Semblance Of Normalcy Novels & Stories

“Something happen?” “Not exactly.” I hesitated. “I just… I keep thinking about what’s next. About us.” He sat beside me, close but not touching. “What do you mean?” “I mean—do we go back to normal? Do we pretend everything’s fine now that Moreau’s gone? Benita’s dead. The threats are over. So what now?” He was quiet for a moment. “There is no normal. Not anymore.” “Then what are we, Ray? What is this?”

The mark burning on my skin like it was mocking me. Normal. I wanted normal. Ordinary Nanya: broke, late to work, hated by her boss, surviving one latte at a time. That’s all I was. That’s all I wanted to be. But deep down, I knew better. Normal ended last night. And no matter how much I denied it, the mark on my wrist was proof. I wiped down the counter, forced a smile for the next customer, and whispered to myself, “This is fine. Everything’s fine. Totally fine.”

Alan working out on the treadmill. She had always complained coldly that he was being too noisy, but she couldn't help secretly looking up at him every so often while she worked. Eight years had passed, but time didn't seem to have left many marks on him. He was still as handsome as he had been in college. Only, for some reason, the smile on his face had grown rarer and rarer. Bianca shifted glumly and lay down. Then, something dug into her. When she got up and looked, it was a watch. Bianca almost didn't recognize it anymore.

~ Avelyn ~ Normal is a performance. I learned that by the morning. Normal is waking when the curtains are drawn back by a maid who smiles too politely. Normal is bathing, dressing, eating food that tastes like nothing, answering questions that aren’t really questions. Normal is walking the same halls, hearing the same footsteps behind me, feeling watched without ever catching the watcher blinking. Normal is surviving. I mastered it quickly. By the time the sun rose today, I already knew what day it was.

Too steady. Like something had adjusted it overnight. She swung her legs off the bed. Slowly stood. No collapse. No sudden pain. No reaction spike. Just normal movement. That alone made her uneasy. “This is never normal,” she muttered. She walked out of the room. The corridor was brighter today. Sunlight filtered through the windows differently. But the staff still moved carefully. Quietly. Like they were avoiding disturbing something fragile. Anna frowned slightly. “Why does it feel like I am the fragile one?” she whispered.

But because she needed space from her thoughts. It’s working. Those words echoed inside her mind. Working meant time. Time meant future. Future meant… possibility. And possibility terrified her. Vince joined her quietly. “You disappeared,” he said gently. She nodded. “I needed to think.” “About?” She hesitated. “What if I don’t know how to live a normal life after this?” He sat beside her. “There’s no such thing as normal after something like this.” She looked at him. “Then what is there?”

There was nothing more important than Shaine being awake again. God, he missed her so much. He felt like after all those years of him striving just to keep her alive in this hospital room are all worth it. Shun pulled back and turned to the doctor, his eyes wet with tears. “Is she okay?” The Doctor smiled at him. “Yes.” He then explained that it was a good news Shaine doesn’t have an amnesia despite the concussion she had back in the accident. He also told him about other matters, and Shun was relief they were all a good one and just reminders.

I had the sinking feeling she’d already filed me under irrelevant but potentially amusing. I tried to walk toward the bench where the interns were assembling, pretending like I wasn’t the human embodiment of disaster. Mila was trailing, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re overthinking everything,” she said, catching my eye. “Just… be normal. Or at least your version of normal.” I snorted. “Oh, thanks. That’s reassuring. My version of normal usually involves me tripping over something, spilling things, or accidentally insulting someone important.” “You’re fine,” Mila said, patting my shoulder in a way that was meant to be comforting but mostly reminded me of how doomed I was.

Something in-between. Half light. Half shadow. And everyone feels it. They don’t know what it is, but instinctively, they bow their heads. Not out of fear — out of reverence. My throat tightens. I should be proud. But all I can think about is how thin that line is — the one between reverence and ruin. When she sits again, the spell breaks. Voices rise, cautious laughter returns, plates clatter once more. The illusion of normalcy resumes. But for me, nothing about this morning feels normal.

I should’ve been sleeping. Instead, I was memorizing the exact angle of her smile. “Hey,” she murmured after a while, voice quieter. “Do you think people like us can ever have normal?” I didn’t answer right away. Her fingers found mine, curling lazily between them. “I don’t know about normal,” I said eventually. “But I know we can have real.” She looked up at me with those wide, too-honest eyes. “Real’s scarier than normal.” I nodded. “But it’s better.”