[center][right][sub][color=lightgray]FT: [color=#3b776d]Lorelei Mercer[/color]
Small FT: Patricia Mercer & Charles Dowell
Introducing: a woman named [color=9f2a57]Samantha[/color][/color][/sub]

[color=ed1c24][i]TW — child & sexual abuse[/i][/color]
[sup][color=gray]*Note: Lala turned 18 this year so this hints at years of abuse.[/color][/sup][/right]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/KzamLZD.png[/img]
[b][color=black]____________________________________________________________________[/color][/b]

[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230401/0530008b7729ab4756d420e8c1ce429f.png[/img]
[b][color=black]____________________________________________________________________[/color][/b]
[/center]
[color=lightgray][indent][indent]Family.  They are the people that are supposed to keep you out of harm’s way. A safe haven. The place that you want to run back to at any time of the day. Family was like warm cookies and a glass of milk, sitting by a fireplace and reading a story. A story with universal lessons that make you think of what life is supposed to be. 

One story Lorelei Mercer had in mind was [i]The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse[/i]. A boy who is lonesome goes on a journey finding friends. Their friendship buds as they explore the world around them. What does life actually mean? Lala is reminded of how fragile she, and other humans are, and how the world is such a tough place but could be beautiful. It should be beautiful. She wished it was beautiful. 

Lorelei was a meek girl who lived in Eastbrook, in a plain white house, unremarkable where cars pass by without a second glance. Her parents didn’t own anything fancy. The garden was typical for the average middle class family. Some shrubs, her mom’s peonies, and a couple of large pots of begonias. There was no tell-tale sign that this place was filled with heartache. Damaging and everlasting. 

Though why would anyone else care? The Mercers took care of the Dollhouse they lived in, their own personal prison, carefully designed to hide years of pain. A family that kept their scars hidden. Generational trauma masked with a smile. Patricia Mercer, for example, had her home office, a speech therapist she claimed to be, which meant she was always around. When she wasn’t with clients, which was most of the time, she was drinking and when she drank too much, she took her misery out on her living child, blaming her daughter for her son’s death, instead of the boy who held the gun. 

Her step father, Charles Dowell, was no better. Actually, he was worse. When he was away, Lala was relieved. He had to travel often as a corporate lawyer. Committing adultery no doubt on his business trips. When he was home and his needs weren’t met by his wife, conveniently he had a daughter who he told to always keep the door cracked open. She would do as he says and say nothing about it. 

Not like Pierce was around to be the wall between her and her parents. He was in a better place and she envied him for that. Sometimes she wished she went to that special place instead of him but she knew he’d hate hearing that come from her lips. He knew if one of them would escape this hell, this cage, it would be her. She was the talented one. He was not. He could sing and he was charming, but his voice was generic at best. When Lorelei belts out, from her tiny little body, he could swear doves would cry. Her voice was enchanting and full of raw emotion. She was a little songbird, so talented and lovely, and if anyone had a future out of highschool it was her. Not him. Pierce knew once he graduated he would’ve likely skipped town, ditching his dreams to pursue theater. To chase love instead and if Lala wanted to, he would’ve taken her with him but he knew that life wouldn’t suit her. She needed something stable. She needed a home. He needed freedom. 

As gruesome as his death was, Charlie Decker answered his prayers. Neither Pierce or Lorelei knew how to speak up against the dark that engulfed them but what they did know was one of them was meant to fly and Pierce always said it would be her, she just had to believe she could. She was a porcelain doll with cracks. Hopeless and broken. Her innocence, stolen. But she promised herself yesterday when she gave her brother her letter and when she sang on the radio with Kylee and Mei, she wasn’t going to be scared anymore. Or well, she wasn’t going to let her fear cripple her on finding a door without a lock that leads to someone’s lap that she could rest her head on. 

She was afraid. Terrified. She was always afraid. Lala was tired of it and wanted to go from Pierce’s Duckling to her own Swan. But how does one go against monsters when all their life they’ve touched you in ways that would take years to bury. Was she a princess waiting for her prince to save her? Was she always going to be the girl that waited, like Sleeping Beauty, for someone to rescue her? Or was she going to save herself? Break out of her cage and fly with her tethered wings in search of a home outside of Pierce’s life. 

As much as she loved the mayor’s daughter, she loved her so much, Kylee was only someone in her story because of her brother. She had no one. Not really. Girls casually talked to her but they thought she was weird and practically mute. Boys would try to flirt with her but when she didn’t show clear signs of being interested, they got bored and moved to someone easier. Lala was a sad girl but she was tired of being a sad girl. She wanted to know the feeling of what it meant to have love, to have friendship, to have something that wasn’t like a dagger in her chest. She wanted something tangible and real. She wanted home. 

Hiding under her bed, hugging a composition book in her arms, Lala squinted her eyes as she listened to her parents argue downstairs. Her heart was racing as she struggled to swallow. Flinching at the sudden sound of shattered glass, she started thinking of the ticking of a metronome, counting with each measure, each pulse. She gently tapped on the notebook, trying to manage the adrenaline to flight, fight or freeze.  

