It had suddenly occurred one day to Bruno… It was kind of weird to have a rat stage in your living room, wasn't it?

Normal people didn't have rat stages. What they did have was a television! And this was a television chair!

His family watched television, television was just what people did. Bruno could make a television.

He had made ramps, shelves, fixed tables, and all of that. Making a television made sense right? Televisions were normal!

And then Bruno made a television for his living room. So it was like his family's living room. One part of Bruno knew this was really really weird. But then there was a part that knew that while he was doing this. He wouldn't feel like the shadows were swallowing him.

And then there was the part that insisted that it made sense. People had televisions! Normal people had televisions! Televisions were good.

The family would gather around the television. Alma always loved her game shows and they could all guess along with the contestants.

Of course, when Bruno had made his cardboard television there wasn't anything on the television…

It was okay! It was okay! Bruno was good at stories. And television was just stories! So television stories!

And the rats fit fine in the television! It made sense… He could spend his afternoons watching television the same time his family did. It made sense!

Mama loved her gameshows. So Bruno could watch game shows as they did. And try to guess the answer! Like normal people!

Though as Bruno sat down to eat breakfast and dinner with his family, he would as always fold his hands and say his prayer. Something was wrong… Bruno knew it.

Something about this wasn't normal. And then Bruno realized… He didn't have a plate!

How stupid was he? After all of these years, and he still didn't have a plate! What was he, some kind of animal?

Bruno wasn't an animal. He was a human. Humans had plates! His Mama would be so disappointed if she saw him eat off the table.

And Bruno began to panic… He needed a plate! He couldn't eat off the table. That wasn't right.

But there were no plates and Bruno failed at finding a substitute in his panic while his family was eating dinner.

Bruno needed to eat with them… But he had no plate… But he needed to eat with them…. But he couldn't eat off the table! No no no!

Then Bruno realized. He had made a television. He could make a plate right? Plates should be easy. It just needed to be round and…

With shaking hands did Bruno pick up a crayon and then just… Drew a circle.

And then Bruno exhaled a deep breath of relief. See that's where the food went. He had a plate now. Plate was good and finally, he could eat.

It was a pretty bad plate though. And so Bruno found his painting tools and filled out the circle with white paint.

Bruno swallowed as he created his plate, he even started to draw on the illustrations he knew the dining room plates had and ended with a name…. His name and Bruno halted... He just stopped.

In horror, Bruno looked at what he had done as he dropped his brush down on the floor… This was not right. This was wrong.

Something was seriously wrong with him. Bruno could already see it, this had to be the saddest, most pathetic thing any human being had ever done… And yet it had come out of his hand. As a great compulsion. A scream for normalcy, to be a part of the family outside.

Bruno stumbled back as he held his hair and again it felt like the shadows crept into his room, the cracks threatened to spread. They were everywhere. Even inside of Bruno's mind. He squinted his eyes closed.

"I want to go home." Bruno hissed as he fell to his knees and grabbed his head… That sentence didn't make sense. Bruno was home. This room was his home…. The halls behind the walls were his home.

He now knew every twist and every turn. He knew every drop and every crooked wall he needed to climb. He knew the cracks and the shapes. How could he know those things if it wasn't his home?

This cardboard television. That painted plate on the table…. It was his. He made it… It all came from him. So if this wasn't his home. Then what was?

This wasn't right… Bruno knew this wasn't right… It was wrong. Something about this was seriously wrong. He was wrong… He was all wrong. And Bruno didn't know what to do.

How did he fix this? He couldn't even fix himself so how could he fix the cracks? And his voice broke into a sob as he curled together on the floor.


"Dolores?" Mirabel looked concerned at her older cousin. "Dolores are you okay?"

Dolores turned to Mirabel, her big eyes watering in a painful way and Mirabel swallowed.

"Something is happening in town huh," Mirabel commented. Maybe someone was having a fight… or breaking up. Or a person was dying. It could be any number of things. Dolores could hear everything going on in the town.

"He's all alone," Dolores whispered.

Mirabel frowned. "Who…" she tried and Dolores swallowed.

"I'm not supposed to talk about him. Mami gets really mad when I do." Dolores said as she stood up. "Excuse me." and then she just rushed out and towards her own room.

It left Mirabel… concerned. Her older cousin was a rather strange sort, always looking like she was anywhere else than actually in the room.

But she was always very nice and sweet… And this had seemed strange. Even for her.

Well… Mirabel glanced down. She had learned that sometimes Dolores really appreciated it if you just didn't ask. She had enough pressure on her already.

And to be honest.. Mirabel didn't really know what to do about this. Something felt… off. Somehow.

They didn't talk about it though. They were not supposed to.

It is what it is… Mirabel supposed.