Chapter 92*

Aria's POV*

I had given Mike the keys to my car, letting him take Mona home finally. And leaving me alone in the house. I wanted to throw something. To scream. Maybe break something. It usually made me feel better, at least in the moment. But I swallowed it down. Instead, I headed for the kitchen, grabbing the kettle off the stove, getting it filled, and heating for some tea. Then with a frustrated sigh, while I waited for the water to heat, I grabbed out my phone.

Aria: Has anyone heard anything about prom?

I sent it to the group chat. And waited. It was vague enough not to worry anyone if this really was just Mona messing with me.

If we really had been banned from prom, I doubted the other girls' parents were hiding it from them. Then again, I didn't know why my parents would be hiding it from me, either. Which cast doubt on this whole thing, the girls would have said something if they knew. I flicked through my call log, more out of tension than actual curiosity. There were admittedly a number of calls from my mom, all missed. And I tapped away quickly, feeling the spark of guilt and sadness that I was avoiding her. I'd hear anything if the girls responded, no sense fixating on my phone, so I shoved it in my pocket. I'd focus on something else to take my mind off the burning question of why I was just hearing about his now. My hands seemed to jump around the kitchen, sorting through the mail that was on the counter, clearing away the small collection of dishes and bags from the counter that had been left out through the day. Instead of the destruction that I typically caused, turning that same energy into cleaning the kitchen up helped to soothe some of the stress, even if it did leave me a little shaky as I was finishing. I should probably have eaten something for dinner tonight, I realized. Not that I was feeling particularly hungry, in fact the churning of my stomach from the stress of the night made me reconsider eating at all. Suddenly the kettle whistled and I had a tea bag in the mug when I heard the front door close.

"Mike, is that you?" I called out, clearing up the wrapper before heading out of the kitchen.

He had to have just dropped Mona off if he was back already, I had expected him to linger outside her house. The same way that Jason and I tended to linger whenever we said goodbye. I shoved down the idea of Mona kissing my brother, that was too much to think about.

"No, just me." My dad responded, his voice ringing out loudly despite the fact that he was facing away from me.

He was shucking his suit jacket, which I was surprised that he had bothered to wear one, not this late at night. He had a habit to swap to just a button down, or maybe a sweater in the evenings. I guess it was probably a fairly important meeting, which might have also had something to do with the fact that it was getting closer to midnight. I noted the exhaustion that seemed to hang heavy on him. And for a moment, I considered letting things rest. But I could feel the phone weighing down my pocket, and knew if I didn't ask now I could give up sleeping tonight. I'd be too busy trying to figure out exactly what Mona was up to with all of this.

"Am I banned from prom?" I couldn't contain the way that I snapped, I had meant to start off a little softer at least. But my fraying nerves shot that plan down.

He looked up abruptly, the briefcase at his side immediately forgotten. And I waited for his response. His face showed surprise for a moment, and I wondered if he actually hadn't known. If this was, in fact, some weird trick from Mona. And then, it changed, his face softened, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening as his face slackened. The resignation on his face was plain as day.

"The school board communicated with us that it would be better for you and your friends not to attend prom." he admitted after a moment.

My heart sunk with the confirmation, but almost immediately the anger bubbled back up, overriding the hurt and fueling me.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" I snapped at him, crossing my arms.

He looked at me with a tired sigh, glancing pointedly at his briefcase and jacket. Like he was upset that I wasn't letting him settle in before starting this. That I was somehow being unreasonable to ask him about this when he had just gotten home. But when he looked at me, he seemed to just accept it, his shoulders slumping.

"Do we have to talk about this right now?" he questioned, moving towards the couch already.

"Was the plan to just let me get all dressed up before letting me know? I already have my dress. Jason and I have a reservation for dinner." my voice was climbing in pitch, the anger and hurt mounting. "We have a limo rented to take us all together."

He winced at the sharp tone, and I swallowed down the tears that were threatening to bubble up. If I didn't calm down he'd shut down the whole conversation. Tonight, I just wanted answers, no more run around.

"Your mother and I were going to tell you." he started, and I saw red. That apparently he couldn't just tell me things himself, that it was dependent on my mom breaking the bad news to me. So he could just dodge the responsibility.

"What? Too afraid to tell me yourself? I had to find out from Mona." I let that drop in the air, and saw him wince in response.

"We thought it would be better if we all talked it out. But you've been avoiding your mom's calls."

My mouth pursed. There was no way that was going to cut it. They weren't going to blame me for this. Mom had walked out on me the other night, her calling afterwards didn't change that. And while I had told her to go, to save herself. It didn't change how much being dropped like that had hurt.

