The House That Thought I Belonged There
I don't remember entering the house. I only remember waking up inside it. There were people everywhere. At first, I wasn't frightened. In fact, I wasn't even surprised. I had the strange feeling that I had lived there for years. It looked like a family home—old, crowded, quiet, and slightly suffocating. Someone was sitting in the living room. Someone else was preparing food in the kitchen. A few people were talking in low voices. Others were simply sitting and staring at nothing. I assumed they were my family. I didn't know why. I just knew they were. The house had rules, although nobody ever explained them. Don't open certain doors. Don't ask unnecessary questions. Don't stay outside for too long. Don't make too much noise. And most importantly— Don't leave the house. I accepted everything without questioning it. P...