In this house of Lalonde there are secrets.

Secrets kept hidden for so long, they might never be revealed.

Deep within the depths of a diary long forgotten. Or perhaps written underneath the paint on the walls.

Quietly, they are stuffed away until the house is overflowing.

You may never know they are there.

But this house, where there are secrets by the droves, one must only peel back a poster to find what they are looking for...

Yes indeed, you need not look far, for the evidence is scattered all over. Evident in a splintered floorboard; and in the shadowy blood droplets hidden in the corner. The broken glass littering the attic, and the tear-stained books are also clues. Places you'd never even think of, like the scuff mark on the stove, and the faint discoloration in the wallpaper. Deeply terrible battles have been fought in this house, but now that it's empty, we can all gather 'round.

These walls speak, oh, yes, they do. All you have to do is keep an open mind, and let them talk to you. The stories they tell, ones filled with regret and pain. Devoid of the more positive emotions, till the babe came.

But soon that turned sour, too. All the fighting and the yelling that was quick to follow ruined that happiness.

However, you must come quick because in this doomed timeline, all you can do is wait. There is nothing more to do, and so for the time being, lets learn about life.

We'll learn about pain, and love; about death and unadulterated terror, and what it's like to be neglected.

This is not a happy tale that the walls tell. No, they just say what they see, so it's up to you if you want to read.

I warned you now, and nothing good comes of this, so if you wish not to cry today, then do not read this tale.

But this all starts with a young girl and her mother, ah, you see the loop. This girl is named Roxy, but I think you knew that. Either way this story begins with her. Her and her father and her mother. You see she was not planned, and so the resentment started, and it started early and it started strong. 'Tis a pity that they hated her so, after all, she was a bright and loving soul.

Yes, this tale starts on this girls poor twelfth birthday. Oh, it technically started much earlier than that, but we'll skip ahead to save some time.

I'll tell you about it later, when the walls feel like talking.

Adieu for now, sweet, faithful listeners.

Hey~ Hi, and all that jazz!

Anyways, so, like that guy stated, this takes place in the doomed timeline, or, well, the Pre-Scratch universe. This will not be a really happy fic, so...I warned you, dawg! I told you , bro.

So, this will be in the third person, with the walls as the narrator. Strange, I know, but whatever with y'all. :D

Also, this was based off of the song 'House of Lalonde', and I would HIGHLY suggest listening to it. While you read, or just whenever. JUST DO IT. It is SO beautiful and is my inspiration! Heh, and a poem dedicated to the story is posted on my profile! :D

:3 Can we get five reviews?

~ITHWWTS