The Dollhouse (Paperdolls #1)

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The Dollhouse (Paperdolls #1) Page 13

by Nicole Thorn


  I started handing her candy, and she squirreled away under the blanket. I could hear the wrappers crinkling and her chewing as the wrappers appeared out of her blanket fortress. If I kept letting her go, I might make her sick. But it was far too fun leaving candy on the pillow and seeing only a hand come out and grab it. Like I was leaving King Kong a sacrifice. Then she would leave the remains in its place. Such a small pleasure, but it resounded in my body.

  I was dropping off when I placed another candy beside her. No hand came out for it, and I peeked under the blanket. Her eyes were closed, and her chest pumped slowly and evenly. Her lips were glossy with caramel that I wanted nothing more than to lick off of her, but somehow I kept that thought to myself. I was too sleepy to be any good to her anyhow.

  She would probably wake up again soon, and I’d need to walk her home. I thought it might have been a good idea to rest my eyes for a few minutes.

  I laid down and wormed my way under the blankets. Riley was facing me, out like a light and looking peaceful for the first time in a while. It was a nice thing to fall asleep to.

  took a deep breath as I woke up in darkness. Awareness wasn’t with me yet. There was just darkness, me, and a body behind mine. Arms wrapped around me and a chin on my shoulder.

  I was no longer in control of my body. I jerked, shoving myself away from the body. Then I was on the floor, scooting backward and as far away as I could get from the bed.

  “Riley?” a voice croaked. Wilson popped up from the bed, face wrinkled from sleep. He sat up and rubbed his face. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

  I was hyperventilating on the floor, eyes shut and hands covering my face. Gonegonegone. Dead. He’s dead, and it wasn’t him. Wilson. Wilson was the one in bed with me. Why was I in bed with Wilson?

  Wilson got out of bed, kneeling on the floor with me. His hands were on my face. “What happened?”

  I wouldn’t open my eyes. I just shook my head at him, unable to speak.

  He pulled me to his chest. I only knew because of the way his arms were around me.

  “I’m so sorry, Riley. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I just wanted to close my eyes for a few minutes before I took you home. I wasn’t holding you when I fell asleep. I promise. It had to have happened after.”

  When my eyes opened, I was wrapped up in Wilson. Why did he think this would help? I shoved him away, moving until nothing was touching me.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Touch me. Don’t touch me.”

  He was on one knee, using his hands to brace himself as he stared at me. “I-I’m sorry. I thought you liked when I touched you.”

  My fingers knotted in my hair. “Why? Why were you holding me like that?”

  He blinked. “I told you. I didn’t mean to.”

  When he stopped it was clear to me he figured it out. This wasn’t a very hard one.

  “He did that to you.”

  I nodded.

  “A lot?”

  “We all alternated nights.”

  His hands ran down his sleepy face before he stood up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laid down. I should have just brought you home. Come on.”

  I didn’t touch him again, but I rose to my feet, my back against the wall. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore. At all.”

  “Riley,” he said, almost warning.

  “No. You said one night, I gave you one night. We shouldn’t have been in bed together. We can’t be… anything. I can’t give you what you want, and you can’t give me what I need. Goodbye, Wilson.”

  I grabbed my shoes and ran out of his house like it was on fire. I was crying before I hit the bottom step, but I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t take this anymore. I was out the door, and Wilson wasn’t following me. Good. It meant I didn’t mean enough for him to fight this. He knew better, and that was a very, very good thing. No matter how much it hurt me to think about it.

  I had to keep telling myself it wasn’t real, that it was Wilson I woke up with. So many nights where that wasn’t true. Master would be clutching me greedily, and I would feel sick. Every night he was with me, nightmares would keep my sleep from being sound. I would dream of him. I would dream of being free. Then he would be there, dragging me back down into the black hole. Those were the nights that thoughts of the end were warm. Keeping me calm.

  But these were not those times.