"Last I checked, I have two parents. One of whom I live with, who is perfectly capable of communicating with me. Or has that suddenly changed?"

His face flushed red at my accusation, and I saw his jaw tighten. His lips pursed at the sides as he spoke. "Do you really want to talk about communication?"

He threw it back, as though he could turn the tables around on me, but I wasn't going to let this go. How did my parents not understand that when I wasn't sharing something it was to keep them safe? I needed to know what was happening, because if I didn't Charles would. Sure, there might be some imbalance here, but there was a reason for it. One that they both apparently weren't able to understand.

"I don't think it's unreasonable of me to expect to be told about what's going on in my life. Like where I'm not allowed to go."

"Because it affects you?" he questioned, he was speaking through clenched teeth.

"Yes."

"Then how is it fair that you don't tell me what's going on in your life?" he turned it back on me. "That I don't hear about the police investigation at your art display? That whoever took you is still playing games. Even that the Harvey girl was kidnapped."

I squared my shoulders, readying for a stand-off. Tonight felt too familiar, similar to coming home from the gallery and fighting with my mom. But tonight at least I wasn't as emotionally wiped as the other night. Despite the fact that my day had consisted almost exclusively of talking through all the shit various As had put my friends and me through over the last few years, including my literal torture.

"I didn't want to talk about it. Besides, I figured Mom would tell you about it anyway." I shrugged off his annoyance. If he wanted to bring her in and require her as an intermediary, then why couldn't I? It's not like he hadn't heard about it, even if it wasn't directly from me.

"That's not the point, Aria. Communication goes both ways. Why do you expect me to tell you things, when you don't do the same?" his teeth were clenched, and he seemed to be trying to contain the anger he was feeling.

"Because you're my dad. When the school tells you I'm not allowed to go to an event, then you're supposed to tell me." I wanted to scream in frustration.

"Aria, I have tried with you for the last several weeks. I just want you to open up. Talk about what happened."

I felt the tears springing into my eyes, too quickly to try and hold them back, my vision blurred. My voice felt thick as I spoke. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Aria, you need to talk about what happened. I understand if maybe you don't want to talk to me, but you need to talk with someone." the anger had dropped from his voice and he sounded like he was trying to bargain with me.

Guilt at the pain in his voice rose up in my chest, and threatened for a moment to drown me. It was a familiar sensation, the aching pain that always felt like a gaping hole with ragged edges made it hard to breathe. It was too familiar, reminding me of the fact that when I had been forced to choose, I had consistently told Charles that I loved my mom more than him. I could hear the way that my breathing turned rough, echoing in my head so loud it was hard to hear that my dad was continuing.

"I was hoping maybe you'd talk to your mom. But now you've been avoiding her too. And I'm just worried about you."

"I can't do this." I managed to get out, feeling too overwhelmed to be here anymore.

I couldn't get the idea out of my head that he was trying to pressure me into telling him what had happened. The manipulation too forceful to not feel like it was smothering me. And it made me want to sob. The fact that we were opening up more to the cops didn't change the fact that I didn't want my parents to know what I had gone through. That I couldn't tell them everything that had happened down there. Lieutenant Tanner and Agent Reid were different, nothing that I told them would hurt them. It was their job to listen and try to catch the person who had hurt me. Just like it was still somehow my job to protect my parents and my family, even if my mom tried to argue that point.

"Aria." my dad tried again, but I couldn't stay.

If I stayed then this conversation wouldn't end. We'd fight, worse than we already were. And I wouldn't be talking to either of my parents by the end of the night. I'd be alone again, desperately clutching my secrets to my chest like a fire and burning myself to save them from it. My purse was still here, I had never actually made it upstairs tonight, and the length of the day was wearing on me. I couldn't do this tonight. I needed to crash. Sit down and have my tea, and collapse into bed. Wake up tomorrow feeling like the world wasn't falling apart around me anymore. So I grabbed my jacket, pulling it snugly back around my shaking body and headed for the front door. "I'm going to Spencer's."

"Aria, you can't just walk out every time that you don't want to have a conversation." he snapped, anger blooming back up. "Damn it, stop it."

The door opened slightly in my hand, the cool whiff of fresh air brushing across my face. The door slammed shut, the handle ripping out of my hand as an arm came over my shoulder to lock me back in. The lights blinked out, darkness taking over me as I faced the door. I was trapped, with an oppressive heat surging from behind me. My body shuddered at the contrast, the confined space making it harder and harder to breathe. I slammed my eyes shut bracing for the impact, waiting for the hard impact of the wood to shove into my face. Trap my limbs where I was. The moment stretched on, anticipation at the oncoming blow swelling the seconds.

