Author : K. Sepsey
Email : fadedrosepetals@yahoo.com
Websites : faded rose petals | The Doll House : VC Andrews
Intro : This is a VC Andrews fanfic, all characters are copyright to her and her trust.
I make no claims on them. I was just inspired to write and this is what came about.
Many Spoilers for the Dollanganger series!!!
Chapter One Growing Up and Growing Strong
My father never paid too much attention to me when I was growing up. He was too wrapped up in his work. All I really had was a house full of servants to cater to my every need. Although the help gave me my food and entertained me, they never showed me any love or emotion. It was their job to cook, clean, bring me my every desire, but never to show me love. I think my father ordered that. All I knew is that he was heartless in his young business days, but that changed years later, and I would always hate him for it, while still loving him.
I was lonely, longing for a younger brother to be with, to love and to play with. But I never got my wish. My mother hadn't wanted to have another child. I thought it had meant she loved me so much that she couldn't bear to share her love with another child, one of many assumptions made about my mother that proved wrong.
I sat in my father's trophy room, staring in awe at all the animals' heads and the pictures of him standing triumphantly over a kill. My mother never set foot inside that room, she claimed it would make her sick. My father never minded much. He liked having that room, a true man's room. I was always very scared to be in there alone. I thought the animals would jump down off the walls and attack me. I never told my father this, I never really told him any of my fears. Except one, my fear of the attic. But I learned from that mistake.
I was in his room alone that day. He was out of town on yet another business trip. I was looking through old pictures and important looking documents. I had no idea what any of them meant, but I looked just the same. I gazed upon the photos and wondered about them, who they were, what kind of people they were. I was fascinated by the looks in their eyes. I hoped to learn some secret, a secret that would teach me to be strong and fearless.
That day I thought I had heard giggling coming from this room. That is why I dared to come in by myself. But when I entered, no one was there. So I started looking around the room, I got distracted by all the drawers and what secrets they could hold. I walked past a portrait of my father and heard the laughter again. I leaned closer and heard muffled whispers. I stood up quickly, afraid I would be discovered. Finally the noises stopped. I heard my mother emerge from her room and she began calling for me. I heard her voice fade into another corridor and I slipped out of my father's trophy room. I followed her voice and I tapped her on her hip. She jumped and spun around to glare at me. She quickly regained her poise when a servant passed nearby. She smiled warmly at me.
"Malcolm, I have been looking for you for hours. Where on earth have you been?" She smiled quickly, and as soon as the servant passed us, her eyes shrunk into slits of rage. She grabbed me by the arm and took me back to her room.
"I can't be wasting my voice looking for you, I need all the rest I can get. Aging is a curse Malcolm." She glanced into a mirror, one of many in her room. Her beautiful room. "Especially for a woman. Men can age and be distinguished, but it's completely different for a woman. I swear Malcolm, being in this awful house, stuffed away from civilization, it's terrible. Your father doesn't understand any of this. These days he doesn't understand anything. I'm surprised he even comes home." She looked at me and her eyes widened with surprise, as if she had forgotten I was there. She shook her head and seated herself at her vanity table. She picked up a brush and began stroking her hair lovingly. I didn't realize at the time that she loved herself and her lovely reflection more than anyone or anything.
"I'm sorry mother. I didn't hear you." I lied often, it came so naturally. She looked at me closely. I saw from the look in her eyes that she knew I was lying. But she didn't say anything, she just went on brushing her beautiful golden locks. She stopped and gazed at herself. Then she turned to me.
"You may go now, Malcolm. Don't go wandering about and getting into trouble. Do you understand?" Her eyes filled with ice and I quickly nodded. I gazed back at her from the doorway and my eyes drank in her beautiful room. She had the most beautiful room in the entire mansion. My father had it made before she married him. It had a magnificent swan bed with a ruby red eye that looked down at whomever was sleeping there. Its wings were raised and held sheer curtains to enclose the sleeper. There was also a small infant sized bed at the foot of the larger bed. I used to imagine that I had been laid in there when I was a baby. But I learned that a nanny had cared for me in her own room and my mother ignored me.
