King's College (Sequel to Too Young and Blind)

Doll

Trigger Warning: Abuse

Alexander

As the days went by I started to feel more like a doll to these two men. They forced me to cover up the scars, bruises, and blemishes they had begun to give me and they forced me into nicer clothes. Most people would be maybe a little bit happy to have been given these things I guess, I mean I was allowed to bathe and shave which I absolutely took full advantage of, but I'm not stupid either. This is some suspicious fucking shit, why were they doing this? It didn't get them anything but they were doing it, what was the point?

There hasn't been another payment in about a week and I guess it's because they need to get the money or something. I can wait, I'm not in a position to make demands or complain about speed, but Frances Eleanor is the last child left. Pierre, Louisa Charlotte, Little Theo, and Susan have all been able to go home, I just want Frances Eleanor to be taken to safety.

She was beginning to sport small bumps and bruises, I knew exactly why but I can't exactly get up and beat the shit out of two men who have at least four guns and one knife between them, all I could d it keep their attention on me and not her. If all they saw was me, the son who was a disappointment and the man who stole John, then they wouldn't lay a hand on Frances Eleanor. She had to be safe, she's all I really have here.

I could tell Hercules was becoming thinner, his muscles deteriorating. Maria has become thinner than a stick, I could make an OK sign around her wrist but because we have lost six people we have been able to eat a bit more each day and that did help. The worst thing, in my opinion, is Frances Eleanor would ask for her daddy each day. Not me, John. I have no idea what to do for her anymore. I'm her father and I can't do anything.

With the remains of Hercules's shirt I've begun to take a little bit of the shit corner to the bathroom each day when I'm told I have to bathe, I dump that bit in the toilet there and that has made the pile go down. It's disgusting, I know, but every little bit helps. Maria and Hercules have perked up a little with a new plan while Angelica has begun to sulk, closing herself off and crying at random intervals. She's given up hope. Nate has too, he's been silent and stared off into random directions constantly.

Why was this becoming normal? To wake up every day knowing I was a captive, that I was kidnapped with my child, and that my boyfriend is out there fighting for me? Why is it now normal to pile feces onto a rag to take to a toilet to flush? Why is it becoming normal to address my father as sir and give him some resemblance of respect? Every time I forced myself to cave to my dad I found I missed Washington, my real father, more and more. At first, I was put off by him calling me son but now I craved it, I wanted him to pet my hair and say everything was going to be fine. I want him to laugh a hearty laugh before clapping my shoulders and saying I was one weird kid. I want him to smile softly and call me his child. I missed my dad and I wasn't prepared for it.

I rubbed my face and looked up when the door opened, "Son." I cringed when James spoke, "Time for a shower." He said. I just really didn't understand it, really, why were they treating me like this? I've never been treated fairly or kindly by Henry nor James. What was this? Why? Was I now like some toy? James put me on hold until he wanted me and then tried to treat me like the five-year-old son he abandoned? Uh no.

I had already done the deed with the rag and went to the bathroom where I dumped it before taking a quick shower and finally changing into what looked like a high school uniform. He really was trying, wasn't he? Yellow just isn't my color. I went to the bathroom myself before flushing it along with the extras, hey, if I can use a toilet then I'm going to.

Quickly I pulled the crappy ass brush they'd brought through my hair before tying it up as I usually did. When I was all done I headed out, where were they? Did they really just trust me to go on back to my prison cell? How fucking stupid are they?

I bolted to the phone, skipping over planks I knew made squeaking noises or weird thuds. I dialed John's number fervently while trying to listen for them coming down the hall, "Come on John..." I mumbled. There was a clicking noise and I rushed through, "John, hey, it's me, Alex." He gasped but I kept talking, "Just listen to me. Listen carefully." I actually felt too afraid to speak so I whispered and hissed, "I don't think they're gonna release me in the end." I told him honestly.

"What?!" John yelled and just hearing his voice sent butterflies throughout my entire body, fuck I love him, "What do you mean not release you? We have a deal! He had to! Plus we said we're paying extra!"

I shook my head, "No John they're like treating me as if I'm their son. It's ironically kind of gay. Just-look I know I said not to get the police involved but fuck man get the goddamn police involved. They've been hitting Frances Eleanor and-and Maria's so so thin. Hercules is frail and Nate and Angelica are just hopeless. They have been giving you guys the people they free, right? Theo, Pierre, Louisa Charlotte, Little Theo, and Susan?"

"Mhmm," John hummed, "Aaron's happy. I don't blame him...I-I miss you. I love you." I noticed he was beginning to cry and I sniffed heavily.

"What're you doing, son?" A voice growled and I slammed the phone down, how had I not heard him?! "Calling the faggot?" I looked up at Henry and tried to speak, how could I defend myself? It wouldn't matter, my side seemed to explode and I actually gasped, looking down, a knife sticking out of my side.

"J..." My knees gave out, I was feeling light, my head was floating, "John..." I imagined his face, my freckled boy's face and then everything seemed to spiral before suddenly, darkness. I hope John's okay...