The Theory of Normal

Chapter 1

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES THEMES OF PARENTAL VIOLENCE AND ABUSE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

*11 years later*

July 15th

Devin

    I’m over my family. The last time that idiot tries to put a hand on me, he’s dead. Parents are supposed to love their kids, and protect them. That cretin hits me, kicks me, yells at me. I swear that i’ll never call him my father again. He doesn't deserve that title. Not after what I found hidden away in his desk drawer. I’d love to rub that in his face. But what I’m doing now is even better than that. Right now, I am free. There’s nothing but the road, the car I’m in, and the endless supply of gas station snacks that I probably shouldn’t have bought, but did anyway. I really love Doritos. It’s a problem.
    I guess I should explain what this is. You know, just in case my future self found this and decided she wants to read it. So future self, and future dog (I love dogs), this is what just happened. It is currently one o seven PM on July 15th. I just snuck out of the house while the idiot was asleep. I took the car, and what little money I have. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but it sure is better than being trapped in that house for any longer.

Zia
    I need to get out. I have to leave. It isn’t safe for me here. It never has been, but now it is worse. I can’t believe that you left me mama. I love you so much, and you leave me. It isn’t your fault, but I’m still upset. There is nothing left in this town for me. You were the only good thing life has given me. And now you’re gone.
    I just can’t seem to find anything to look forward too anymore. Not since Augustus and Liberty moved out. Now it’s just me and him, all day long. He won’t let me go to school, or even leave the musty old house. I’m not even allowed to leave my room. He controls everything. When I eat, what I eat, when I can sleep, when I have to wake up. He spends most of his time doing whatever drugs he is on in the kitchen. If he isn’t doing them, he’s trying to buy them. If he isn’t doing that, he’s yelling at me. I wish it would end. But I just don’t know how to make it stop. I wish you were still here. You always made my problems easier. I wish you peace Mama, and I hope to see you again one day.

Ruby

    I wonder what would have happened if they had never come to my door. Maybe right now I would be reading another book and telling my mom not to spoil it for me. Maybe I would be playing with the family cat, or trying to figure out Grandma’s oatmeal raisin cookie recipe. Maybe I would be doing any of these things, but that's not how it worked for me. Now i’m more of a lab rat. I used to think things like this only happened in books. The beautiful heroine gets kidnapped, is tortured for a little bit, and then the handsome prince rescues her. My story is exactly like that. Except the “little bit” that i’ve been here, is roughly eleven years. And my handsome prince hasn’t shown up yet. The same as every fairy tale you could read, I’m sure.
    I don't know why they had to choose me. Every day they come in this room (the same one that I have been in for eleven years) and inject me with something. It always makes me feel awful, most of the time I throw up, sometimes I will pass out. It is horrible, I wouldn’t wish it on my biggest enemy. Not that I have any enemies. You know, since I haven’t talked to anyone in eleven years. Eleven. Long. Boring. And. Painful. Years. I’m not that good at math, but that’s about four thousand and fifteen days that I’ve been stuck in this room. All I can hope is that my prince shows up soon. Hopefully it won’t take him another eleven years to find me.

