The Goth Family
New Home
*Raven's Pov*
Ag.
It's so bright.
Literally, the sun is beating down, sinister rays of melting death.I swear it wasn't this sunny back home.
Home.
The dark, quiet town, in our dark, quiet mansion with black shutters over the windows, yew trees mingling idely in the graveyard garden, stone wolves flagging the gate posts. I had a huge attic bedroom with a plush window seat, red wax candles lighting up my depressing poems pinned to the black walls.
We left there, and we are in Sunn Suburbia.
The houses are pastle colours with neat lawns and evil flowers like soliders on parade. I see a woman polishing the clean windows-she has perfectly curled hair and she's wearing sickly pink trousers.
Our hearse prowls through the street, sending fallen leaves skittering to the gutter. Edward, Starling, Victor and I are crowded in the back, Mother and Father in the front.
I look across at my siblings. Edward is the oldest, at fifteen. His pale skin is luminous in the ominouse light, his black hair long and wild. His lips are thin, dark and red and he offers a rare smile.
Starling is a year younger than me-she's twelve. Her face is powdered sheet white and her long dyed black hair hangs over her face. She is sporting red eyeshadow and a black PVC mini dress with NewRock's. She's pouting, arms folded.
Victor is being held by Starling, a wriggling buddle of baby. His black hair is sticking up cutely, and he is dressed in a black baby grow with skulls on it.
And me....pale faced, dark haired, wearing all black in dread.
Father pulls into a driveway of a lime green house with a fresh lawn and horribly colourful flowers in the beds. We all climb out of the hearse and stand in front of our new house.
It's frightening.
Ag.
It's so bright.
Literally, the sun is beating down, sinister rays of melting death.I swear it wasn't this sunny back home.
Home.
The dark, quiet town, in our dark, quiet mansion with black shutters over the windows, yew trees mingling idely in the graveyard garden, stone wolves flagging the gate posts. I had a huge attic bedroom with a plush window seat, red wax candles lighting up my depressing poems pinned to the black walls.
We left there, and we are in Sunn Suburbia.
The houses are pastle colours with neat lawns and evil flowers like soliders on parade. I see a woman polishing the clean windows-she has perfectly curled hair and she's wearing sickly pink trousers.
Our hearse prowls through the street, sending fallen leaves skittering to the gutter. Edward, Starling, Victor and I are crowded in the back, Mother and Father in the front.
I look across at my siblings. Edward is the oldest, at fifteen. His pale skin is luminous in the ominouse light, his black hair long and wild. His lips are thin, dark and red and he offers a rare smile.
Starling is a year younger than me-she's twelve. Her face is powdered sheet white and her long dyed black hair hangs over her face. She is sporting red eyeshadow and a black PVC mini dress with NewRock's. She's pouting, arms folded.
Victor is being held by Starling, a wriggling buddle of baby. His black hair is sticking up cutely, and he is dressed in a black baby grow with skulls on it.
And me....pale faced, dark haired, wearing all black in dread.
Father pulls into a driveway of a lime green house with a fresh lawn and horribly colourful flowers in the beds. We all climb out of the hearse and stand in front of our new house.
It's frightening.