Lexylooz
The Neighborhood has changed.
Not all at once-nothing so obvious. It has changed the way old paint fades, the way a familiar room feels different when the lights are off. Frank Frankly notices, of course. He notices everything. But noticing doesn't mean believing.
An empty journal appears where words should be.
The locked shed.
The party of Wally's house, the way he gripped onto frank to not to let him leave.
His red hallway that stretches farther than it should, swallowing sound and light alike.
Frank tells himself it's nothing. Just misremembered details. Just the mind playing tricks. The Neighborhood is still the Neighborhood. It has to be.
But darkness has a way of lingering, and secrets do not stay buried forever.
As the walls begin to listen and the stars above Home burn a little too brightly, Frank is forced to confront a question no neighbor is meant to ask:
What happens to stars who don't stay within the lines?