Despite being back home, Polly wasn't really back home. She wasn't in her old bedroom. She didn't eat dinner with the family. She refused to interact with her siblings, both of which weren't too crazy about her, either.

When she'd stepped into her house weeks prior, she knew her parents had moved on, but now actually living in the house, she absolutely knew they had moved on. No pictures of her were anywhere on the walls. Her parents hadn't kept her clothes or her toys, except the ones her two siblings now played with.

Her blankets were gone. Her flower comforter was gone. Her toothbrush, her candles, her everything was gone, as if she'd never lived there at all to begin with. She tortured herself, thinking about how long it had taken them. Did they wait a month? A year? Did they even wait at all?

She was set up in the old office space, her mattress shoved in the corner of the room. A couple of throw blankets were draped over the white sheets, but even that made Polly fume. Her parents didn't even buy her a proper comforter.

Nothing else was in her room. Just the mattress. She had no time to pack before leaving her aunt and uncles, so her clothes were missing. Her sketchbook was gone. Everything she owned didn't travel with her, and it made her feel empty on the inside.

The office didn't even have windows.

She was a prisoner in her own home. Her door was locked from the outside, and if she knocked twice, maybe someone would let her use the bathroom. Maybe. If someone was around.

She thought about Kenzie and Minny, and what they were doing. She wondered about Lennard, his girl, and Tanner. Whether or not the campaign was going well, or if it was crashing and burning like her parents predicted it would.

Her door opened, without warning. Polly didn't even bother moving off of the mattress; she simply looked up at the intruder, and was a little surprised to see her younger sister. The little girl hadn't been very welcoming when Polly had come back, but now there was nothing but curiosity on her face as she peered down at Polly.

Her blonde hair was pulled back in pigtails, and she held tight to the stuffed bear she was always carrying.

Polly said nothing. She just watched the girl, looking into her wide blue eyes. Innocent, young, happy. Just like Polly had been at that age. Before her parents became homophobic snobs with a passion for abandoning their child.

The girl held out the bear. "It says Polly on the tag. I thought... I thought Polly was the bear's name. But, it's yours."

The words made Polly's gut clench, and the little girl had this strange expression on her face, one of wonder and amazement. Like two puzzle pieces found in random places being brought together, fitting perfectly when they shouldn't.

Polly took the offered bear, turning it over in her hands. Her bear had been a gift from her father, and it was worn from being played with for many years. Seeing the bear again made Polly's chest tighten in pain, and she wanted nothing more than to rip the bear to shreds. To yell at her father, to ask him why he'd pretended to love her so much when in reality, he didn't care about her at all.

Instead, she handed it back to her sister.

"It used to be my bear." Polly ran a hand through her tangled hair and let out a sigh. "What's your name?"

The little girl squatted down and leaned towards Polly. She was thin and short, the same build as Polly. Even the tilt of her head resembled a picture Polly owned of herself at a young age. The resemblance was unnerving. "Wendy. And the baby is Sammy."

Polly moved over, so Wendy could join her on the mattress. With her back against the wall, Polly looked up at the ceiling, wondering if this was the right thing to do. She didn't want to know her siblings. She wanted nothing to do with her parents and their new family. But she knew that they were as trapped as she once was.

"How old are you, Wendy?"

Wendy squeezed the bear to her chest and crawled onto the mattress, next to Polly. "I'm six. Mommy and daddy never talked about you. Why did you leave?"

Polly felt the bitterness on her tongue, but swallowed it down, for fear of frightening her sister. She wasn't rude; never had been. "I didn't leave. Mommy and daddy sent me away."

Wendy didn't understand, but Polly didn't further explain the situation. At six, Polly had been young and happy too, thinking that her parents had loved her with their entire being. That she was cherished, and lived with a perfect family. If only she'd known how they really were.

"Wendy, I wish we met earlier. When you were born. But mommy and daddy don't like me very much. And once I turn eighteen, I'm leaving again." Polly wished she knew if she was leaving on her own will, or if she was leaving to another camp. The uncertainty of the situation left her in crisis mode.

"Wendy?" Their mother's voice rang through the house, startling the little girl. For a moment, her eyes went wide with what looked like the expression of someone being caught doing something they were not supposed to be doing. She shot off of the mattress, then stumbled and fell. The wooden floor was unforgiving, and Wendy didn't move for a moment, whether in shock or in pain. When their mother entered the room and saw Wendy on the ground, tears in her eyes, her mother glared at Polly.

"What did you do to her?"

Polly didn't bother standing. She didn't have the strength to defy her mother, not today. Probably not ever, now that she was locked away in a dungeon they once called the office. "I didn't do anything. Wendy came in here on her own."

Her mother snatched Wendy in her arms tightly. "You are the devil's child, and I do not want you talking to Wendy ever again, do you hear me? She doesn't need a bad influence like you screwing her up!"

