I have no idea who judges what is classed as normal and what isn't.
From my experience, the people who were blessed with this mighty high honour are your parents, the popular clique and doctors who wouldn't know normal if it came up and kicked them square in the balls.
I mean these guys spend what, like eight years at medical school? That is on top of the standard school time. Now you tell me how that is normal, spending a couple of decades at school of all places.
I think I would rather spend a twenty years in hell playing backgammon with Lucifer himself.
Ironically, my story is pretty much summed up by that one statement.
I played a game with the devil and even to this day I have no idea who won.
Up until I was fourteen years old, I was grouped in the 'normal' category. I was in high school; I had friends and a normal family life. Not like the partridge family or anything, I mean my parents still argued to the point where I remember one Christmas my mum snapped and threw the turkey at my father halfway through dinner. I don't mean like a leg or a breast either, I mean she full on launched the entire bird at him, never even got to try the fucker. The hungriest Christmas I ever experienced I can tell you that.
Other than that, we were a normal family. Mum worked up the hospital as a nurse and dad was a police officer. I had the picture perfect role models as parents, the society loved them. Why wouldn't they, they cured their illnesses and arrested their criminals.
Up until the age of fourteen I was classed as the top of the food chain in the social ranks at school. You know the cliché group of 'mean girls' that are at every school, the ones who pick on the weak and hook up with any guy who was remotely athletic?
Well, that was us.
Hiding a girl's clothes after gym so she had to walk out naked and embarrassed to get a teacher wasn't cruel back them, it was normal. Allowing the captain of the Rugby team to feel you up a little on the school field wasn't slutty, it was normal.
At least, that's what people judged as normal. This is why I ask, who gives these people enough power to decide what is right and what is wrong?
Then one little thing can happen and your entire world gets tipped upside down. All of a sudden you get tossed out of the 'normal' category and thrown into the 'more issues than vogue' category.
Well to be fair, I suppose my dad being shot and killed in the middle of his shift wasn't exactly a little thing.
My dad, who many thought of as a hero, interrupted someone breaking into a house while he was on duty and the guy turned and pulled a gun on him. Three fired shots later, and he was gone. Just like that. I always wondered if he even comprehended the fact that he was going to die or if there wasn't enough time.
Ironically however, the people who called my dad a hero mostly started putting that nickname forward after he died. Bear in mind before this my dad had saved a little girl who was held ransom by her stepdad in order to get her father (who was shitting money like he'd had a hot curry the night before) to cough up. He had rescued the little girl and the most he got for that was a pat on the back by a few people and good hefty tip from the girl's dad.
He wasn't branded a hero then, but as soon as he walked in on a man trying to steal a telly and a couple of laptops he was a bigger hero than superman.
It's amazing how people appreciate you so much more when you're dead.
To say I took it hard would have been an understatement. I got pulled out of school when they told me, and the next week my only memory was being in my room in the dark staring at a wall. You could see I was a Daddy's girl, I loved my mum don't get me wrong but my dad was my hero. He was my hero before he died, and unlike everyone else, I didn't see him as a hero after his death. I just saw him as gone.
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The Monster Inside Of My BedGeneral Fiction
Who has a right to judge what is normal? For 18 year old Maria Valentino it was her parents, it was her friends and it was the doctors who decided that she was no longer stable for the outside world. No one questioned that the man who put her in a m...