The Dollhouse

Chapter 20

BLACK times followed after my father abandoned us for good.

For Arabella, the routine had rendered her into a nihilistic state of nothingness. As each day on the calendar was crossed off, the Dollhouse became a shadow of its former image.

My stepmother had abandoned any attempts of housework or going out. The garden weeds were beginning to eat away at the perfect lawn. Mugs and plates crammed in the unwashed kitchen sink. A layer of dust grew on my father's armchair.

One evening, Arabella was so spaced out that Rudy prepared the evening meal. Violet and I should've done it really, but neither us had the slightest scrap of culinary skills. Violet had no desire to take on a motherly role. And I - well, I had once managed to burn vegetables in a saucepan once and ended up distraught.

The false cheer was absent from dinner. No one even asked about each other's days anymore. It was as if Arabella saw right through us. She had started to neglect her usual makeup; her face was drawn, gaunt. She even stopped rolling her hair into its loose voluminous style.

There was just the sound of clinking cutlery and the chewing of lamb chops. I kept my gaze fixed upon the water pitcher.

Funny thing was, I actually felt sorry for her.

But Arabella Fitzgerald wasn't the type of person you offered comfort to. I was afraid that I even communicated the thought through my body language she would rip my head off. Her knife-throwing accuracy had left a lasting impression.

SoI shut my mouth and carried on at school. The weather edging into a pleasant fall, painting the days with pale gray skies.

I smiled at the antics in the cafeteria. Gossiped about the high school girls with Betsy. Counted down to Nick's camping plans.

But it weighed me down. A strange lucidity came over me as I stared up at the yellow clouds. We three sat on a bench outside, while Betsy wove the last of the garden flowers into my hair. We didn't even talk, really. That afternoon at school, with the sun soaking into my skin, made me want to stay there forever.

I dreaded going home.

Violet, well, Violet was a perfect concoction of bitterness and rose water. I watched her, elbows rested on her desk during class. God knows where her mind went during the daytime hours.

At the end of the day, dismissal came with dread shouldered on its back. Mrs. Appleby gave me a suspicious nod as I gathered my schoolbooks into my arms.

Does she know? No doubt the stories had already began to circulate.

However, the revelation passed pretty quickly. As I went to leave, a person stopped me. With his skinny form draped against the door frame, I would've recognized the pompadour hair and glint of glasses from yards away.

Danny's lips began to form my name.

"Just talk to me," he begged, as I went to join the rest of the student body.

I didn't even hesitate.

Knocking into him full force, Danny lost his balance, staggering from the sudden contact. I pretended I hadn't noticed. But by golly, it was satisfying.

"Lydia, come on-"

"Sorry," I called behind me. "I don't have time for you."

It had nearly forgotten we were being picked up today - Rudy had piano. He was strolling ahead, immersed in his binder. I had a nose over his shoulder once we loitered in the parking lot, but couldn't translate the strange foreign notes of sheet music.