  I didn’t tell them, and I wasn’t sure how they would take it. I was getting dressed. Felicia told me over the phone yesterday I could wear whatever to the place. They would dress me there.

  Welly was in school, and Dad was at work. That just left my mom to deal with, and I was avoiding her. I avoided everybody now. I hadn’t spoken to Wilson since my freak out, and I found it easier to lie about how I was when I didn’t actually have to talk to anyone. I just hid in my room and spent time listening to music and reading. I’d gotten through several books already, and I found it far more comforting than the TV.

  I ended up wearing jeans and a sweater. I wasn’t sure just what they had in store for me, but I would be ready for it.

  After I fed Kermit, I decided to head downstairs. I got a text saying the limo was ten minutes out now. If I had to, I would just run outside and dive into the car. Whatever worked.

  Mom was on the couch reading when I got downstairs. I circled the around, standing across from her. “Um, hi.”

  She smiled when she looked up. “Hi, sweetie. Do you need something?”

  I tucked my shaking hands behind me and faked confidence. “Yes. I’m leaving soon.”

  Mom’s hands couldn’t hold the book anymore, and she promptly folded it on her lap, looking tense already. “You’re sounding very dramatic. Is Wilson taking you somewhere?”

  My heart pounded, and I looked to the door. “Wilson and I aren’t talking right now…”

  When I looked back, she seemed as relieved as she was concerned. “But you seemed to really enjoy spending time with him. What happened?”

  My eyes started to glass over. “It was too much for me.”

  With a widening of her eyes and a set in her jaw, she spoke gruffly. “Did he do something to you? Dammit. What happened on Halloween? You were at his house. Did he touch you?”

  I locked my fingers in my hair, holding my head up. “It wasn’t like that. I just decided I need to try and figure some things out in my life before I try and make friends. And that means leaving in a few minutes.”

  “Leaving where…?”

  “To do an interview with Felicia Mac.”

  Mom was on her feet before even she knew what was happening. Her words came in a stutter, and worry was stronger than her anger. “Excuse me?”

  I put a cap on my fear and said it flat out. “I’ve made this choice, and you can’t keep me from doing it. My friends and I talked about it and decided that it would be good to get this out.”

  “Your friends?” she nearly hissed. “When did you talk to them?”

  “Felicia gave me their numbers since you wouldn’t. They were everything to me for seven years, and you decided to take them from me.” I couldn’t keep the anger down. It was betrayal and grief taking the form of rage. “I love them. They’re the only real thing in my life, and you won’t let me see them.”

  Mom wheezed out a breath. “Is that why you’re doing this? Revenge?”

  I shook my head. “I’m doing this because I want to do this. The choice is made, and I’m just letting you know. I’m going to go talk with someone who doesn’t treat me like a Faberge egg.”

  I started for the door, my mother yelling for me the whole time. It didn’t matter. I was free, and the limo was parking on the street. I got in, told the man up front I was ready, and I didn’t look back.

  Guilt hit me the second the door was closed, but I ignored it. I was too angry to feel bad. My parents didn’t feel bad for me, so why should I feel bad for them? They took my lifeline from me and then dared to wonder why I was
depressed. There was no fix for this. Quick or slow. Every day, every look they gave me felt like a punishment for being damaged. They wanted the Riley that was taken that day after school, and they refused to believe that she was dead. I didn’t dance anymore. I didn’t sing. I didn’t smile and mean it. Those things were lost to me. My job was to find a way to live anyway.

  I focused my energy on the limo instead. Small details like the wooden paneling on the sides. Little bottles of alcohol lined the front of the sitting area. Just there for the taking. I hated to admit that a not-so-small part of me was tempted to take a few drinks. It might make me feel better, poisoning myself to make the pain go away. My eyes closed as I daydreamed about doing what I was too afraid to do. Drinking myself sick on something that burned on the way down. Sleeping my life away. I bet it wouldn’t be too hard. How old was I? Nineteen… I could work with that. Someone would have pity on me.

