Chapter Text
Places, places, get in your places
Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces
Everyone thinks that we're perfect
Please don't let them look through the curtains
Prologue.
'Wake up , Betty!'
Cheryl Blossom felt like crying with frustration. ‘Betty.’ She said softly, and then the blonde’s name was becoming progressively more choked in her throat. ‘Betty, can you hear me?!’
But it was fruitless. Of course Betty couldn't hear her. In Betty’s mind however, it was a whole different story. Cheryl was right. Betty couldn't hear her.
First there was silence. There was birdsong, followed by the gentle rattle of tree's shedding leaves. It was a whole different world in Betty Cooper’s mind, as oppose to the disturbing reality she was unaware of. Cheryl had tried. She had really tried. As much as she enjoyed having friends, as she had grown up, she had realized it was wrong. As she matured and her birthday’s passed; her tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth- fourteenth- Their birthday’s had passed too. There had been no celebration, no cake or presents for what her family had nicknamed; ‘The Frozen Children.’
Though they weren't children any more. Cheryl had watched them change from the little kids they had been on that hot August day five years ago. She had watched them grow older, mature from the kids she once knew. Their hair grew longer, clipped so it was neat. Honey blonde hair grew out thick and fast, so Cheryl’s mother had tied it back. Childish red curls had grown out, became thinner and started to obstruct frozen brown eyes. Though Cheryl wasn't even sure his eyes were still brown. They had been glued shut for five years and counting. All she saw was his little self, his gleeful grin and excited chocolate coloured eyes. But somehow, she figured he wasn’t like that any more. When she was old enough to know what feelings were, for her to start being spiked by fluttery butterflies in her stomach. She had that feeling a lot when she looked at him. He had grown handsome over the years. Sometimes she wondered what would happen if he opened his eyes.
Cheryl’s parents didn't leave them to die. They were kept healthy and fed. Just like the witch had advised. So, the children weren't skinny. The boys had become muscular and chunky. Facial hair had started to sprout, that was quickly trimmed away. The girls had matured into women. Tangled pigtails had smoothed out, skin had started to glisten a warm honey colour. But as the years had gone by, and Cheryl had lived the same day over and over again- the crystal blue sky, the burning sun, and the tickle of grass and flowers on her legs. It had started to frustrate her. They were supposed to be her friends, and they were. It just wasn’t enough. Her mature self no longer wanted to live in a fake memory with children who had grown way beyond their age. At least...physically. Mentally, they were still ten years old. They were still playing in Elizabeth Cooper’s garden in the dirt.
So they remained a sort of art. In a twisted kind of way. They were kind of beautiful. Sometimes when Cheryl was sick of the fake world- the childish giggling and nursery rhymes. She liked to escape back into reality. Though reality itself was even more terrifying than the fake world. In the real world, there was just the Blossom basement and four kids trapped in a glowing blue aura. Cheryl used to think it was beautiful. The light contrasted their skin perfectly. But now, they didn't even look human. They looked like ghosts. Spirits, whose minds were trapped in a fabricated Utopia.
Betty Cooper was the one who interested her. She had just a flicker of life, of subconscious awareness. She wasn't like the others. So that was why Cheryl was standing in front of the girl. She was sick of the fake reality, she was sick of watching the kids grow up with no knowledge of their age. Betty seemed to be louder than the others. Cheryl sensed the girl was awake, somewhere. Right at the back of a ten year old mind, a sixteen year old was slamming her fists into the barrier. It had happened a few weeks ago. During the monthly check-up. The witch had been conducting tests on the kids. Seeing if they were starting to wake up. After all, five years was a long time. Cheryl had been standing at the back of the room, trying incredibly hard not to speak out. She wanted to tell her parents she no longer needed friends. After all, she was old enough now to make her own.
Though that was when Betty Cooper had flinched. Just a small flinch, barely noticeable. The witch hadn’t noticed it, neither had her parents. They were too busy marvelling the others. Who were like statues. Sitting down statues of course. ‘Look at them,’ Cheryl’s mother had purred. It had made her feel a little sick. Penelope Blossom was caressing Jughead Jones’s motionless face. Cheryl couldn't deny that he too was handsome. ‘They have grown into fine young people.’ She smiled curtly, and turned to Cheryl. ‘Do you still like them, honey?’
‘Yes.’ Cheryl had answered automatically. If she answered differently, they wouldn’t hesitate in getting rid of them. In her mother and father’s eyes, the kids were nothing more but dolls that she played with in her mind. Dolls who were getting older. Far too big for their dollhouse. Sometimes Cheryl blamed the four’s fate on her brother’s death. Jason had died five years ago, the same year Betty Cooper and her friends became her new friends. Her new play pieces. Jason had always been part of her. He was her twin, her best friend. The only thing keeping her from losing it. Cheryl hadn’t been the easiest child. She had had multiple therapists because when she was little she enjoyed cutting worms in half, picking the legs off spiders. Her parents thought she was sadistic. But Jason was her anchor. He stopped her from completely going off her rocker. When she was six, her little puppy Ringo had gone missing. A few days later, his blood stained collar had been found rung around one of Cheryl’s Barbie dolls necks. When Jason died, Penelope and Clifford Blossom were terrified what their little girl- what their little monster would do next.
So they found her new friends who she could play with until her heart was content. Until she had stopped murdering her pets and hanging her dolls from nooses made of ribbons. Though with the four, it was different. She couldn't hurt them, since they were inside her head. The witch had told her she could visit them whenever she wanted. And for the past five years, she had.
Except Cheryl was far too old to play with them any-more. Cheryl smiled sweetly. It was a grimace her parents ignored. ‘Yes, I love them, mommy.’ She said. But instead of paying attention to her parents, she was far more interested in the fact that Betty Cooper’s head had jolted slightly. Like the girl, for just a second, had been shoved back into reality. It had only lasted a few seconds, and it was probably just a regular spasm. The witch had explained that these kind of things happened. Especially as they grew older.
But for Cheryl Blossom, it was enough. It was more than enough. It was the first breakthrough she had had in years. So Cheryl screamed and screamed and screamed. Even when Betty's eyelids were shut, when her lips were blue, and her skin had a deathly ombré shade to it. Cheryl leaned in close. So close she could just about feel Betty Cooper's shallow breath on her own face. She inhaled deeply and muttered a silent apology before her lips gently touched the tip of Betty's ear. It was ice cold.
Cheryl knew it was wrong. She knew how twisted and disgusting the crime was. But yet, even when she so desperately wanted to save them from a nightmare they were blissfully unaware of, a small piece of her wanted to leave them. Frozen in time. Four sixteen year old's the town had forgotten.Their parents had moved on, having been wiped too. The four of them had nobody but her. The girl responsible for their ugly fate.
Cheryl could never wake them up. They were like modern fairy tales. Four Sleeping Beauty’s. Except it would take much more than true love’s kiss to break the spell. To break the spell, she needed to screech. And after Betty Cooper’s spark of life, of momentary movement, Cheryl knew she could do it. She could break the spell. She needed to smash through the stubborn barrier that had been forced into place, blocking Betty Cooper’s mind from reality. From her matured sixteen year old body.
Cheryl Blossom opened her mouth, her chest clenching. Would this even work? She had to try. If not, they were trapped forever. Eternally stuck in the Summer of 2009. So, without hesitating, Cheryl imagined reaching inside the girl’s head and violently yanking Betty out of it. Cheryl screamed. And she didn't stop screaming until Betty Cooper’s eyes fluttered open.