I didn't have what others would call a "happy childhood." I think most would believe my life was outright terrible, and I'd have to agree. I had my issues, ones I didn't talk about at school or to other family. Things I hid for the longest time to avoid ever really dealing with, and that's because, when I was a kid, I was beaten.
Every opportunity my stepdad got when my mother wasn't home he'd beat the everloving shit out of me. My only real saving grace was that he'd never do it when my mother was home, his torture would just be psychological then. He'd send me to my room in the middle of the day and not let me out for anything save bathroom breaks (which was the only time I was able to get anything to drink.) Another one of his favorite things to do was just intimidate me by yelling. I was around six at the time and this man in his late 20s would get in my face and start yelling like a drill sergeant about the most minor of things. God forbid I ever did something major, I'm sure I wouldn't have survived. I was cursed at and threatened with weaponry (chains most of the time), and all this time my mother did nothing. I don't know if it's because she was just as afraid of this guy as I was, or if she was complicit in it. Hell, there were a few times I ran away from home when I saw the car leave because I thought it meant it was time for another beating. Growing older just made me more bitter about everything that had happened when I was a kid, but there was one thing I remember. One thing that was able to simultaneously take the pain away and make it worse all at once. I remember the fun room.
It was the weekend, and my mother had to go somewhere, leaving me alone with the man I'll call Hank. As soon as the door closed and we heard the engine start, he turned to me with a look of sickened disgust. The first blow was always the worst because it was always so hard to mentally prepare for. He struck me across the face, sending me reeling onto the ground. As I stared up at the ceiling fan in our little apartment it began to split and the light went from single to many. It was like I was staring at a sky full of stars. The first blow was always the worst because after that my brain would sort of shut down. I'd stop feeling the assault and just go numb.
This time was different, though. It wasn't a numbness that overtook me, it was this weird sense of calm. I drifted in the strange yellowed starlight for what felt like hours before I slowly found myself falling into a room. The walls were a combination of sickly yellow and deep maroon, the light overhead seemed to be a collection of ceiling fans similar to the one at home, and the floor was a collection of checkered tiles the same color as the walls. There was music playing on a loudspeaker somewhere and a sign hung above the place that read "Welcome to the Fun Room!" As I took in my surroundings I was reminded of an indoor playground or kid's pizza place. There was a set of bumper cars, a ball pit, video games, slides, and any toy a child could ever think to want. I was confused, but something deep inside me told me I was safe here, and that I should play to my heart's content.
So I did.
I played video games, played with toys, slid down the slides, and had a wonderful time, but there was something that bothered me about this place. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I was the only one here, which didn't enter my thoughts at first, not until I decided to try the bumper cars. But that didn't dig into my head as much as something else, for all the fun that was here, there was still a strange dark corner in the room. It filled me with overwhelming nervous energy, so I avoided it. I spent my time enjoying the fun room, playing to my heart's content, but then there was a sound. It came from the PA overhead, like an alarm of sorts. "All children within the Fun Room, the Fun Room is now closed. We hope you enjoyed your time here, we'll be here for you if you ever need us again."
I woke up on the ground. Hank was good about not leaving bruises or making me bleed. I was in my room, sore and tired. Weakly, I pulled myself onto my bed and smiled. The Fun Room would be there if I needed it again. It was a light in an otherwise black room. I lay in bed with a big smile on my face until I drifted off to sleep.
I spent at least a day a week in the fun room. It was my little slice of heaven, my only escape from the agony of my stepfather's beatings. Something was wrong, though. Every time I went, I was the only one there, and I was beginning to grow bored. Strangely, as if the room itself could sense my restlessness, things began to change. They were minor at first, different games and music, and slight changes to the ball pit and playground.
Then, one day, Hank disappeared for a while. When I asked my mom about it, she said he had done something bad and went to jail for it. That was all there was to it. I thought he was out of my life, but Mom would visit him once a month, and he'd send me cards. Admittedly, he was a great artist, and I thought it was cool to have someone drawing personalized pictures for me. I had almost forgotten about the violence, but it always festered in the back of my mind like an infected wound. That's what he was to me. An open sore that'd never truly heal, one that scabbed over my ability to trust any parental male figure. Part of me prayed my mother was done with him, but I had a brother, and his father was Hank. I'd never truly be away from him.
I shouldn't have been surprised when I came home from school to find him in our house again. I shouldn't have been surprised when my mother had to leave and he laid into me. I shouldn't have been surprised when the world started spinning again, but I was. I was surprised by all of it because it had been nearly a year since I had visited the Fun Room. Yet, there I was again. Dull yellow and maroon walls, music playing on the PA system, but something was different. There was laughter, and as the world became clearer I saw them. Kids playing on the rides, enjoying the video games, and running around the playground without a care in the world. It was like the room had listened, and opened itself up to others so that I could have people to play with.
I ended up playing with a few of them more than the others. Jaime,Samantha,and Peter. They told me the Fun Room had brought them to play as well, that their lives away from here were full of bad people who did bad things to them. To me, that settled it. I didn't make this place up, it found me.
Every time I was about to wake, the PA would ding and announce the Fun Room closing. Every time they'd tell me they would be here for me if I needed them.
