(𝘛𝘞: 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘴.)

...ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʀᴜsᴛ ᴀ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴏʀ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ...

sᴏɴɢ: ᴅᴏʟʟʜᴏᴜsᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇʟᴀɴɪᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴛɪɴᴇᴢ

01:43 ━━━━●───── 03:52

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ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

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I squeeze my eyes shut just like I did when I was five. I guess I still believe the pain will go away if I lay as still as possible and count to one hundred and one… two, three.

“Show no emotion,” my sixteen year-old sister whispered to me once. “And whatever you do-“ there was a dead look in her eyes that scared me. “Don’t scream. He’ll make it hurt until you can’t breathe. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“JazaBell, Daddy wants to see you, girl,” my dad had called me into his bedroom. I followed his instructions. Why? Because I was scared of him and what he could do. Sister says that’s why she doesn’t leave, because he always finds us. Always.

Sometimes I feel like his babydoll. He plays with me roughly, whispers in my ear and pulls my hair. He rubs me and sighs my name. Even now- as I peek from beneath my lids, he pulls away sweaty and sticky done playing.

“Girls, girls. You know Daddy loves his girls,” he mutters, touching my hair. I flinch softly, clutching the sheets.

“Don’t pull away, he doesn’t like that either,” Sister had said once, rubbing lipstick onto her lips, her belly showing from beneath her crop-top. “Don’t talk back,” she lit her cigarette and bent back to face me. “Don’t call him anything but ‘Daddy’. If you have to moan, if it hurts too bad, say ‘Daddy’. Never say ‘stop’. Got it?”

Sister said she’s not Daddy’s kid by blood. She also said she’d known Daddy since she could first remember. And sometimes, I miss her. She would curl my hair and make me real pretty. She would call me funny names and cook stuff for me. Sometimes she would even take my place if Daddy was hungry for something else besides food.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Sometimes you get immune to it. Then you let him use you. It’ll be okay. One day we’ll get out of here, together. Because that’s what sisters do.”

And that’s why Daddy got rid of her. I still remember how she screamed ‘help’ until blood spilled from her mouth and she started choking. How he twisted the blade over and over and over again. Sister told me to run. And Daddy dared me to move. He told me this was my lesson, this is what happened to those who tried to escape.

“Run JazaBell, run!” The blade went down again and again, she arched her back, her eyes rolling as she screamed, scarlet colored tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. “Run. Please, please.”

I stood there, frozen as Daddy ripped his shirt off and unzipped his pants. He did her until she stopped moving and resisting. He turned to me, his words chilling me to the bone, “Get in the bed. Now.” And then he did me. Hard and cold, bloody sheets- Sister’s blood and mine. But I couldn’t scream. He rammed me again and again, I could no longer help Sister, I couldn’t even walk.

“Now try to leave me like your Mommy did. You’ll be the same way as both of them. Feel me?” He jerked me forward and pushed my head towards his torso.

“Yes, Daddy,” I murmured. “I feel you.”

He killed Mommy too. Because she wouldn’t bring any more women for Daddy. Mommy wanted to clean up. She stopped touching us. On the thought, I clenched my teeth, they sink into flesh and I gasp.

“You fucking bitch,” Daddy growls, pulling out of my mouth. “You shit. You bit me.” He grabs my neck and tosses me back, pulling my hair and beating me across the face until I spit blood. “That oughta teach you, you whore.”

Sister says at one time Daddy was nice and caring. He had cookouts and even invited people over after church on Sundays. No one knows what happened or how he got to this point. No one knows he’s at this point.

“I hope you know what I’m going to do to you,” he forced himself down my throat and started moving my head to and fro. “You’re going to the basement. With Sister. And you’ll stay there until supper,” he grunted and pulled out.

Taking me by the hair, Daddy led me down the basement stairs and tossed me to the ground. I sat up, emotionless, goop dripping from my mouth as the door swung shut, all nineteen locks clicking into place.

“Sister,” I whispered once the was door shut completely. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was thinking and I accidentally bit him.” I pulled her corpse close as darkness wrapped around us. I smoothed her matted brown hair and leaned against the beam holding the kitchen up.

I didn’t know Daddy would have a heart attack that night. I didn’t know he wouldn’t come back. I didn’t know I would die next to Sister in our dollhouse.