CH: 25 What is it that I'm seeing
(Faith POV)
I was trying to remember, remember something that would be able to help me, to help the people that are trying to help me, and before I knew it, I found myself in a colorful room.
I felt fear all over my body, and I couldn't move.
This was a memory.
I looked around the room; it was decorated in a way that felt fit for a spoiled person, a spoiled child, maybe? Confusion filled me.
Why am I here? Memories of what happened filled my head.
I was abducted by that guy, I tried to move, but I couldn't; was something holding me back? What exactly am I on?
Flowers were in vases everywhere; Dolls were in cases; it was as if they were the most valuable things in the world. There was a table that had teacups, plates, and a fancy teapot on it as well.
The room was pink, a typical color, but yet, me waking up to find myself in a room I don't know of brought chills through my body.
I couldn't move; it was like I couldn't feel anything, which started to make me freak out.
It was as if I was suffering from sleep paralysis. The door to the room I was in opened, and he walked in.
The same man who would bring antiques to me in the antique shop and purchase some, the same man who lured me out of the shop, slammed into my car, and abducted me was now walking towards me with a flower crown, a comb, and a brush.
"You're awake; I'm so glad. Let me sit you so I could do your hair." He said, pressing a button on a remote; whatever I was lying on moved, putting me in a sitting position, he had me on a bed.
"I'm so happy we have reunited again." He said, causing me to remember something else.
This is the man from my childhood, my so-called imaginary friend who murdered my parents.
I looked at his face; it's changed; he looks older, has more facial hair, his blond hair a little bit longer, but his eyes were still the same stone blue color, he was wearing leather gloves, just as he was when I was younger.
"It was hard for me not to hug you when I found you again; I had missed you so much, and there you were in front of me, not knowing who I was, it made me sad, but I thought maybe it was for the best, I was planning on taking you away later on anyway." He said in a calm voice.
He pulled a chair next to the bed and sat on it.
"I'm so glad your hair got longer and looks healthier; I love your natural hair." He said as he was combing my hair. I wanted to move away from, to show resistance, but I couldn't. It was like I was frozen.
What did he do to me? Did he drug me?
"I always knew how to take the best care of you, your hair and skin." He said as he finished combing my hair and then brushing it.
"Don't worry; I'll oil your roots for you just like I did when you were younger. Doesn't this remind you of old times?" He said, looking at me and smiling.
I hope you're okay; I had to put something in your system. I didn't want you running away from me, and I don't want to have to fight you either. We are family, after all." He said, causing me to widen my eyes.
"Your mother never told you; I suppose she wouldn't. I don't understand why she came to hate me. Don't worry; I'll let you know; your mother was my precious sister, my adopted sister. See, I always wanted a sister, someone I could dress up, do their hair, play tea parties with and just cherish like my own, but my parents couldn't have any more kids after me. I waited for years to have a little sister, asked for one every Christmas and birthday, then at school I learned about adoption, so I brought it up to my parents." He said, smiling.
He put down the oil that he had just used on my hair.
"When I did, my parents spoke about it amongst themselves and decided that they would adopt; I was happy, and so were they. They were going to have another child. I was going to have a little sister; when they brought me to the adoption agency and were talking to the people there, I decided to explore, and while exploring, I found the most beautiful little girl there; she had beautiful skin and hair." The man said, smiling.
"She was the one for me; she was the one I wanted to be my sister; I rushed her to my parents and said this is who I wanted to be my sister and no one else. My parents were taken off guard of me stating it, without including them, but they liked her after spending time with her, so they decided to adopt Dehila." He said, saying my mother's name.
"I picked everything out for Dehila when I went shopping with my mother for her, her clothes, her bedroom, her toys, her school items. I picked everything; I wanted the best for her; when Dehila came come home, I didn't even let my mother touch her hair, I was the one who was only able to touch her hair and do it for her, my mother wouldn't know what to do." The man said, shrugging.
Chills ran down my back; he sounded obsessed.