But when my father showed her the room, she looked as though she would cry. He felt so happy to bring her such joy. He discovered that she would love him more if he bought her the most expensive things. This was the first of my father's many mistakes with my mother.
I walked away from my mother's door and entered my father's trophy room again. I sat there, wondering where the giggles and whispers were coming from. Then I heard my mother singing it was so clear, as if she was in the same room. I turned in a circle, trying to figure out why I could hear her so clearly. I walked throughout the room, forgetting my fear of the trophies. Then I thought her singing was the loudest coming from behind my father's portrait. I went to it and lightly touched it. It swayed on the wall, and a breeze shot through and drowned my face in its chill. It frightened me and I stepped back. Then I held the portrait and swung it up again but this time I held it there. There was a hole in the wall, and I could see into my mother's room!
I gasped and let the frame go. I sat back and tried to catch my breath. A million thoughts ran through my mind and I wondered how long that hole had been there. And why was it there? My father was spying on my mother! At that moment hate seeped into my veins, the first real hate I ever felt in my young life. I hated him for betraying her like this and I wanted to run and tell her. But something held me back and the prospect of spying really appealed to me. I stared through the hole and saw her. She was still brushing her beautiful golden hair and then there was a sound coming from another part of her room that I couldn't see. But I heard a man's voice, and my mother's soft laugh. He came over to her and hugged her close. Their lips met and they kissed so passionately, my heart began to beat faster. She brought him to her beautiful swan bed and they lay down, undressing each other and laughing. I dropped the picture. I didn't understand why my father hadn't said anything to her. He had to have been watching her for a while; he had to know she had a lover.
I ran from the room as fast as my little legs could carry me and I ended up outside. I ran all the way to our private pond. I fell to the ground and began to cry. To really cry, not caring if anyone heard and not caring if it wasn't the manly thing to do. If my father saw me at this moment he would have gone into such a rage and punished me for being a sissy. I threw little rocks into the pond, trying hard to get them to skip, but always failing. I stared into the pond and for a second, I saw myself as a grown man, with the same look of failure and desperation in my eyes. Desperate for love but not willing to give it for fear of being betrayed. I didn't understand my eyes then. I only understood them after my mother abandoned me, about three weeks later.
She had a balcony in her room, which is where her lover would enter the house without anyone seeing him. I spied on them every day for the next couple of weeks after I first discovered the tiny peephole behind my father's portrait. I was fascinated by my mother's ability to mold men and make them do as she wished. She was so mesmerizing. I hoped one day to have a woman look at me the way my mother looked at her lover. I wondered if her lover felt lucky or special. That day they were discussing their plans. But I didn't fully understand until she was gone.
"Darling, I am so alone in this huge house! I can't bear it any longer. When are we going to escape? You keep promising and promising. When will it come true." She grabbed a hold of him so tightly I thought she might break him.
"Soon, very soon. I have found an elegant apartment for us right in the middle of the most respected and envied area in Richmond." He said all this in a hoarse whisper. His face was flushed a deep red. I didn't know what that meant, it frightened me, but now it only angered me. My mother's eyes brightened and she smiled widely. She clapped her hands gleefully, like a little girl. He smiled back at her and they began to kiss and soon they were making love on her bed again.
I backed away and left the room, my head down. I sat in my room and tried to distract myself from what was going on. After a while I went downstairs and made myself comfortable in our foyer. Servants came and went, and finally hours later, my mother came downstairs for dinner. My father arrived shortly after and soon we were all seated in the dining hall, one happy family. If they noticed my saddened behavior, neither said anything and they barely spoke anyway. My mother took dainty bites of her meal and my father devoured his. I barely touched mine, and not because I was concerned about my weight. I was too sick from knowing my mother had been cheating on my father and he knew! But did nothing.
But now, there seemed to be something in his eyes. I couldn't tell what it was. I had never seen it there before. But now I know. It was the pain of knowing the woman you loved soon would be gone. I felt that pain when I grew older and right when I did I remembered my father and his sad eyes. I would look in the mirror and see that in my eyes. But I would ignore it and they would only see rage and contempt, never sadness.