I ended up spending more time in the Fun Room than I had before Hank went away, but now I had people to play with. It was different, and more fun, but something was changing every time visited. I didn't notice it at first, it was subtle, but as my visits continued the dark corner in the room became larger and larger. Eventually, the playground was gone, consumed by the shadows.
When I had pointed it out to the others, Jaime and Pete both said the same thing "I don't remember any playground, come on, let's go play some games!"
Samantha did, though. "The dark part of the room is getting bigger. I don't like it..."
The PA system rang out. "All Children within the Fun Room, the Fun Room is now closed. We hope you enjoyed your time here, we'll be here for you if you ever need us again...but remember: stay out of the dark place."
I wanted to call out, to ask what this "dark place" was. I wanted to know why it was growing, and why we weren't allowed to go there, but I was awake again before any words were formed. Why was a place that was such a paradise hiding something so sinister? What was this dark place? I had so many questions, none of them could be answered while I was conscious...and the only way to get back there was to let Hank do what he did best.
I didn't need to act out or misbehave. I just needed to be. Hank would do the rest. "Convincing" wasn't necessary. All it took was two days. After two days of me being my regular, fearful self, he found something to take offense to. I don't know what it was, or what I did wrong, but the look in Hank's eyes was one full of hate, and as the first blow hit me and stars exploded into the room I began to fear. What if this was the last time? What if I didn't wake up? He hit me again. What if I ended up trapped in the Fun Room? He hit me again. My thoughts were racing as I became more and more numb to the world around me. I could feel the hate boiling up inside of me, the rage, I wanted him to feel every blow I felt, every strike against me.
I drifted down, not from a place of fear, but one of hate and rage. When I arrived in the Fun Room, it was half its normal size. The kids were still playing, still having fun, but all I could focus on was that blackness. Ignoring the other children, I pressed forward and rushed headlong into the dark. Within moments, the Fun Room was just...gone. I stood in a place of pure darkness. I called out to it, but heard nothing, so I wandered forward, moving aimlessly through the darkness as I sought any sort of meaning within. This place wasn't like the Fun Room. It was different, not just empty, but cold. Every step I took felt like I was walking through molasses and after a slog that felt like hours I came upon it.
A baby doll sitting in the center of the darkness, radiating its own twisted light. Cautiously I approached, reaching out for the toy. I couldn't make heads or tails of any of this. The Fun Room, the doll, why Hank hated me so much, why my mother just let it happen...none of it made sense. My fingers curled around the head of the doll, and I screamed in frustration, yanking the thing's head off.
Everything shuddered, like an earthquake resonating through the empty space. Then, I saw more dolls. Hundreds more, forming hands and arms that pulled a torso of dolls free of the darkness. I watched in horror as a humanoid creature shaped by thousands of baby dolls pulled itself free, and I ran. The oppressive gloom of the darkness didn't exist anymore, there was just my overwhelming desire to escape the monster. I bolted until I saw light, and suddenly I was in the Fun Room again. Everyone was still playing, still enjoying themselves, completely oblivious to the thing that was coming.
I kept running, even as I saw it tear itself from the darkness. The other kids screamed as the doll creature opened its chest and shoveled them inside with out so much as a sound. I watched it take Jaime and Pete first as I rushed under a table to find Samantha and a few others. We watched as the creature ambled throughout the fun room, snatching up screaming kids and shoveling them into its maw.
It wasn't long before the table was upended. I bolted from my hiding place as the thing seized more of the kids. My legs burned and my lungs screamed as I kept moving until there was nowhere left to go, I had run right into a wall. I spun to face the thing, heart hammering a death hymn as I struggled to find my breath.
I watched that thing rip my Fun Room apart. I watched it consume those kids. Even Sam wasn't safe. She ran as fast as she could back toward the darkness, but it grabbed her. I watched her scream as it shoveled her into that empty void in its chest. Then it came for me, it rushed forward, the mouth in the center of its torso roaring silently, there was no place for me to run, I felt thousands of tiny plastic fingers wrap themselves around my arm. Felt my arm loosen in its socket and I felt the bone break. I screamed in pain as the thing spoke using the PA's voice.
"Thank you for coming to The Fun Room. Thank you for waking us up. We'll see you again soon."
I shot awake, but I wasn't at home. I was in a hospital bed. My arm had been wrapped in a cast, my mother was sitting at the side of my bed and when she saw me bolt upright her first instinct was to calm me.
"Hey, hey it's alright, you're ok now. No one's gonna hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby. I'm sorry I didn't see it. I didn't know. God, will you ever forgive me?"
The story went that Hank had finally made a mistake. My face was swollen and bruised, my arm dislocated and broken. He nearly killed me.
I don't know what the truth is, but it has been nearly 20 years since that night. I have a family of my own now, a wife and kids. The hate and confusion I had never really went away, in fact, I had heard Hank lost the use of his hands before passing away and I just laughed. There was no sympathy or guilt felt. I'm still terrified to close my eyes, the creature still lurks in my nightmares.
For the longest time I questioned the reality of the Fun Room, of the creature I saw there. Something changed that for me, recently though. My son brought me something. A doll, one that looks a lot like I did when I escaped the Fun Room...it even has a little cast on its arm.