Welcome To The Dollhouse ~Style fan fiction~ {Complete}

24

Trigger warning: abuse

The next time I wake up, I'm at home on the sofa. I sit up quickly and look around, confused as to how I'm here and why all of the lights are switched off.
All of the photographs of me that I saw on the news have been replaced with the usual photographs, as if I'd never left at all.

Was all of that dollhouse stuff just a bad dream? I hope it was, it was awful being stuck in there.
Although... that morning with Stan was pretty good. I thought I'd done it for the key, but thinking back it was pretty good.
Well, for dream sex anyway.

I check my pockets quickly, relief flooding me when I find my phone.
I check my head. Instead of grabbing my messy curls, my fingers grab my green hat.

It was definitely a dream.

All of a sudden, a loud smash comes from the direction of the kitchen, followed by a scream.

I jump to my feet and run to the kitchen door. Before I can open it, it swings open and my mom storms out. She doesn't seem to notice me as she grabs a photo frame off the wall and throws it back in the kitchen.

"Mom, what the hell?" I flinch at the sound of it hitting someone, "what's going on, what are you doing?"

She ignores me and grabs another frame. She doesn't throw it, but holds it ready to throw.
Ike runs out of the kitchen and cowers behind mom, his face bruised and bloodied as if he has been beaten up. His lower lip is totally busted and still slightly bleeding.

"Don't defend him, Sheila, he's corrupted." A man's voice yells from the kitchen.

"You're the one who's corrupted, Gerald," Mom retorts, "you're abusing your children because of who they love!"

Gerald. That's my dad.

A mug comes flying out of the kitchen, so mom throws the picture frame in return. The mug almost hits me and shatters on the floor, but mom's photo frame hits dad with a satisfying thunk.

"Son of a bitch!" Dad curses, hissing in pain.

"Kids, we're going to stay at aunty Sharon's, okay?" Mom says with a fake smile, "her daughter is staying with a friend close to the hospital she works at, so there'll be a spare room for you to stay in."

Even though I want to get out before dad starts throwing stuff at me, I can't move. I don't know whether it's shock or what, but I can't.

"What about our stuff?" Ike asks, his voice slightly slurred due to his busted lip.

"Leave it," Mom replies quickly, grabbing a vase from the coffee table, "Ike, go. Kyle, you need to talk to your father. He isn't listening to me or Ike."

"But what if he hurts me?" I point to Ike, who is trying to open the front door with his hurt fingers, "I don't want him to do anything to me."

Mom quickly ducks as a sharp knife flies through the air. It was obviously meant to hit her, but instead it gets lodged in the wall next to the door.

"I'm calling the cops once I get to Sharon's. Just do it," she orders, but her voice softens as she adds a "please, Kyle."

I really don't want to, but I know I have to.
I nod to her, which makes her give me a weak smile. She helps Ike with the door and leaves the house, leaves me with this monster.

I slowly get up off the sofa and approach the kitchen. Instead of swear words or flying knives, I'm met with sad sobs.
When I look inside the room, dad is kneeling on the floor, head in his hands, crying.

"Dad..." I whisper softly, so conflicted. He's obviously the bad guy in this situation, but I've always looked up to him and admired him so I can't accept that he's the one causing trouble here, "what's going on?"

He doesn't say anything, but he clenches his fists tightly and sniffles loudly.

"Dad, I'm sure mom won't really call the cops," I tell him to try and comfort him, "and I'm sure Ike will forgive you."

"Don't say his name." Dad growls, slamming his fist on the floor.

I back away slightly, worried he'll attack me like he's obviously done with Ike.

"Who his he, Lord Voldemort?" I joke nervously, "Can you please tell me what's going on?"

"I caught Ike outside the school," he answers through gritted teeth, still kneeled over on the floor, "with a boy."

Not quite sure what he means, I don't say anything at all.
He gets up off the floor and sits on one of the chairs at the table then puts his head in his hands.

"He's gay, Kyle," he finally spits out, "I caught him kissing that tiny emo kid behind school. He's tainted, he's wrong. He's not my son."

I could point out that he isn't his son anyway since he's adopted, or I could point out that the kid is goth, but I decide to keep that to myself.
What I can't get over is the feeling that I've done this all before. I'm sure I've heard my dad telling me Ike is gay, I'm sure this has all happened already.

"So?" I ask, "what's wrong with that? If he loves a guy, let him love a guy."

I suddenly hear the scrape of a chair moving and then I'm on the floor, my cheek screaming in pain. The taste of blood fills my mouth, but I'm too weak to do anything about it.
I look up and see dad stood over me, fists clenched with a face like thunder.

"Y-you punched me." I state unnecessarily.

Dad doesn't say anything. His hand is still curled into a fist and his facial expression is blank.

I touch my cheek, wincing at the pain. I think one of my teeth has come loose.

"I said he's wrong" Dad mutters, but it sounds like he's talking to himself more than me, "he's wrong."

Dad has always been so accepting of the LGBT+ community, why is it so bad that Ike is part of it?

"I thought you were fine with gays." I manage to say through the pain.

Dad kicks me in the stomach without warning. I cry out, but there's nobody around to hear me.

I knew this would happen.