Follow the Rules

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

That didn't seem like nearly enough rules, if you asked me. But no one ever did. What could a child know that the adults did not?

A lot, it turned out.

Like, for example, there should be more than one rule for leaving your tween daughter home alone with her entitled younger sister. Especially when leaving them in a new home. The house was very, very old, in fact. Probably haunted, I would think. But we moved in yesterday so to us, it was new.

With a new house, should come new rules. Like, if you find ancient tools of torture rusting in the dark, dank basement, you should not disturb them.

But we had only a single rule to guide us.

For future reference, when leaving young girls unattended in a probably haunted house, especially if they happen to strongly dislike each other, there should be rules about no touching. And respecting personal bubbles. And a detailed list of strong consequences for defacing one's sister's favorite book.

It's true, terrible, horrible people might be lurking outside your door. You should never answer when a stranger knocks and you're alone without any adults.

But there are many dangers inside a home as well, and there ought to be rules about them.

Like, if one of us started bleeding copiously out of her neck. There was no rule for such a situation.

So when my parents came home to find me reading my favorite book and my sister in the kitchen, blood no longer spurting but instead pooling around her like a velvet shadow, there really was no one to blame.

No rules had been broken.