House of Dolls

The Crack in The Foundation

Growing up in my family was never easy for me, and it could be argued that the lack of affection was what pushed me over the edge. I had an unending obsession with collecting for no apparent reason, but felt compelled to do so. They say we should truly understand what we are feeling in each moment, but what we do with those feelings is entirely up to us.

Every decision we make propels us forward to our ultimate destiny, what will make us happiest in life, but I was never happy in the beginning. I grew increasingly irritable and hostile as I got older, but I felt no shame for the path I chose. I never felt guilt for my actions or what I experienced on my journey. It brought me to Anna, the love of my life, but she didn't know how much she needed me at first. And, what about the others? I had to have them because I needed to add them to my collection, feeding my obsession.

I frequently questioned why I did what I did, but I always came to the same conclusion. I couldn't keep myself in check. I was always looking for appealing objects, first with my doll collection, then with my girls. The five of them would be my live dolls, my greatest possessions. Did I desecrate them? No, not once; I wanted them for their beauty, but I wanted more from Anna.

Evidently, I wasn't always insane. I presumed it was a slow decline, but I didn't think what I was doing was wrong at first, and I never felt anything until I had Anna.

She was the reason I woke up every morning. The reason I looked forward to each and every day. I sought her kindness since sincerity and love were lacking in my life. I grew up feeling a close connection to her, not wanting that feeling to ever end, but life eventually went on, but my urge to be with her remained throughout the years.

My name is Nathan Hickey. When all of this began, I was 17 years old, a small-town boy, with dirty blonde hair and piercing green eyes. While I was easy on the eyes, I struggled with social situations, thus leading others to avoid me. I was awkward and didn't know how to act around others, so I mostly kept to myself. When others would approach me, it wasn't out of kindness. They wanted to bully the mysterious kid who was a loner, making it seem that part of my life would linger forever. I endured it though, leaving me desperate to make something of myself, showing them I would one day be greater than them.

When my life changed forever, I was about to turn eighteen and a senior in high school. I was born and raised in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania, by my parents Warren and Shari Hickey, who owned a farm passed down from generation to generation through our family. Bloomsburg is a blip on the map in Pennsylvania, not being sought out by most, and that's how I liked it. While, yes, it could be boring, it was what I had grown accustomed to, but I always wanted more.

Most days on the Hickey Farm were spent tending to livestock or plowing endless fields. Hickey Farm was by far the most notable business in Bloomsburg. Warren, the man I despised, employed many of the town's residents on our farm, which comprised 1,241 acres, not modest by any means. In addition to being a very difficult person to work for, he was also never afraid to make people feel small, not even his own son. In addition to his weight of 250 pounds, Warren had a stocky build and stood over six feet tall. From the very start, my mother Shari helped run the farm, mostly by managing the books. She was always a submissive wife, generally following her husband Warren's orders. She was petite in stature, frail-looking, to say the least, stood five feet five, and weighed only one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet.

In the backyard of our picturesque farm were rolling green pastures as far as the eye could see, as well as a pond that Warren had dug himself. Overgrown trees and hiking trails surrounded the farm, so we had plenty to do in our free time. Almost every day, we spent time on our farm, with Sundays set aside for relaxation. When it was time for us to relax after a long week, we hosted a wide array of guests in our four-bedroom, three-bath century-old farmhouse or went swimming in the pond.