Chapter 3: Role of the Perfect Family
Ever since I was little… I wanted the Perfect Family.
The type of family where everyone could talk to each other; without having to shove everything they felt down each other's throats.
As I mentioned before… my mother and father weren't the best parents when it comes to quality family time. I wasn't sure if it was because of my father's endless business schedules at his music store or the fact that my own mother felt like her husband was never there for her anymore. Whichever was the cause of their fall out, they never came to the realization that their torn up relationship was the reason why I spent my entire childhood in the attic.
My dolls were the only objects that knew how I felt. To me the dollhouse represented my home life and my dolls created my vision and desire to be the perfect family, but ultimately it was just an un-idealistic hope. Each one of them shared a part of my small heart and eventually I had given each of them a name. The fifties style housewife was named after my first caretaker Elena, the businessman was named after my uncle Erin and the teenage boy was named after my favorite fictional character Dickon. The memories of playing with them are still freshly engraved into the back of my mind. But the situation I went through is one that I would want and wish to erase. The reason why I state this is because my seven year old brown eyes witnessed the secrets hidden behind the glistening walls of my seemingly perfect dollhouse. The dollhouse was once a playful game of innocence and over the weeks turned into evilness.
"Hey girl, open the walls, play with your dolls. We'll be a perfect family". - Melanie Martinez
October 13, 1998 was when it all started. My daily routine of eating breakfast at the kitchen table was like any other normal day. But once my bare feet walked down the stairs of the attic room it was a different story. My mind knew the positions places for each of my dolls. And so when eyes saw that they weren't in their original positions, I had a gut feeling that my life was going to change.
The housewife was two inches away from the double sink and her face was full of tears. Meanwhile the businessman was seated down in the farthest chair in the kitchen table. My brown eyes analyzed the whole scene in front of me before running up the stairs in fear. The reason why I reacted this way was because nobody has ever gone down here except for when Steph and James come over. And so to see my dolls in these new positions, I knew that something wasn't right.
I recall my small feet bolting up the stairs as my petite body tried to escape the room. My bare feet didn't stop its movement until I found one of my parents. My mother wasn't there on that day and so I went up towards my father's bedroom. I explained to him that I believed that my dolls have come to life. My father wasn't sure how to respond back towards my story. I knew because I remember seeing the shocked look on his tiresome face before hearing him state in a calm tone that I was imagining things and that it wasn't possible. My gut didn't agree with his statement and for some odd reason I felt like I needed him to go downstairs to check it out. And so I did the one thing that I knew could get his attention.
"Daddy please come down and see for yourself. I swear I am not making this up!" I pleaded in fearsome tone.
My father looked back up from his seating position on his arm chair before stating back in a doubtful tone. "Ally! Pumpkin… you probably didn't put them away last night."
My head nods in disagreement as I respond back. "NO! Daddy I always put them away."
My father let out a sigh from my persistence before seeing his right hand go up towards the bridge of his nose in frustration. My normal heartbeat started to speed up as my body started to stiffened from not seeing him move. At that moment I thought he wouldn't go downstairs and check, but I wrong. My eyes suddenly saw my father placing his hands upon the green color arms of his chair. Each one of the fingers from his hands got a good grasp of material before seeing him pull up his heavy body from his seating position.
"Alright Pumpkin! Let us go and see your dolls." He stated with determination behind his tired some tone.
A small smile of happiness appeared upon my face as my left hand went up for my father to grab onto. Once our hands were fully laced together, my body pulled us towards the attic's direction. My heart started to speed up more as our bodies reached the entrance of the attic. At this time I recall stopping for a second as my eyes looked straight into the attic in terror. My father seemed to have noticed how I felt and decided to lightly squeeze our now connected hands to calm me. I looked over at him with gratitude as we continued on our request.
My mind went into scattered mode when we reached the bottom of the staircase. A gasp of shock came through my thin lips as my eyes took in the sight in front of us. Right there inside the dollhouse were my doll but they were back in their original positions.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw my father looking at me with concern upon his face as I tried to comprehend what was going on.
"Daddy! They weren't like that earlier!" I stated in a tone of complete disbelief.
My father let out a sigh from my statement before hearing him stated in a defeated tone. "I truly thought Miss. De La Rosa and Mr. Moon were messing with my head when they mentioned your crazy tale about the dollhouse. But I guess they were right."
My lips started to tremble from his harsh comment towards me as my heart broke from his lack of trust. I remember my body turning back at my father before feeling his right hand slowly slipping away from my grasp.
"Daddy! Please believe me." I stated in a strained tone.
My father hesitated on my final statement as silence filled in the room. A painful eye expression appeared inside his eyes and that was when I realized I was alone in this. No one was ever going to believe me. Slowly I recall moving away from my father and the dollhouse before running up the stairs and into my bedroom.
My father always believed in anything I told but that night devastated me. It was like he lost all faith in me and that hurt.
"No one ever listens, this wallpaper glistens. One day they'll see what goes down in the kitchen". - Melanie Martinez
Over the passing weeks my parents were having casual conversations about my reaction. They tried to talk quietly with one another. But my sensitive ears could overhear everything single word they said towards each other from the crack underneath my bedroom door frame.
"Wait she thought the dolls in the dollhouse were alive." My mother stated in disbelief from the kitchen room area.
My father's footsteps pace around a bit before hearing him respond back. "That isn't all of it Penny."
My mother lets out a frustrated sigh meanwhile hearing my father continue on.
"Austin and Trish have told their parents that Ally has recently seen the Melanie Doll reflecting her feelings through face expressions."
My mother questioned back in a worried some tone, "Lester…do you think it has to do with our lack of attention we give Ally?"
"I don't know Penny! Ally hasn't acted like this until she got that stupid doll." My father stated in anguish tone.
My mother stopped him from saying anything more. It was a bit hard to hear her response but I heard her state in a deadpan tone. "Lester! You are now giving me crazy talk! A doll can't be the blame for our daughter's strange behavior. The Melanie Doll is just a doll."
My father lets out a sigh before stating back. "You are right. This is probably just a phrase."
At this moment I blocked out the rest of their conversation meanwhile my eyes looked straight up to popcorn celling. Tears splattered down my face as I silently sobbed myself to sleep.