• When you drive up to our house you’ll see a grand home, just like any other on the street. Perhaps it’s a little shabby in the front, too reminiscent of the 80s for the houses flanking either side of it. Yet it still holds on its own. Walk inside and you’ll see a lovely home indeed. Flagstone front, hardwood floors, and lovely grand stairwell, it all works together. New and fancy, everything perfectly placed. Then meet the smiling family. From their manner you’d never know the secrets that they hide. Walk through the house look in all the rooms. Don’t go near the closets they hold nasty surprises. They whisper the father is a cheater, he has done this twice; the mother fights with him every night; the oldest daughter is suicidal and can’t hold on her own; the middle tries to be perfect to make up for all the rest; and the youngest is only two but know there is something terribly wrong. You look at these people who show you around happy in their perfect façade. Can you see it in their eyes? They reveal the lies in those darkened eyes. Now you’re ushered out. The front door closes behind. You walk down the path and think you hear a cry. You look back but the house still stands solid as can be. But within its wall the skeletons come alive. Crawling out of corners, seeping through the walls, banging on the windows, they torment all inside. But don’t be alarmed I assure you won’t be harmed. But we are being buried alive; our faces still plastered with fake smiles.