Polly bit her tongue before she said something that would put her in a worse situation. She wanted to tell her mother that it wasn't her that was the bad influence. But, Polly knew she needed to be smart about this, and angering her parents wasn't going to grant her freedom from the locked room. So she took a deep breath and didn't respond.

"It's true, mommy. I came in here. I wanted to meet her. She's the girl in the pictures, right? The one that looks like me?"

Polly wanted to ask about the photos, but she didn't. She didn't rise to the bait, or even attempt to wonder what pictures Wendy would be talking about. She had assumed her parents had gotten rid of everything she owned.

Her mother paused, thinking of what to say. For a moment, the look on her face was of guilt and sorrow, and it was aimed towards Polly. For a moment, time froze, and Polly pictured a world where her parents had loved her despite who she loved. She pictured a loving family that she could bring her girlfriend home to.

Before her mother's expression could turn dark, Polly reached out. "Mom, wait. Please don't leave me in here. I want to get to know them, Wendy and Sammy. I want to live here, not just be here. I want... I want to feel like a part of this family."

It was true, to an extent. Polly didn't want to be trapped in the office, locked away like a prisoner. She wasn't interested in interacting with her parents, but she was interested in interacting with her siblings, even if she knew getting close to them was a bad idea. And she didn't really want to be in this family, but she had to be smart. She had to play the game in order to win.

Her mother was surprised, but behind her expensive make-up, Polly could almost see the woman she used to be. The woman before she found out Polly was gay. The woman that would read her to bed and play with her after work.

"You have me here, mom. There's no where I can go. Just... please. Don't leave me alone in this room all the time. I miss the old days, when we'd sit in the living room and play board games. Or, when we'd all sit on the couch under one blanket and watch a movie. I miss that."

Her mother was hesitant. Wendy was not. "Please mommy? I want to know Polly too. Do you think she'd want to be invited to my tea party? The big chair is for Mr. Muffins, but maybe he'd share. Do you think he'd share with Polly?"

"Fine. Your door will be unlocked. There is absolutely no leaving the house, but you may come downstairs."

Polly felt hope trickle in her chest. Play the game. Play the game and you could win. If she ignored her parents, refused to play their games, she'd be trapped in the office forever, without a way to escape. At least this way, she would be able to have some freedom. And it was freedom that would save her in the end, not wasting away.

Polly jumped to her feet, the urge to hug her mother strong. First, she needed a shower. Then, she needed to find her father. It had always been him that had been the strong arm in the family. Whatever he said, her mother followed.

Manipulation was not Polly's game; that was Tanner's game. However, manipulation was what would save Polly, and she wasn't beneath saving herself over saving the feelings of those around her, especially her parents.

She'd always been a sweet kid. The kind that adults loved. Manipulation was never her game, but it was about time it became her strongest weapon. If that was all she had to work with, she'd master the art of tricking others and making them do what she wanted.

She stood on weak legs, and her mother held a disapproving look on her face, but it was face value only; Polly could tell her mother was remembering what their family looked like before Polly was sent away.

The shower was scalding hot, but Polly didn't mind the pain on her skin. It helped her focus on what she needed to do now. She was going to have a tutor. She would have no contact with anyone outside the household. And she had no idea of how Tanner was doing.

She had no idea how Kenzie was doing. If Kenzie missed her as much as Polly did. When Polly closed her eyes, she pictured the pink haired girl smiling. How quickly things had moved forward in their relationship. Sometimes, Polly still couldn't believe the girl liked her back.

Outside of the shower, her mother had laid down a dress for her to wear. It looked like it'd come from the 60's, with a poofed out bottom and a belt wrapped around her waist. It was blue, and immediately Polly understood what this was, what was happening.

Her mother was going to turn her into the perfect child, force her to be someone she wasn't. Force her to be proper, to be well dressed with polite manners. The daughter she'd always wanted.

Polly wanted to put on her old clothes, but she knew she had to be smart about this. She knew she had to play the game in order to win, and if that meant wearing dresses and acting like the straight little girl her parents wanted, then Polly would do it.

She pulled on the dress, brushed her wet hair, then stepped out of the bathroom. With her heart in her throat, Polly walked down the stairs, her legs trembling in anticipation. After being locked in the office for a few days, this was a luxury to her. This was the turning point of her escape.

Waiting at the bottom of the stairs was her mother, holding up a hairbrush. Beside her stood a teenage boy, dressed impeccably in a button down shirt and khaki pants. He looked like he'd stepped out of Nantucket.

Polly felt frozen to the spot for a moment. Not only was her mother forcing her to dress like a good Christian girl, she'd found a boy for Polly to spend her time with.

"Polly, meet Alex. He's going to be taking you out to a late afternoon lunch this afternoon."

Alex's smile matched her mother's; completely diabolical, like he knew exactly what this date meant in terms of Polly's freedom.

* * *

I'm back!!

What do you think about Polly having to pretend to be straight? How do you feel about her having to pretend date this boy? Where do you think this will be going?

How do you think Kenzie feels right now? Probably lonely :(

I love you all!! XOXO