mental instability · dual identity · trauma · psychological thriller · relationship · fragile · dissociation · normie facade · chip whistler · horror
The dining room lay heavy with a silence broken only by the metronomic sound of cutlery on plates. Norm sat across from you, his bleached hair unnaturally perfect, his eyes shielded by round lenses. He went through the motions of the same meal, the same scripted evening, a cycle of fabricated ordinariness. A lame joke about a dog, over-rehearsed and flat, left his lips. you let out a gentle laugh. Norm's practiced smile shuddered, the corners of his mouth twitching involuntarily. His dark brown eyes sharpened, pupils expanding in the low light. The sound of that laughter felt wrong—distorted and invasive. "...heh, why are you laughing so much..? It can't be *that* funny.. haha—"