***Chapter 37***

**Aria's POV**

One-hundred percent, the dolls had to go. Nap forgotten, I had immediately grabbed a box when I stepped back into the house, knowing that those lifeless eyes would be following me from the second I set foot in my room. I closed my eyes, fearing that those were the eyes which stared out of my own face when I looked at people. If just being around me made people as uncomfortable as being around those dolls. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the thoughts that were plaguing me.

I hadn't realized just how many dolls there were in my room, some were left over from my childhood, those were maintained to perfection though I had scarcely paid attention to them in the past years. Their curls were still intact, dresses in order, even if they were the slightest bit dusty. I thought it had added something to the photos, that thin layer of dust settled on their porcelain skin, muting the reflected light and lightening their hair. Others were entirely intended for my photography that I had picked up over the last couple of weeks. I picked up a brunette doll, hair chopped shorter than my own, only barely covering the bottom of the dolls ears, there was a piece of string I had tied around the dolls wrists. My fingers brushed against the string, it wasn't a belt but it had created the same effect. For half a moment, I was envious of the doll. No matter what tied them together, those wrists would never bruise, nor bear the marks afterward. The edges of the string didn't bite into the porcelain and leave cuts the way it had on mine. I dropped the doll into the box, rubbing at my wrists making sure that my hands were free. The bruises had healed, but there were still small cuts on the edges of where the bruises had been, from where the belt had cut into my skin when I struggled.

I took a deep steadying breath, trying to push back the fear that was eating away at me, making me shake. Sinking down onto the bed, I raked my hands through my hair, though my hands slipped free quickly. Another painful reminder of my time spent down there. I had thought it wasn't bothering me as much, the short cut that I had received as a punishment. But for a moment, it reminded me of that instant when I woke in bed and read the note before reaching for my hair and feeling the loose strands that had been left around me. It had terrified me that he had taken scissors to my hair in my sleep, and I never woke up. Not only that he had cut my hair short as a punishment, but that he had showed again that he could move me around in my sleep. That sharp shears had been next to my throat and I hadn't even known it. Wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

After a few moments, I managed to get my breathing steady again and began moving the dolls so that I could load them all up into the box. There was the sound of creaking outside my door and I froze, forgetting for a moment where I was. My eyes went to the window, seeing the daylight streaming in. I wasn't underground anymore. I wasn't in that place. I was safe. It was probably just Mike. He had a free period today, I guess. Though it was possible that my parents just weren't being super strict on his attendance. It was probably pretty terrible for Mike to be at school, everyone asking him what was going on. I had seen the toll Mona's death had taken on him, both at school and at home. He kept getting pulled into all the drama that made up my life. Everything that had happened to Mike was beyond unfair, he deserved a chance to get out of this town. Same as the rest of us.

I figured if he wanted to talk to me about it, then he would come in. So I just focused on gathering all the dolls up. The photographs had helped somewhat for dealing with what had happened, putting it on someone else. It helped to keep it separate from me. Helped to reinforce the wall between my time down there and my real life. Made it feel less personal. They weren't hurt by what happened, they could handle it. Even with cracked faces and stiff joints, they were still beautiful. Still whole. Some of them would even be considered collectors pieces, despite what had happened they would still be valuable to some people. They didn't feel anything and I guess that is how they survived. I wished for a moment that I could be like that, whole and unfeeling. Able to push aside everything that had taken place over the last couple of years. Let the bruises heal and be able to pretend that I was still the same as I was before.

"You getting rid of all of these?" Mike asked, coming into my room and picking up one of the dolls that was still over by my desk.

"Picasso had a blue phase. I had a doll phase. It's time to move on." I told him, glancing only briefly over my shoulder to look at him before turning back to what I was doing.

"I take it you didn't get into that art show?"

"I don't know yet. But either way it's time to move on." I argued, picking up an armload of dolls and heading for the box. "Besides, you're the one who said all my photos were creepy."

"I meant creepy in a good way." I wasn't entirely sure how he had meant creepy in a good way, or to be a compliment. But then again he was a teenage boy.

"Yeah, well, they're officially starting to creep me out."

We fell into silence for a few moments, while I deposited the dolls into the box. Mike was fidgeting while he watched me working. I could tell that there was something on his mind, but he wasn't talking.

"Hey, what's going on with you? You've been pacing outside my door for like ten minutes."

He seemed to debate whether or not he should answer me or not. "Did you tell Mona not to talk to me?"

"What? Did she tell you that?" I couldn't believe that Mona was playing this. I mean, I knew that we weren't totally on the same side in this, but if she was trying to get on my good side and convince us that she wanted to help us and not Charles, then getting Mike to turn on me was not the right way to do that. Mona was just hitting all my buttons today, refusing to help us with Leslie and now trying to turn my brother against me. The anger that had boiled in me this morning rising up again. For a moment, I considered driving back over to her place and smacking her. I didn't normally instinctively reach for violence, but the thought of smacking the innocent expression from her face was really appealing.

"That would involve her actually speaking to me."

Wait… What? My angry thoughts derailed.

"Mike, what do you mean?"

"I mean, she hasn't spoken to me since you guys got back." He admitted, unwilling to look at me anymore.

I was shocked though, that he hadn't said something about this sooner. I know that I had never supported their relationship, but above all else I wanted Mike to be happy. It was painful that he hadn't felt like he could talk to me. Especially when he had been going out of his way to make me feel comfortable. I felt like the worst sister in the world. How selfish was I that I hadn't even noticed that Mike was struggling like this. I was just afraid that she would hurt him. In the end, I had been right before, but I hadn't wanted to say 'I told you so'. The memories of what had happened in the bunker threatened to come back to the surface of my thoughts, but I shoved them down. I had been down there for a month and a half. Mona had been there for months on end, trapped in that place with no hope for escape, without even having the other girls down there with her. No support system to hold her through the punishments, or reassure her that someone would know soon enough what happened to her. Or even know that she was still alive and looking for her. Without even the safety of being herself, forced to play pretend or be punished. I remembered her cries for help and the desperation pouring off her when we found her in that pit. Her voice had shaken with terror as she begged the empty space above her for someone to save her. She deserved happiness too, and if Mike would be happiest with her then I hoped that they would find their happiness together. And maybe if she did, Mona would be on our side in all of this, for real.

"I have an idea." I said, drawing his attention back to me. "Mona loves dolls. You should take these over to her, her mom will undoubtedly let you wait for her."

"Are you sure? I mean, that you won't want these back again." He sounded hopeful, maybe because it was giving him an excuse to talk to her when she had been avoiding him. Or maybe just because I was supporting him and was actually on his side in all this.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I picked up the last of the dolls and placed them in the box. "There. Do you want a ride over to Mona's? I can drop you if you want."

"Don't you have a doctor's appointment today or something?"

"Not for a few more hours." I reassured. "I have plenty of time to take you over there."

"A ride would be great." Mike sheepishly admitted.

"Awesome, I'll grab my purse and we'll go."

***End Chapter***