My father rose from the table and he left quickly. My mother looked up a little surprised but went right back to her meal, not that she was really eating. I rose and went after my father. He had gone to his trophy room. I heard him softly crying. I shook my head. Did he know she was going to leave? Why didn't he say anything then? Why didn't he promise so many things and this time make them come true? I suddenly became very angry and I wanted to shout to him all I thought he ought to do. But instead I ran away. I ran and ran, what seemed far away to a small boy. It was funny, the times I acted my age were only when I was crying and afraid. The other times, you would think I was an adult. My father had hired tutors and I was far ahead of anyone close to my age and even some high schoolers. I hated that too. I wanted a chance to be a little kid. To not have to worry about how much I could read and comprehend. I wanted a chance to sit down and watch cartoons and play with toys and run and have fun with other kids. But instead I never had that, I only watched it from afar and I never got to touch it.
The next morning my father left for work as usual and then sometime later that day, my mother left, she didn't even say good bye. I remember that day so clearly. Only one other day comes clearer to my mind than the day my mother left me, the saddest day of my life. It was a bright and sunny day, the weather not matching the sad events that would forever change me. I rose early and ran to see her. She was humming softly when I entered. She turned to me and smiled warmly.
"Good morning darling." Her sweet voice put happiness in my face.
"Hello mommy. Can we eat breakfast together today?" Usually my mother ate a late breakfast in her room, but she was up very early today.
"That would be just wonderful," she continued humming and then she brought her head abruptly to face me, a flood of tears in her shining blue eyes. She quickly hugged me tightly and stroked my back.
"Darling Malcolm, I do love you so, please don't forget that." She stepped back and I was terribly confused. How could I forget that? Why was she crying? She saw the confusion in my eyes and she laughed lightly.
"Don't worry Malcolm. Mother is just having an emotional morning." She turned to her balcony and then back to me, a worried look on her face. "But it is a beautiful day isn't it. Why don't we go for a walk before breakfast? Would you like that?" I nodded quickly and she took hold of my tiny hand and led me outside. The servants wore looks of surprise to see mother up and about so early. She simply smiled at them all and they went back to their work.
We left the mansion and welcomed the crisp morning breeze. We walked out into the woods and came upon a small cottage I had never seen before. She stared at it longingly. A yellow light poured out onto the porch. I saw a small smile form on my mother's lips.
"Mommy? Are you okay?" I asked her worriedly. She shook her head slowly, and gazed down at me, then back to the cottage. It was as if a battle was going on inside of her. Her eyes filled with confused thoughts.
"I'm fine Malcolm, just trying to understand something, that's all." She sighed heavily and we continued on our walk.
She told me all about life before she met my father. Suitors lined up down the street, she said with a giggle. And then her eyes turned dark and she told me something I will never forget.
"There was someone else before your father. He was perfect, wonderful, handsome, but one thing wasn't good enough for my father. The man I loved was poor, he worked hard for the little he had and my father was disgusted with him. He forbade me from ever seeing him and I was forced to marry your father. But Malcolm, you must promise that you will never tell your father any of this. He thinks that I chose him over all the others. But the truth is that my father chose him for me and forced me to live with a man I hated. I don't know how I survived all these years. Your father tries to buy my love and yes that makes me happier but not happy. He has never tried to show me any emotion or tenderness.
"But soon that will be different… It has to change, it must..." She trailed off and she suddenly stopped in the middle of the path. She knelt down and placed her hands on my shoulders. She looked deep into my eyes and searched for my understanding.
"No matter what happens in the near future, always remember that I love you. Promise me that you will remember that." I looked into her eyes and saw the deepest sadness I had ever seen in my mother's eyes. Tears escaped my eyes and I felt them fall onto my chest.
"Mommy, what are you talking about? I don't understand. You're scaring me!" She smiled through her tears and picked me up into her arms. She carried me the rest of the walk. All the while she sang to me. Her beautiful voice filling my ears and sending me off to a sound sleep, but when I awoke she would be gone and so would my heart.
[rest of the chapters and the epilogue are separate]
The Doll House
(my VC Andrews site)
