I propose a toast to this family. While others may see a picture perfect house, I see the mold that grows around and inside of it. A pearly white mansion, decorated with dark blue shutters that outline newly-washed windows. A three story house that towers over its neighbors, glances through their lies, and compels the others to adore it. An architect built it years ago, yet it seems to be standing firmly. But it can crumble as one pillar cracks after another. A home that once smelt like freshly baked goods, felt like a fantasy land, and seemed like you could make anything happen. But now, this house was like a neglected child. Although it seemed like a tourist attraction on the inside, the invitation list was completely empty.
A yellow door brings a pop into the house. Shameful. Because does anyone actually like the color yellow? Yes, it brings sunshine and looks appropriate, but when you continue to stare at it, the more harmful it becomes. The mold started with the yellow door, though nobody cared to find out why. She was once perfectly exceptional. If anything more than that, everyone was in awe of her. But as she grew old, she eventually became bitter. Slowly growing into a person filled by anger and grief. Although she tries to show nothing but happy expressions to the outside, yet continues to shame all of the inside. She was quite a complex character. To her, it was all a game. As we were part of her puppet show. Slowly tugging the corners of my mouth tighter each and every day. But even when the stage lights were kicked down, the yellow door would try to shine in endless dread. Performing her plays and playing her games as the mold grows. A puzzle never to be solved.
Though the real heroes of the house were the pillars. They held the house together. They brought comfort and stability. They brought the feeling of safety and were the ones that beckoned to the tourists with a welcoming smile. The mold and diseases began to spread throughout the entire house, affecting the pillar’s comfort that was once felt, now gone. Poisoning the very last bit of nostalgia and memories the pillars had left. And still, confused the yellow door is. As she seems to be standing, while the others are exhausted.