"My parents started to get jealous; they kept having conversations with themselves saying that my behavior wasn't normal, that I was controlling who was allowed to interact with their daughter, that they didn't adopt Dehila to be my Doll, but to be my sister, to be their daughter and yet they're not allowed to interact with her." He said in an angry tone.
"They were stupid; if it weren't for me, they would have never been able to come across Dehlia. One day they got me mad; my mom took Dehila out for a girl's day. When they got home, I was furious; Dehila's hair was done, her skin was glowing, and her nails were done as well, just like my mother's. I didn't tell my mother she could do those things to Dehlia. So, of course, I showed my frustration. I knew both her and my mother were taken off guard, but I couldn't stand it." He said, his face twisted as if he recalled the event.
I felt scared he was possessive over his adopted sister? Who was my mom?
My mom couldn't hang out with her adopted mother.
"Dehlia then spoke to me, in a way she hadn't spoken to me in before, she told me that she asked 'mommy to hang out and that she wanted her hair braided.' I knew my mom took her to a black hairstylist who specialized in black girls' hair, and Dehlia looked beautiful, but I wasn't there, and someone else touched her hair. I didn't like it." He said, his face scared me.
He was showing such a cruel expression.
"My mom told Dehlia to go to her room and that she would talk to me; I remember yelling at me that Dehlia was her daughter and that I was not allowed to tell her what to do with her child, that she didn't adopt Dehlia to be my plaything to be my sibling. When she was done yelling at me and walked away, I told her that Dehlia was mine." He said in a low tone; he let out a humorless laugh.
"The fear and disgust on my other face were hilarious, I don't know what she was thinking, but I was never going to hurt my baby sister." He said, shaking his head.
"I guess my mother talked with my father because before I knew it, I was put into therapy, the sessions continued going even to my teenage years. I guess my parents felt relief when my behaviors started to become less about Dehlia; I slowly allowed my mother to do Dehlia's hair, my mother took classes on how to style Dehlia hair since she had no experience with her texture, I was a natural with it unlike her." He said, rolling his eyes.
"But when Dehlia also became a teenager, she started wearing clothes that I didn't feel was fit for her; she deserved to wear the pretty skirts and shirts. Not jeans, tank tops, and t-shirts. No, it was unacceptable. She needed to have bows in her hair and parents, not her hair straightened or highlighted different colors, or weave." He said.
Fear ran through me; this man was crazy; I tried to see if there was any strength in me so I could be able to move away from him, but I couldn't; I was completely frozen and weak.
"My silence and not inferring was a harmful impact on her; she was changing and being someone that she was not meant to be, I couldn't have that, so one day while she was not home, I went into her room, ripped her clothes, and threw them away, I left a nice dress for her on the bed and then I was stunned when I came across a picture of her and a boy. She had a boyfriend, and I didn't even know." He said a snarl.
"My mother was the one who found me in Dehlia's bedroom, she was yelling at me, threatening to call the cops on me, and all I saw was red; before I knew it, my mother was on the floor with scissors pierced in her stomach." He said, tilting his head at me.
An alarm ran through me; it was exactly what he did to my mother.
"I walked downstairs and waited for Dehlia to come home, but she didn't. Instead, my dad came home without her. When I asked him where she was, he told me that he had dropped her off at the mall to hang out with some friends. Friends? What friends?" He said, his eyes widened, his face showing his real emotions.
He was a mad man. Insane, in the flesh of a horrible human being. This man killed his mother because she was allowing her adopted daughter just to be herself? Because she was interfering with his obsession over his adopted sister, my mother?
"So, when he called my mother's name, and my mother didn't answer me, he asked me where she was, and I told him. He looked at me with a wary look, my father never looked at me the same after I started therapy, so of course, when I heard his screams from finding my mother in Dehlia's room, I knew there was no turning back. So, I killed him as well, the two people that were blocking my path from being the way I wanted to be with Dehlia." He said, smiling.
"Were finally gone so that I wouldn't have any problems anymore." He said, then his smile dropped.
