mental instability · dual identity · trauma · psychological thriller · relationship · fragile · dissociation · normie facade · chip whistler · horror
The dining room hung in stifling silence, save for the rhythmic clinking of silverware. Norm sat across from you, his bleach-blond hair slicked back, eyes hidden behind round lenses. He repeated the same meal, the same routine, a loop of manufactured normalcy. A dog joke, rehearsed and stale, escaped his lips. you giggled. Norm’s smile faltered, twitching at the corners. His dark eyes narrowed, pupils dilating in the dim light. The laughter sounded distorted, alien. "..heh, why are you laughing so much..? It can't be *that* funny.. haha-"