❛ The Fifth Wall ❜ - A Dallas Winston Fanfiction

-ˋˏ Chapter 1 ˎˊ-

She got terribly sick. Terribly sick of it all. No one cared nor would they know if she left or returned anyway.

"Dad, I'm leaving!" She called across the living room standing in the doorway with a large crossbody tote bag slung around her body. She shifted her weight from her left foot to her right as she awaited a response from her father.

No answer.

"Dad?"

No answer.

She was getting angry. This is her last day in this house - heck maybe even the last time either of them will ever see her - and yet they still wouldn't make a single stir to the sound of her voice. Maybe it's because she had been a mouse all her life, and had nothing but digit-letter responses or even a small hum come out of her every now and then. But oh her voice carries well whenever she did formulate full sentences, especially when she had been angry like she is right now.

"What's your deal, kid?!" Her father came storming out of his room with bloodshot, tired eyes and a bored waiting expression.

"I said I'm leaving-"

"Oh speak up will ya? I didn't leave my room for you to just mumble."

She lightly flinched at his tone. You'd have to know her really well to notice it. She didn't even know she was speaking softly again.

"I said im leaving," She restated, managing some makeshift confidence to be peppered in her voice.

Her dad rolled his eyes amd turned on his heel to make his way back into his room. When he opened the door to enter, Darlene coumd hear a other typical episode of Gilligan's Island where The Skipper began yelling at Gilligan for once again another stupid mistake. The door slammed and the house shook a little. A picture of Darlene's parents on their wedding day rattled against the wall from the impact. She was sure it'd fall one day. They did. You couldn't even tell they were married anymore. Why? Perhaps they're scared to accept they had made a mistake and were no longer in love, and probably weren't in the first place.

Darlene sighed exhasperstingly. She opened the door allowing the lightly cool wind caress against her cheeks and across her nose. She was just about to step out the door until she looked back over her shoulder, getting one last look of the house she grew up in much too fast and way too soon. Before she had the chance to let her heart take over her mind, she snapped her hand back facing the palm tree in front of her, swaying as if pointing in the direction towards her own personal freedom and encouraging her to let her other foot out the door. She then nodded to herself and stepped outside.

Taking the house key out of her bag and locking the door with it, she closed her eyes and tossed it into a dumpster three feet away from her. She thought: Garbage day is tomorrow. It rattled against the metal and then hit the bottom with a "cling!" Oh she really was doing this alright. She opened her eyes, tucking a lose strand of hair, that was blocking her left eye, behind her ear and began to walk toward her new home. Even though she hadn't a clue where that was yet, she figured she'd make it work.

Boy was she sick! At this point she had been coughing up blood for seventeen years being there and not having a single soul remind her she exists. Begging constantly for them to at least look at her - she didn't care if it was of disgust or love anymore. Just something. That made her sick. Humans were made for interaction, families for love and protection. Why did she have roomates instead?