This constant state of not feeling safe was like inclement weather. Something she was growing used to and each time it would get worse. Her scars grew deeper, but her mind and her heart became stronger. At least she would like to tell herself that. She remembered when she was younger and her body movements were tighter and her appetite was non-existent. Now though she felt her PTSD fueling her differently. 

Her heart skipped a beat when she could hear the doorknob shaking. She had locked the door, which she knew her father wouldn’t like. As expected, Charles’ voice sternly boomed, causing her to squint her eyes tighter. [color=45773b]“Lorelei, what did I tell you about locking your door?”[/color] 

She didn’t answer. 

[color=45773b]“I know you’re in there, so open up. For Daddy, [i]please[/i],”[/color] he maliciously insisted, trying to coat his anger with sweetness. [color=45773b]“I’ve had a long day… I’d like to see how you’re doing. I know how badly you’ve missed me.”[/color] When she continued to stay silent, he started forcibly pushing himself into the door, until he was able to break the lock and unceremoniously open it. She lost her chance to get away. She should’ve ran. She should’ve left. 

Regret washed over her as she was counting the seconds before he inevitably found her. Listening to his footsteps, she froze, biting her cheek to keep quiet. He checked a few areas and then suddenly, abruptly, he was down on the ground. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her to him, wrapping her legs around him. He whispered, [color=45773b]“There you are…”[/color]  

She whimpered and cried, [color=#3b776d]“Daddy please…”[/color] 

Gasping for air and opening her eyes, Lala processed her environment and noticed she was still under the bed. Her dad hadn’t made it to the door yet. Her parents were still fighting downstairs. Everything that had just transpired was all in her head. Everything her dad just did… was all in her head. It played out how she expected things to turn out. It played out like a nightmare.

With a sudden burst of urgency, Lala crawled out from under the bed, quickly packed a backpack of a couple outfits, some of her songbooks, Pierce’s ring, which was their birth dad’s ring, and threw on a sweater to hide any healing bruises. She didn’t know where she was going but she needed to get out and get out fast. 

Tossing her backpack outside to the backyard, she looked out her window. There was nothing to climb down from the second floor to the bottom so she would need to escape… around her parents. Trying her best to not hesitate, Lala went to her door, unlocked it, and peered to see if it was safe. They were still downstairs. Tiptoeing out, she found her way to the back stairs that led to the kitchen and the basement. She hid in the bathroom when she heard her parents getting closer to the stairs, yelling and screaming. One of them was going to come up. 

What was she doing? 

She needed to get out of here. 

Opening the bathroom door, hearing her dad’s footsteps coming up, her mom sobbing as he left her behind, Lala took to the second stairs. While she was trying to be as quiet as possible, she was also trying to get the hell out of there, swiftly. When she got to the kitchen door, she could hear her mom opening a bottle of what was likely some hard liquor, ready to drink her misery away. It was only a matter of time her mother would get violent. 

When her mother’s footsteps became quiet, Lala taking note of her walking right on the broken glass, remains from the fight, she peered through the door and waited for the miserable woman to vanish from sight.  No longer waiting to escape, Lala rushed to the backdoor, from the kitchen, took a quiet exit, found her bag and booked it. As she ran, she could hear her stepfather yelling. 

[i]Just go, don’t stop.[/i] 

Having no idea of direction, Lorelei ran. And ran. And ran. She didn’t want to be in that house anymore. She hated it and she hated them. She missed Pierce. It wasn’t until she was crossing the railroad tracks, down Maple, running past Gardenview and straight through Carlisle Avenue that she ran into a strikingly beautiful woman, who carried herself with grace and caution. A woman she’s never seen before. A woman that carried the most earnest yet saddest smiles. 

[color=9f2a57]“Woah, woah, baby…. what’s got you in a hurry?”[/color] The mysterious [url=https://es.web.img2.acsta.net/pictures/17/12/27/16/32/3579962.jpg]lady[/url] held the shaking girl close, glancing around to see if she was being followed and if she was, by who. Simply by the way this stranger was holding onto her, Lala could feel a maternal presence. Far warmer than her mother ever held her.  

[color=#3b776d]“I, uh…”[/color] Lala stuttered, realizing that her actions would have consequences and that her father would be pissed if he found out she ran away. [color=#3b776d]“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…. I-I’m… I’m sorry.” [/color]

The stranger knelt down so that they were on the same level, giving Lala an opportunity to look into her big, blue eyes, [color=9f2a57]“Baby, baby. Breathe,”[/color] She gently held onto Lala’s shoulders, soothing her and showing her that she was safe. No one was going to hurt her. [color=9f2a57]“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. I’m here to help. My name is Samantha, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me your name, I—”[/color]

[color=#3b776d]“Lorelei. My friend… she calls me Lala,”[/color] The porcelain beauty muttered. Her teeth jittering from the shock she just put her body through. 

