Welcome To The Dollhouse ~Style fan fiction~ {Complete}

32

I quickly get changed into my clothes from earlier, but I would love to get into jeans and a fresh shirt instead. The odds of running into Doctor Marsh again are high, so I'm not taking any chances.
I grab my phone from under the rug and open it to find another message from mom.

Contact: I'm calling the cops. They should be able to trace your text and find your location.

For some reason, this makes me panic.
I want nothing more than to go home to my mom and Ike, to see Scott and David again, but I also want to stay here with Stan.

I feel wanted here, possibly needed, but at home the only person who needed me was my mom when we ran out of milk and she was too lazy to go out and get some.
It feels nice here. My room is huge, I'm safe, the food is great and I'm never alone.

Before I can think of how to respond to the text, someone knocks on the bathroom door.

I shove the phone into my back pocket and I open the door.
Butters is stood there, his face covered in makeup which makes him look like a hot girl. Bebe did a good job.

"Oh, hi," he smiles, "I was just coming to see myself. Bebe broke her mirror."

"You look cute." I smile back, stepping out of his way to let him into the bathroom.

"Thanks, Kyle. That's really nice of you to say."

I step out of the bathroom, take the phone out of my pocket and hide it in my pillow case. It's not the safest hiding place, but it's the only hiding place I can get.
I made sure to check my back was to the camera, so hopefully I won't get caught.

Butters gasps in delight and I smile to myself.
The poor kid has never been accepted for what he likes doing and now he's able to express himself without being shamed. It's adorable.

The bedroom door opens and Stan walks in. Although I saw him less than ten minutes ago, he looks panicked and flustered.

"Kyle, we need to go," He grabs my arm and pulls me away from my bed, "the plan is falling apart. We have to go."

Falling apart? Already??

"What do you mean, falling apart?" I pull my arm from his tight grip and instead run beside him. He seems to be taking me back to the wake-up room, dark room, whatever you want to call it, "Stan, speak to me!"

"We have to go. It's too dangerous here." Is all Stan says.

When we reach the room, Bebe is stood outside it, looking at her feet. Her usually immaculate and beautiful hair is all tangled and covering her face. It looks as if she's been pulling it viciously.
She's stood in a small pool of blood, but doesn't seem to notice.

It takes me a second to realise that the blood is coming from her hands and when I look closely I see she's holding a large shard of glass so tightly in her hand that it's cutting into her skin.

Before he can get any closer, I grab Stan's sleeve and pull him backwards. He hasn't noticed the blood or the glass in her hands.

"Stan, her hand." I whisper, pointing.

His eyes widen when he sees the bloody glass and he bites his lip, unsure of how to deal with the situation. I'm the same, how are you meant to deal with this situation?

Bebe lifts her head.
Her eyes are red and puffy, her cheeks are stained with runny mascara and her red lipstick has been smudged across her cheeks so she's obviously been crying which would break my heart if she wasn't an utter bitch.

"Don't go," she says, her voice croaky and quiet, "please, I love you."

"Bebe, this isn't up for discussion," Stan says, walking over to her slowly so he can keep her calm, "I'm not leaving you, I'm going out and then I'm coming back, I promise."

She shakes her head.

"You won't come back. You're going to leave me forever!" She suddenly changes from calm to angry, "if I can't have you, nobody can!"

She suddenly lunges at Stan with the shard of glass, aiming for his chest, but before she can get close enough to stab him I tackle her to the ground.

The glass falls out of her hands, out of her reach, but it's only now I realise that it isn't glass, but a shard of mirror.
She must have smashed it earlier when she was doing Butters' makeup. How did she know we were leaving though?

I reach out and grab both of her wrists, but her long fingernail scratches my face and I feel blood quickly dripping from the wound.

"Stan, help me!" I shout over my shoulder, wondering why he's not doing anything.

I don't hear any movement or a reply from Stan, but I just assume that's because Bebe is screaming at the top of her lungs.
I look over my shoulder.

Stan is gone.