"Dehlia came home late; I guess she was waiting for our dad to pick her up, so when she got home, she looked confused and was calling out to mom and dad, but when they didn't answer her, and she saw the way I just stood there looking at her, she tried to run away but she couldn't. It was the best five months, of her just being in the house in her bedroom, not being able to leave, and me dressing her up the way I wanted to, it was great until he came and interfered." He said, staring at me with disgust.
"The man who she had you with, the man who took her away from me, your father, she took her away, he got involved, that bastard had police officers shown up to the house, I was lucky to get away, but they were looking for me, I had to say hidden, and because she was underage she was sent to the system, her case was restricted, and her whereabouts were never revealed, but I was fortunate to come across her years later, to come across you." He said, touching my face.
"She had a daughter, the first time I saw you was when she picked you up from school; my poor niece had no one to talk to and no friends; you were being teased by those girls, and it angered me. You were gorgeous, in your best fit; those peasants had nothing on you." He said, playing with a piece of my hair.
"Oh, I almost forgot, I made you something." He said, standing up cheerfully; he ran to the dresser and grabbed a flower crown.
"Isn't this perfect for you?" He said, flaunting it in front of me.
"I made it myself." He said, smiling at me.
"Just for you, you know I made your mom the same one. Let me show you." He said, placing the crown on my head.
He brought an album towards me and flipped it open.
"This is a picture of your mom wearing the blue dress I picked out for her. Doesn't she look stunning?" He said, pointing at a picture of my mom in her teenage years; my mother looked miserable, posed in the picture, with dried tears on her face.
"This is her on valentines day with the pink dress I picked out for her. Isn't she just perfect here?" He asked, showing me the picture; my mother's face held no emotions; she looked broken; he flipped throughout the album and smiled at me afterward.
"I have one for you too," He said, grabbing another album; this one was more colorful.
"We are going to fill this one with pictures of you, every single day with cute outfits." He said, smiling.
I felt myself get teary.
"What? Why are you crying, don't cry." He said, grabbing tissues.
He patted my face dry.
"You'll ruin the pictures, and we can't have that." He said in a severe tone.
"Do you like your room? Remember what you told me when you were little? Did I fit the expectations of your dream room?" He asked me, looking around the room.
"I took the note you left at the store for the so-called Pam; I got rid of your car as well; I don't want anyone trying to take you away from me. We are a family." He said, smiling.
"Now we get to be together forever; no one is going to take you away from me." He said.
Forever?
I was panicking; I knew tears were following from my face as he kept patting my face dry.
The whole time he was there, he just spoke to me, opened my mouth for me, and fed me; I was a vegetable.
I spent days there, as a vegetable unable to move; he would come in and just do my hair, dress me up in different clothing, take pictures of me, have me sit in front of the tea table, and he would have tea as he spoke to me.
It was like I was his plaything.
It was one day that he was drinking tea and speaking to me that I was able to feel strength in my hand.
I knock the tea over.
He stilled; his face showed anger.
He looked at me.
"We can't have that happening, my dear." He said, picking me up and putting me on the bed.
He came back with a needle.
"I triple the dosage; you won't be able to move for a while." He said, injecting the needle into me.
My eyelids got heavy, and all I saw was pitch black.
I let out a gasp, looking at my surroundings.
"Faith?" Liam said.
"Darling, are you okay? Faith." Liam said, staring at me.
I turned around to face him; he was looking at me with a worried expression.
"Faith, your crying." He said.
I turned to face everyone else, pleading with my eyes.
"Please, get me out of there," I said to them.
"Please."
(*Kassandra Speaks*)
He is bat shit crazy; this dude is crazy. Omg. Faith needs to be saved; he had her induced in a coma for that long, which means he's probably just inducing her nonstop.
What do you, Dolls, think is going to happen? (BTW, PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T LET THIS FREAK YOU ALL WITH ME CALLING YOU DOLLS AND SAYING DOLL FAMILY LOL)
Give this chapter a VOTE & COMMENT!!!
-Kassandra Vivu