over. Now she had nothing to do. Her parents weren’t home, and she was bored. Usually she would go to the library with her mom, or ask her dad to teach her more about how the computer works. But she couldn’t do those things, because they were gone. They were gone, and she didn’t know where they were.
    It wasn’t like them to just dissapear like they did. Normally, they would give her kisses and hugs, and telling her that they really wished they could stay with her. But today, when she woke up, they were gone. She has no way to tell where they are, what they are doing, or when they will be back. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like this at all.
    That was the last thing that the girl, Ruby, thought before she heard the door knob start to move. Then the bangs on the door happened. Then the door was broken down completely. She screamed in terror as three men in suits ran through her front door. They grabbed her. The last thing she thought before she left her beloved housed was, I wish I grabbed my book.

       A petite girl sat in the seat of her window. She had been upset all day. First, her mom said that she had to wear a dress. She hated dresses. They were always itchy and ugly. But she didn't get to choose if she wore a dress or not. She never got to choose anything. This dress was particularly ugly, a long, yellow and green floral thing.
   The second reason she was upset was that her father had left again. She should have expected it, but it still hurt. He was always leaving, flying off to some new country to treat people. She asked her mom why he did this. She simply said, “That man has more of a heart than all the people I know combined.” She didn't understand what that meant.
   The third reason she was upset was that she had to go to a ball. Hence the ugly dress. Her mother was always trying to get her to meet a guy. The sooner she found a live interest, the sooner she could get married. (She didn't tell her mother she never wanted to get married and that she thought boys were gross)
   This little girl, Erin, never quite followed the rules. She pretended to act like a sophisticated young woman her mom wanted her to be, but when all the lights were turned off, she was a million other things. With her imagination, she could be whoever she wanted.

   A tall and lanky boy stood awkwardly. He didn't want to do this. But he had too. If he didn't his mother would be very angry with him. He didn't like when his mom was angry. It never ended well. The last time that she was angry, he ended up with a long scar on the small of his back. He didn’t want that to happen again. He stared at the small container he held in his hands. Just one drop of this, if swallowed, could cause a person’s death.
    He held the vile in his hands, grasping it tightly so he did not drop it. He held it over the machine. As soon as he did this, there was no going back. Carefully, he poured the vile in. A cloud of smoke appeared in his face. He coughed, the scent atrocious. He hoped this was worth it. At least his mother is proud. His mother is never proud of him. He doubts that this will really make her proud, but he hopes it will. It has to make her proud. It has too.