Pandemonium.
When she woke up, she was outside the palace – or what passed for it in her personal hell, as she realized this was. Warily, she walked towards the house, but stopped at the kitchen window. Inside she saw Sam and her father, yelling at each other, but she couldn't hear what about. She never remembered seeing her father act like that, then remembered that it wasn't really him. Then he slapped Sam.
"Ohmygod!" Brooke thought, "What if Sam's here too? – No – Why would she be? She'd never done anything to deserve this... not like me."
"Lovely domestic scene, isn't it?" Brooke turned around to see her mother, or something that looked like her mother, smiling at her.
"Yes, practically a Norman Rockwell picture. I wonder why I left – Oh yes! I remember, that whiny, pudgy little slug that kept crawling after me, calling me 'Mom.'"
"Shut up!" Brooke hissed. "You're not my mother."
"Oh thank goodness," Kelly replied, "Imagine the disappointment I'd have to deal with, having a bleached, bloated maggot like you crawl out of my belly – I might have to leave town, change my name, and deny any connection to you – Oh wait! I did!" she giggled.
Even if it wasn't her mother, the words hurt Brooke. Once again, tears rolled down her cheeks. "Aw" the beast sneered, grabbing Brooke by the arm. "Let's go visit, shall we?"
Inside, Mike – or what looked like him – Brooke had to remind herself, was screaming at Sam. "You couldn't just stay out of it, could you! Now everyone knows!"
"Knows what dear?" Kelly asked, still holding Brooke by the hair.
"Dammit! Why'd you have to bring that back here?" Mike asked. "Can't we just dump her somewhere? An orphanage? The pound?"
"Oh, I'm sure we'll find a convenient rug to sweep the dirt under." Kelly said, smiling. "So what's up with this one?" she asked, gesturing towards Sam.
"Oh that," Mike sneered. "It's bad enough we have this... thing for a daughter," he pointed at Brooke, "but this bitch has to write her little exposés and tell the whole world that it's all a lie."
"What's a lie, dear?" Kelly asked, in a sickly sweet tone. She released Brooke, shoving her into the corner.
"Little miss perfect here," Mike pointed a Brooke again. "Our perfect daughter – cheerleader, thin, smart, popular, but really just a worthless slug in a pretty disguise."
Brooke was sobbing again now. Even if these weren't her parents, everything they said was so close to her own doubts that it was killing her to hear it.
"I'm sorry to wreak you're pretty little world, Mr. McQueen," Sam – if it was Sam, Brooke wondered – said, "but people were looking up to her. Someone had to show them what a fake she is."
"No, not Sam," Brooke realized.
"Shut up!" Mike shouted. Brooke remembered what happened earlier in the Novak, how that thing had told her to keep her 'mask' on – to be what everyone expected. Now, she realized, that without it, she was... nothing.