The House Holds All the Humans' Secrets

"If you were to tell the story of your world, your journey, how would you do it?"

 

My walls are far from bare. Pictures, paintings, clocks and even wreaths have found their ways to hooks, decorating each and every wall. I wouldn't say the extra weight is unpleasant, because it's not. It can shield from the sun and protect from the cold, besides, one can learn a lot by the art decorating a man's walls. And the ceiling, don't get me started. It seems as though my inhabitants are blind as the sheer number of lights which penetrate my walls are enough to light an entire football field, which, from my understanding, is quite large as I have never actually seen one myself. When the humans forget to turn out the lights, leaving their blinding shine glaring all night, I am utterly annoyed as I prefer the darkness. The humans with their human eyes, cannot see, if you even want to call it see as I don't have actual 'eyes', what I can. Perspective, in my opinion, is about experience. It's hard to gain perspective, being cemented in the ground, but I'll do my best to make due with the cards I've been dealt. As someone, once again one can argue that I'm not a someone but a something, who is only an observer I find it easy to criticize those who have inhabited my walls. What I'm trying to say, in so many words, is that I've done my share of watching. Now its time for someone to listen. This is my story. I know what goes on in every crack and every crevasse of this place. I've know for decades. This is also the story of the families who've lived within me. Oh, where are my manners? I should be well learned as a pleasant Protestant family with immaculate etiquette has once been residents. They were kind enough, a little dry for my tastes but served me well. The Cambells painted my walls with a lovely, pastel, eggshell purple, a lavender one can argue. But before I'm able to deviate again, I, as I am formally known, am the ranch-style home located at six Annette road.

My story, would be told from the point-of-view of the house.

Who knows the secrets of a family better than the house in which they reside? One can create a façade fooling the public, but once inside the comforts of their own home they return to their true nature.