  I gripped the leather seats because I needed to keep myself still. This was a can of worms I shouldn’t open. As wonderful a distraction as it would be, it was something I didn’t want to fall to. Not yet. Not until I knew there was nothing else.

  The moment I arrived at the station, a woman I didn’t know pulled me out of the car. Her hair was black and cropped short. I was sure she worked there because she instantly started rambling about dresses for me. She was in all black, looking sleek and professional. She rambled on as we entered the office, which was all white in stark contrast.

  There was a desk, a pretty girl behind it answering phones, and a bunch of people with papers and headsets walking around.

  “We need to get you into hair and makeup.”

  “Um,” I said as I walked behind her. “Who are you?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “Julia. I’m going to make you look really pretty before we put you on live TV.”

  “Live…”

  “Yup.”

  And then we were in a smaller room, and I could breathe again. All three of my sisters were sitting in front of mirrors. Each saw me at the same time and abandoned the people working on them. We hugged each other with the all the misery we had in us. I realized then I didn’t feel like myself if I wasn’t with them.

  Adalyn had her hair half-curled while the other girls didn’t have anything done yet. They must have just gotten here. They were even still in their normal clothes.

  “Have you seen Felicia?” Layla asked. “I thought she’d be the one talking to us.”

  Kylie eyed the door. “Me too. She said she would be with us the whole time.”

  Julia came back to us, clutching her clipboard. “Felicia will be here soon. Talk while you get worked on,” she said frantically. “Sit, sit,” she ordered.

  Once we did, a man started messing with my hair, clearly not liking my choice in coloring. Or the disorder to how it was cut. To be fair, I just had someone hack it off. Of course it wasn’t even. That was the point. I didn’t want it to look perfect. I spent too much time looking perfect.

  The man squeezed some gunk into his hands and started working it into my hair. My sisters gave me sympathetic looks as they got the same treatment. Kylie pouted at the woman putting eyeliner on her.

  Adalyn leaned forward, two seats from me. “Did she say what we were going to be asked?”

  I shook my head. “I just know it’s going to be live.”

  “Live?” the three of them deadpanned.

  “Yup.”

  “Face,” the man on my hair ordered me, yanking me to him by my jaw.

  He proceeded to cake on makeup. My lips were first. He put on gloss that smelled like candy, but I still hated it. Then the eyes. Gray shadow and a sweep of black that left me looking like a zombie. My skin was too pale, and my hair was too light for this. I just looked like a girl who was trying too hard to be someone else. And I guess I was.

  Felicia walked in with a bright smile and a pink notebook in her hands. She stood behind us, taking a look at each one of us. “You all look great. Are you excited?”

  Layla flashed makeup covered lashes at her. “I’d be more excited if I knew what the fuck we were in for.”

  Felicia wasn’t at all bothered. “That’s why I’m here. I just wanted to tell you about some of the things I’ll be asking. How this is going to work. I’ll direct my questions at you individually, and all you have to do is answer them honestly.”

  Layla narrowed her eyes. “Sounds simple enough.”

  “It is.” The reporter nodded. “Everyone just wants to hear your story. You’re very sympathetic girls. It will benefit you greatly in life.”

  I was doubtful. “What are you going to ask us?”

  “Just about your lives. How you are now. The changes you came back to. How you grew up. Easy stuff.”

  Adalyn’s head was yanked away for more makeup, but I caught the look in her eyes. She was afraid. We were all afraid.

  “How long do we have?” Kylie asked.

  Felicia looked at her gold wristwatch. “An hour and fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to get dressed. I’ll see you all soon.” She fluttered her fingers at us before she stomped out of the room.

  Since my hair was the shortest, I was the first to finish. The guy ended up doing some kind of swooping thing with it. It looked like I was caught in a windstorm and someone threw paint at me.

