Dollhouse

Prologue

Merry Christmas :)

The house was basically a mansion. It was on top of the hill, away from everyone, and it was vast and gargatuan, as if there was a foreboding story, and coincidentally, there is a forehboding story. The Grassi family has lived there for decades, and everyone knows the legend.

The Grasii's were a picture perfect family. There was Mrs. Grassi, a very put together, highly-respected woman, who didn't take nonsense but yet still seems to be loved by her peers. Mr. Grassi, a highly respected man as well, who was running for mayor of the town, and was lively and bright, a complete opposite from his wife. People say they balanced each other out. Then there was Lauren, the elder sister, who was as mature as can possibly be, the picture perfect girl. Lastly, Mitchell. The youngest. He was different from all of his family, who had to witness the destruction of his family.

You see, the family was picture pefect. Too perfect. Suddenly, one day, the whole Grassi family collasped like an empire, and little Mitch Grassi saw it all happen.

His father cheating on his mother.

His mother turning into an alcoholic before his eyes and turns a blind eye to his father.

His sister turning to illegal smoking and illegal drugs, always moody or high. Mitch saw it all, and it all turned him insane.

Then one night, his mother snapped. She started yelling at Mr. Grassi, who denied everything, which made her madder until she grabbed a knife and started stabbing Mr. Grassi repeatedly, harder and harder until he was just holes with blood spilling out.

Lauren shrieked and Mitch hid in his closet, and listened to his sister's shrieks as his mother turned to her and shouted about her use of illegal smokes and drugs, and heard the gurgle of blood choking her as his mom slit Lauren's throat.

Mitch hid his whimpers and curled into the closet, praying that she didn't find him, that he didnt meet the same fate...

Then he heard the gunshot as his mom shot herself, her brains splattering onto the floor like sick, abstract art. Mitch slowly walked crept out, covering his mouth as he looked at his dead family, blood staining the floor and the carpet and his memory and he could feel his breath get faster and faster as he heard the shrieks and gunshots over and over again like a drumbeat bearing into his mind to make sure he didnt forget this day forget this moment when his sanity cracked and his thoughts jumbled like the ice in his moms alcohol and his sister secondhand smoke from her cigarettes or his dads words before she stabbed him so many times the dead were begging for mercy-

He felt himself hit the blood-painted ground as blackness took him, the image of his family burned into his eyes like a painful tattoo to his body.

Mitch could feel the bright lights like hot iron being placed on his eyelids. He groaned and opened his eyes, and all the memories came rushing back. So did last night's dinner. Mitch threw up, holding his stomach and eventually dry heaving. He gasped, tears filling his eyes and waiting to overflow as he got up and held onto the bar, glancing around at his dead family. All he could do is stare at their corpses, with hollow brown eyes, biting his lip. Mitch slowly walked to the phone and dialled 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I'd like to report two murders and a suicide at the Grassi Mansion."

"Are you alright? Are you hurt in any way? The police are on their way."

"Just peachy. My parents and sister are lying on the floor dead, and I'm okay."

"Dear, its okay, they're coming to help you."

"I SHOULD BE DEAD WITH THEM!"

"Son, you need to stay calm. Breathe in for 5 seconds, hold for 2 seconds, then breathe out again for 5." Mitch did as he was told, closing his eyes, shock making his hands and body shake rapidly like a small dog.

"A-Alright, I'm okay."

"Good. The police will tak care of you." As Mitch heard the sirens come up the hill, he couldnt help but want to pick up the gun and shoot himself, but he knew it wouldnt solve anything.

He was already dead.