a different lacuna

prologue

A petite black leaf on an otherwise healthy vine. Whilst the other leaves would sway in the wind, the petite black leaf stands firm, refusing to conform. The frond snaps off the vine, almost as if it had been ripped off. The charcoal petiole stills in the air, not moving, urging to be followed, which proves easy as it stands apart from its vibrant, fabricated world. The blackened leaf moves toward the yellow bus bench, sitting under the perfectly painted, lively oak tree, where the lies unfolded.

The buildings surrounding the leaflet are works of architecture, perfectly sculpted without a single flaw. Their electric paint of yellows, oranges, blues, and reds never chip, nor fade, designed to perfection, though what lies inside is anything but. Each building, or rather a house, has a brilliantly green front yard with a cobblestone path leading to the front door. This front door, with a small window with diamond patterns, marks the centre of the house. A cobblestone pathway leading from the door goes to the front of the lawn, cutting the yard into two bright rectangles. On each side of the path are the perfectly round hedges, guiding the path-walker to the front door. At the end of this path, where the cobblestone meets the sidewalk, there is a white picket fence outlining the yard, front, and back. This fence is about four feet tall, short enough so that people can see in and out of it, but big enough that one can't simply "jump" it. It is as much as a cage as a protector.

No house looks different from another. Each house has the same happy family, the same lab mutt, the same fabricated life, the same untold misery within its walls. In fact, Hades lives within these very walls, where those who enter should feel safe. There is only one demon that lives in a perfectly fabricated house, completely inconspicuous. These demons are excellent liars, cheaters, and never lose a poker game. Not a single person would know what these demons are truly capable of behind closed doors.

The charcoaled leaf elevates off the never-fading bench as the electric blue, double-decker bus arrives, opening its doors to welcome it.

The interior consists of black leather seating, arranged alike to that of a first-class passenger train- four luxurious leather seats, two to a side and opposite, surrounding a white marble table, continuing back to back until the whitened, spiraling metal steps leading to the second floor. The second floor was less tourist-friendly and more "Titanic first-class lounge". There were white marble tables- accompanied by blackened metal dining-chairs- with leisurely games, like playing cards and board games, on the left side, and shuffleboard to the right. Very old-timey.

The leaflet settled on one of the lounge chairs, looking out the windows upon the townhouses. You could feel the life leaving the poor lead, begging to be freed from its weight. Despite its exhaustion, it refused to rest its eyes, fearing what lurked in the shadows.

The bus approached a fair-sized home on the outskirts of town clearly neglected. Just outside, a little girl playing in the grass with her dirty blonde curls flying about. She looked so happy and carefree when she was anything but. Not one person saw the internal battle taking place within her tiny frame; the daily struggles she faced and would face for many years to come. This is her story.