I had to get out. My hands were miraculously free, the weight that normally pressed me down, stifled my ability to breathe, was far enough away that I could move. Hot breath brushed against the bare skin at the nape of my neck. And I felt all the anger that had been shoved down bubbling back up. He would take me again. Wrap his hands around my throat, shove my face into the wall. But for now, I could move. The cool metal of the door handle was against my hand, calm against the hot pain that was throbbing from the way it had slammed away from me. The potential to escape was closer than it had ever been.

I threw my elbow back, trying to get a little space between us. Desperate to get away. I could make it down the hallway, hide with Spencer, her room was close enough. If I had to try door after door, I would do it. There was a grunting noise as my elbow connected hard into the soft stomach of the monster behind me. And the overwhelming presence that had been looming over me withdrew. I didn't dare to open my eyes as I grabbed the door handle again, yanking the door open and racing through.

The cold impacted with my skin in a shocking sensation. And I couldn't help opening my eyes. It was bright out here, brighter than I had anticipated from the dim hallway between our rooms. And the air was too fresh, missing the stale quality that I had become so used to. I blinked. My vision clearing as the tears slid down my face, hot lines filled back in by the cold air.

"Aria!" I heard a grunt from behind me, and the panic that had driven me slipped back.

My body tightened, panic warring with confusion. My name wasn't right. He never said my name. It took so long to turn around, the hammering of my heart thundering through my head. But I turned back around to see my dad hunched over, hand clasping his stomach, his gaze caught on me.

The world came rushing back around me. I wasn't in the dollhouse. I wasn't trapped inside.

I wasn't with Charles.

The fight that had slipped away, been replaced by the dark and pain of the dollhouse, was back. And I realized that I had hit my dad. The throbbing pain in my elbow standing out as a harsh reminder of my actions. My head was shaking, like I could deny what I had just done. I had hit him. My dad. Someone who only cared about me. Even if we were arguing, I couldn't believe that I had confused him for Charles. That I had been so stupid as to think that Charles would ever let me have free use of my hands. Let me hit him.

I felt frozen in the moment, watching the pain on my dad's face. The hurt that I had attacked him. Guilt choked me, and I couldn't help shaking my head. The need to run was greater than ever, I had to get out of here. Couldn't stay knowing what I had done. I stumbled back on the porch, and tripped over the steps. Memories of another fall, another hit, another person I hurt came back. And the horror that I knew I was capable of murder returned, paired with the fear that I could lash out at my family. This wasn't safe. Not just for me. But for him.

The urge to vomit surged up my throat, with an urgency I didn't expect. I clenched my teeth hard, hand shooting up to cover my mouth. My name was being called behind me. I ignored it. Stumbling down the driveway, only to realize that my car wasn't here.

Frustration hammered down on me, and if I wasn't terrified that I would puke, I would scream.

"Miss Montgomery, are you alright?" a strange voice intruded.

I shook my head, backing away from the stranger approaching me. I had to get away. Needed to escape. Everything was closing in on me. I was too hot, the shudders shaking my body left me too out of control. I stumbled over a rock in the yard, hissing from beneath my clenched teeth at the impact.

Bright lights flashed around me, and I flinched back. The nausea dropping away in shock. It was freezing cold against my hot skin. The rigid feeling of icy metal beneath my bare skin. I shook my head, trying to blink my way back to reality. It was all mixing though. The pain that tore through my body. The fear and desperation.

"No, no, no." I heard a female voice repeating, and distantly realized that it was me. I had to get out of here. Couldn't be here anymore. Needed someplace, someone safe.

"Miss Montgomery, you can't just wander off. We need to keep an eye on you."

"No, please no." I half-shrieked, more volume leaving my mouth than I remembered making for so long. And I slapped my hand back over my mouth as though I could take it back.

I waited for the flash of pain. As I backed away from where I thought it would come from. Everything was too bright to see, the world too vivid and intense. And I just wanted to curl back under my blankets. Hide away from the world. From the lights. From the cameras that watched my every movement. That controlled me.

I could be good. I would be good. Just please don't let it hurt again. Don't hurt me.

The ground rose up to meet me, the impact softer on my knees and hands than I expected. Bile lurched from my mouth as I coughed and sputtered, unable to keep it down anymore.

Great wracking sobs filled the air, mixing with the choking sounds as I retched. I was exhausted. Couldn't handle this. Hands closed around my throat, squeezing tight as my vision blurred. The lights fading despite the intensity of the flashes. Before everything went dark.

End Chapter*

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