The Myth Of Normal Novels & Stories

~ 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.

Normalcy. Normalcy, however, had become a strange thing. It wasn’t so much peace as it was the absence of storms. But even in that absence, I could feel the air pressing heavy on my lungs. I told myself it was my imagination, but somewhere deep down I knew that peace never lasted long in my world.

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.”

"Calm down. It's not for you to act like this, you're a teenager at the height of your hormonal peak and the truth is I don't blame you if it's with that hottie that you lose your virginity to. I'm just asking you to take care of yourself, as it's better to get married first and then have kids." My mother takes out a handkerchief from her small purse while I am petrified. "Please take care of yourself" she says wiping away non-existent tears "I'm still too young to be a grandmother." My mouth hits the floor in shock. Did I tell you that my family is not normal? I didn't? Well, now you see it with your own eyes. In my family the word normal doesn't exist. After that "serious talk" with my mot

I suppose with those numbers, that could be why no one talks about it. Who wants to admit they’re having mental health problems to a ‘normal’ person. They’ll just throw stats in your face about people suffering from hunger, and lack of water or people in war-torn countries have it worse than you. Those kinds of people make me angry; I didn’t ask for what I’ve gone through and the after-effects of that. It’s why you should never judge people; you have no idea what’s happened to them and what they’re still dealing with in their lives. It’s kind of funny cause I’m so envious of those same arseholes. I want to be one of the fifteen normal people.

STORY INTRODUCTION "Normal" is a frequently used word, yet a word whose exact meaning is as elusive as the term "perverse". What those two words imply seems to vary from nation to nation, from community to community, from person to person. Among one African tribe, it is considered obscene to expose one's back to others. In many Eskimo communities, it is the height of hospitality for a man to offer his wife to a guest.

"Why can't my life be normal? Why can't I be like everyone else with normal issues and normal problems? Why is my life different?" There was silence for a while then Gazelle spoke up. "You know, the so called normal people we might see everyday, wishing to be like them, actually have problems that might seem abnormal to them." "How many of them are told that they're the heir to a mythical throne?" She smiled. Silence reigned for another moment. "You do know that we are here for you?" Gazelle said, squeezing my arm gently. A warm blush rushed to my cheeks. "Forever and ever." Tisha said, bumping shoulders with me,playfully.

Maeve's eyes went wide at my outburst. "I didn't ask to be born into this bloodline," I continued, my voice rising. "I didn't choose any of this. Why can't I just be normal?" "Because normal doesn't exist for people like us," Maeve said quietly. "Then maybe I don't want to be like us." The words came out harsh and bitter. "Maybe I'd rather run away and pretend none of this ever happened." "You are stronger than you know."

This time, the groan of disappointment was so loud it echoed in the room for a while, which amused Kioven rather than revolted. “Amira’s mistake roots from the fact that she used the word ‘exploit’ to define the Psyche Plane.” Mae nodded at Amira who was sulking beside her, her hands folded across her chest. “The Psyche Plane is not a deed nor was it something that could exploit; rather, it is more of a shelf that collects raw data, interprets each individual meaning, and chose upon them a part of human-self that could contribute to the self-awareness and the manifestation of something we often call skill and ability. Oftentimes, this far surpasses its own limit and caused upon a break to wh

"Not an attack. We're going to a bar. To do what normal people do." "For this night, you're not expired, and I'm not the Council. "You want us to act normal? That sounds boring." No, you most certainly aren't normal, Lisa. Nothing can change that. Normal people don't willingly choose the worst kind of monsters, they rather go for the mediocre everyday villains and not the monsters that could be living under their beds at night. Normalcy is something I've always yearned for. "When are we going out?" I ask. "Right now."