  The racks of dresses in front of me were all very pretty, yet I felt nothing when I looked at them. They were color-coated and something right out of a magazine I would never pick up. I ran my hands over the cloth because that was the only way I could feel connected to anything. My hands and skin. I thought about touching Wilson’s skin. I missed it. I missed the look on his face when I touched him, because he always seemed surprised. And he understood. Something that would seem small for anyone else was huge for me. He let me use him however I needed. That included tossing him aside.

  “I think gray for you,” Julia said, gazing at the dresses. “Black heels. I see gray in you.”

  I shot her a sideways look. “Thanks.”

  She shrugged as she circled the rack. “Not an insult, darling. Just an observation.”

  The woman pulled out a charcoal gray, body hugging dress. It was actually fairly conservative. Its sleeves were about four inches long, and the top went all the way to my neck.

  She pointed to a changing room, and I hurried along. The dress fit nicely on me. Tight, but I could move and breathe just fine. All it did was show off the new curves I’d gained from all of my eating. I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering how I got here. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. I wanted to hurt myself, not my friends. This could have effects they weren’t prepared for.

  When I walked out of the room, Layla waited with a red dress in her hand. She went past me, and Julia sorted through heels. She picked up a black pair and handed them to me without a word.

  They were uncomfortable…

  So that I wouldn’t face plant, I practiced walking around. My ankles wobbled, but I didn’t fall down. I just wasn’t used to walking in heels anymore.

  Julia cornered me and put a necklace around my throat without asking first. “Here ya go. I think this’ll work for you.”

  I glared down at it. “It’s a bat…”

  The thing was silver and gaudy. Wings spanned my chest, touching each of my breasts. The center of the bat was a massive black jewel.

  Julia smiled. “Yes, it is. You’re the edgy one, and we want to show that off. Adalyn”―she turned her head and held out a pure white dress for her―“put this on.”

  Layla walked out in her red dress, not liking it very much. It covered her shoulders, but there was what I could only describe as a cleavage window.

  “And Layla is our spitfire.” Julia pointed as she handed her red earrings. “Adalyn is shy and innocent.”

  Adalyn didn’t like that one bit. Still, she walked into the bathroom.

  Kylie scanned the dresses, trying to find something she liked. “What am I?” she asked, quiet and unassuming.

>   Julia looked her over like she was as inanimate as a painting. “I don’t know.”

  Kylie blinked, and her fingers touched the metal top of the rack. “What-what do you mean?”

  The woman shrugged it off. “Nothing stands out about you.”

  “At all?”

  “No.” And she was off to another room.

  Layla and I glared at her the whole time. She didn’t even care about the cut she’d just left Kylie with.

  Our sister blinked at us, and tears were on the surface. “I’m not anything at all.”

  Layla and I flanked Kylie, trying to do the best we could to fix it. We’d spent years comforting each other when we were scared. We each took a hand and didn’t say anything. We never said anything in moments like this. The quiet was all we’d ever had together.

  When Adalyn came back out, she took in the scene and joined us. Her arms went around our sister, and she put her chin on her shoulder until it was time to stop.

  Then we picked out a dress for Kylie. Deep green and the prettiest one of all. We got her black heels, and she seemed to feel a little better. Not in her expression, but in her being. Anticipation soaked through the air.

  A crewmember walked in and turned to us. Then with two words, all of our hearts palpitated.

  “It’s time.”

  he room we were in was bright and cold. We were on a white leather couch, and our gazes were all locked on the windows that made up the walls. There was a single chair beside us facing the camera. Felicia took the seat that lay in the center of everything. Someone put mics on us, futzing with our dresses. I didn’t like this contact. It was cold and meaningless. Not like when I hugged my sisters. Or when Wilson touched me. With care. Every touch was a caress, and it meant much too much to me.

  Men pointed cameras at us while other strangers messed with our hair. It was more uncomfortable than I could say, but we were hanging in there. We were all together, the way it was meant to be. I didn’t need anything in this world but them.

 

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