The house was awake with shadows, and water trickling in pipes, resounding echoes inside the halls and so she slept fitfully, because the people inside her mirrors kept calling her name. Because the bones inside her body whispered truths she didn’t want to hear. Chilling her from inside out. Her brain too big to fit inside her skull, she was cold. So cold that all her tears had frozen long back and her blood had turned blue inside her heart.
This house, she knew it was a disease, a bloody disgrace. Making her ill, killing her spirit.
But it was hers and she had always been possessive of what she owned. Everyone knew that.