jval
The framework of the house was unlike anything Alice had ever seen before. It was delicate, curved like a seashell. The whole entire house was a swirling landscape with no corners, but the weirdest part, the part that puzzled Alice the most, was the closet under the staircase, the closet with the triangular door.
It’s a scary thing to do, to pour your emotions out the way I just did. And I have to say it wasn’t well worth it at all. I am not relieved. Now there is just questions, swarming around my head and stinging me. All the little scary bees. And now all I did is let them out of the hive of my skull and into the open. What if no one cares? What if they fell asleep while I was mid-rant? What if they laugh, what if they joke? What if they tell? What if I’m alone in this world, a battle of one against seven billion. What if I am that minority of one?