[color=9f2a57]“A pretty name for a pretty girl. Are you okay? Did something happen to you? Here, come with me,”[/color] Sam directed the younger girl out from the middle of the street, continuing to stay vigilant, using her peripheral vision to pay attention to their surroundings. When Lala couldn’t answer, Sam didn’t press on. Instead she asked, [color=9f2a57]“Where would you like me to take you? Where’s home?”[/color]

The last question made Lala’s face grow even more pale than she already was. Terrified at the idea of going back and seeing what her parents would do to her. To see what her step father would do to her. [color=#3b776d]“I- I don’t want to go home.”[/color] 

When Lala looked at her in that way, Sam understood immediately and even felt a rush of grief as she thought of her own siblings. [color=9f2a57]“Okay, baby, we won’t go home. What we will do is, I’m going to drop you off somewhere I know is safe. You can stay there as long as you need. At this place, all those that live there, protect each other. But I’ll need you to be a big girl and knock on someone’s door, okay? I assure you, no one there is going to hurt you. I…”[/color] Sam tried to gather the words that while she wanted to help her with this, she knew a vulnerable girl staying this close to her was never a good thing. She had only just gotten out of prison and it was only a matter of time her ‘parents’ would want to grab a bite and talk business. 

Lala didn’t have the resources to really understand this situation so she obediently nodded and followed Sam’s direction. In time, they found themselves in front of Lost Souls Home. Her parents talked ill about the Southside, made it seem like it was a scary place but just by looking at it. It made Lala sad. The lack of funding made her sad. Her parents weren’t rich by any means but a place that provided shelter for people, wouldn’t you think there would be more money going towards it? 

[color=9f2a57]“It’s not like… the Carlisle mansion. Or well, Teddy Grimm’s manor, but I promise you none of that matters when you have good company,”[/color] Sam stared ahead at it, remembering the nostalgic feeling, especially when she met the love of her life. Not letting the feelings of old overtake her, focusing on the present for this child in need, Samantha turned to Lala and offered her a burner phone, [color=9f2a57]“If you want to stay hidden, give me your phone. Nowadays smartphones have trackers. This here isn’t anything fancy but if you need to call someone, it can do that and only that. Here,”[/color] Sam put her actual cell phone number into the phone before exchanging devices with Lorelei. [color=9f2a57]“If you need anything, anything, I’ll pick up. I always pick up. Right now I’m currently figuring out my own living situation, which is why I can’t just bring you to my house. Let me know who takes you in and what room. I’ll send food there. Does that sound okay with you?”[/color]

[color=#3b776d]“... yes… I, question?”[/color] Lala puzzlingly inquired, feeling like she was in a dream and that some higher power sent her a guardian angel. Maybe her brother sent her a protector. 

[color=9f2a57]“Answer,”[/color] Sam quickly responded, surveying Lala’s bag and already thinking of ways to provide for this girl. 

Lala grabbed the edge of her sweater sleeves and nervously gulped, [color=#3b776d]“Why are you being so nice to me?” [/color]

Sam’s gaze softened. Gently and slowly, she brushed a few strands out of Lala’s face and behind her ear, [color=9f2a57]“Babygirl. Not everyone is out to hurt you. In time, you’ll learn who’s your home and who isn’t. I do this because I understand you. I know how you feel. Caged. No escape. Everyone else has control over you and all you want to do is…”[/color]

[color=#3b776d]“Fly?”[/color]

[color=9f2a57]“Precisely,”[/color] the beautiful guardian angel nodded, pulling Lala back into a warm embrace. So tender and loving. Both ladies starved for healthy intimacy and love. For family.  [color=9f2a57]“If protecting children is part of my purpose so they don’t live the same life I did, I’ll give it my all.”[/color] They held each other for a moment longer. 

There was something about this older woman that Lala could feel this wasn’t one-sided. Miss Samantha needed her just as much as Lala needed a role model. Whether the mystery woman needed a hug or to feel the presence of a young person needing her, Lala couldn’t help but want to embrace her. To make this feeling last forever. She wished her mother was like this. She wished her mother was like Sam. But Lala knew better than to wish. Wishes didn’t come easy for people stuck in their dark place with no way out. Wishes weren’t meant for people like Sam and her. 

Pulling away from each other, breaking the needed hug, Sam gestured to the front entrance. [color=9f2a57]“The first step of flying is knowing you are capable. I can’t stay but I will be back, you can count on that.”[/color] After a few more exchanged words, Lala watched the strong woman, a living testimony that you can walk through hell and survive, saunter down the street, turning down a road and disappearing.  

Lorelei had been on her own since her brother died. Maybe this was her sign. Her sign to fly. Pierce’s Duckling would not live a life in fear anymore. Pierce’s Duckling had wings that needed to be used so why not use it? Pierce’s Ducking would live. Live for him but more importantly, live for herself. Live a life, unchained and ready to fight… whatever that means. 

Starting at this lovely place Sam brought her to.  

[b]The Home for Lost Souls.[/b] 
[/indent][/indent][/color]