meant to be yours | d.w

43

"I believe a strong woman may be stronger than a man, particularly if she happens to have love in her heart. I guess a loving woman is indestructible"

That very night was filled with events that haunt my very soul as I contemplate my choices even years later. For as I sit in my withering chair, looking back on my life filled with love and loss, I am conflicted with whether I should smile or frown.

I tried to the best of my ability to persuade Dallas that I could walk on my own, but words weren't being made quite audible at the moment. For my legs felt meek, my eyes were drained, and my body felt like simply succumbing to its desire to collapse.

Dallas carried me (without much communication) to the only place he knew to go to. The Curtis home. Carrying me bridal style, I felt nothing short of pure embarrassment, but I wasn't alone. For Dallas had no problem carrying me. He picked me up as if I weighed nothing, despite me not having the figure of a girl whose stick thin, but that didn't mean he liked having our relationship on display.

But even Dallas, the boy who is too cruel for this world alone, understood that now wasn't the time for petty complaints. For to be complacent is a manner that he can only reserve for another time.

Treading through the abandoned roads, Dallas had far too much on his mind. But to act on it would only be foolish. Rebecca has hardly seen him when he is truly dangerous. And he would prefer to keep it that way. Instead, he kept her enclosed in his arms, her eyes beginning to close as if mother nature herself was lifting her away into a life that was far better than this.

Once he had made it, he noticed the porch light was on. That's a good sign, he thought. He didn't bother knocking on the door, for Dallas can't even remember the last time that he allowed politeness to get the best of him.

He stepped inside, immediately catching sight of Sodapop sitting on the couch, watching cartoons. His eyes bulged in shock as he shot up off the couch as if his life depended on it. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. But, he was heavily concerned.

Rebecca had curled her head into Dallas, even the girl who was passed out didn't want to face the reality of the world.

Soda acknowledged the girls state, looking back up at Dallas with assumptions building up in his mind.

"What the hell did you do to her—"

"You think I did this?" Dallas looked taken aback before he paused for a moment, keeping his voice down as to not wake Rebecca. "It was that bastard James. I fucking knew he had it out for me."

Soda' glare never left the surface. "He did this?"

"Jesus Christ kid who do you think I am?"

Sodapop did not want to answer that question. For if he did, he would most certainly have his skull knocked in. Sodapop, he thinks that Dallas is capable of too many terrible deeds. He believes that Dallas is going to ruin Rebecca. That he's going to drag her down into a mindless pit of suffering that she will never be able to fully handle.

But did he actually say that? Of course not.

"Put her down on the couch, we'll figure somethin out."

Only Dallas didn't budge.

"You order me around one more damn time and you're gonna get it, got it?"

All Sodapop could manage to do was nod begrudgingly with that same hopeless look on his face that he knew would never shed. For in this moment, there was no time to be self absorbed. He had to figure out what the hell has happened, Rebecca couldn't possibly be passed out like a rag doll in Dallas' arms for nothing.