Erin

    I probably shouldn’t have bought this. I mean, I’m sure my Mother wouldn’t be so pleased with me purchasing a notebook that has skulls on it. I guess that's why I bought it. I’ve never been very good at making her happy. In a weird twisted way, making her angry makes me happier.    
    We’ve had our share of arguments. The first one I can remember is one that is still happening. She wants me to wear dresses, and I absolutely despise dresses with a fiery passion. All power to you if you like dresses, but I personally believe that satan himself wanted to invent another form of torture, designed specifically for me. No thank you dresses, I will take my ripped jeans and hoodies, thank you very much. I just don’t get why anyone would like them. If it’s tight, there’s no room to eat food. If you do eat, even if it’s literally a molecule of celery, it will look like you’re nine months pregnant and about to pop. But, if you get a loose fitting dress, it looks like you’re an actual homeless person/grandma. And don’t even get me started on the prints and colors and frills and all that jazz. It’s all ugly. Anyways, my Mother and I are still arguing about this. She doesn't like the way I dress “at all young lady!” I think that it’s hilarious she’s still fighting me on this. It’s obvious i’m never going to give in. Who does she think she is? Just because she wants to look like a pompous git, doesn't mean I do too. Luckily, my amazing dad loves the way I dress. He and I like to laugh at her when she wakes up in the morning. It’s the only time where she isn’t perfectly manicured and dressed.
    Where was I? Oh yes, arguments I’ve had with my mother. The biggest one, I think is the one about my career, and getting married. Oh, and when I came out. That was not a good night in my house. It all started when my mother sat me down and started talking about how it was “About time you found yourself a husband” and “I just don’t understand why you’ve never courted someone.” I calmly told her that I had no plans on getting married anytime soon, and if I was going to get married, it definitely wouldn’t be to a man. Nope, I am not about that at all. And then when I brought up the topic of college, and how I wanted to go to art school, and start working at a tattoo parlor, she went ballistic. I guess not wanting to stay at home and reproduce until my uterus explodes from carrying so many children crossed the line for her. Oops, sorry not sorry.
    Oh no, I think I hear the witch coming. I better not let her see this, or she might go crazy. Goodbye...me? Yeah, that’s right. Goodnight me, and anyone else who may be reading this. And if you aren’t me and you’re reading this STOP IMMEDIATELY. Who are you to invade my privacy like that? Absolutely rude aren’t you.

Aiden

  You wouldn't believe the look on my Mother's face when I told her what I did. She was so proud of me. It made me feel so happy inside. I haven't felt like that since I was a child. I guess that this is really a good thing. I had my doubts, but in the end, I would do anything to make her proud of me. Anything at all.
   I mean, if I think about it hard enough, it wasn't so bad. I mean, at least she died somewhat peacefully. I didn't have to tear anything out of her while she was still alive. And the shot I gave her killed her in a couple of hours. So she didn't suffer for long. I know that its illegal, but I'm positively desperate to make my mother proud of me. And this is the first thing that has worked in eleven years.
    All I want to do is make her happy. As long as she is happy, I can keep going. And I won’t let anything stop me. That’s a promise I intend to keep.

Interlude
Devin

    “Mommy? Why doesn’t daddy love me anymore?” Devin whispered, tears streaming down her face as she tried desperately to keep them in. She didn’t want her family to think she was even more of a failure than she already was. She didn’t want to get hurt again.
    “He does love you. He just doesn’t know how to show it. Now, be a good little girl and get me my tea will you?” Her mother said, waving her hand at her as if to shoo her away. Devin walked into the kitchen, stopping abruptly when she saw her father. She tried to go back but it was to late. He had already seen her.
    “Well what are you doing in here? I thought I specifically told you not to go in the kitchen.” He said, his breath smelling like cheap beer. He took another step towards her. “What do you have to say about that huh?” He leaned into her face.
    “I’m sorry daddy-” Devin started to apologize, but she was cut off by a slap to the face.
    “Sorry isn’t good enough.” He slapped her again, harder this time. Devin stood, trying to keep a staid face. She had learned that expressing her pain just made him even angrier. He stood menacingly over her.
   “Don’t come in here again. Do you understand me!” He screamed at her, his bad breath propelling into her face. She nodded before running out of the kitchen. Her mother turned to look at her.
   “Didn’t I tell you to get my tea? God child, you’re such a disappointment.” She sighed, shaking her head. Devin cowered, wishing that she had just stayed in her room instead of coming downstairs. It seemed that every time she came downstairs something bad happened.
  She ran back up the stairs, opening her brothers door. She burst into tears as soon as she saw him. Her brother, Lincoln, ran towards her, and engulfed her in a hug.
   “Oh Devie, it’s gonna be okay, shh, it’s gonna be okay.” He tried to soothe her, running his hands through her hair in a comforting manner. Devin shook her head.
   “It’s never going to be okay Lin. It’s not okay now, it won’t be okay tomorrow, or in three months, or in fifteen years. As long as he’s still here, it’s not okay.” She said, the words sticking in her throat. The tears kept coming.