Saving Ally

Chapter 13

— Ally Christian

    I stare at Drew and then glance at my dad who is out cold on the ground. I sit up slowly and look over at Drew once more. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. He's shocked at what he's done too. He's shaking as he looks at his fist, then my dad, then at me.

    "Ally..." he says softly. His eyes are full or fear and regret, but also a hint of satisfaction. He kneels down in front of me, but doesn't touch me.

    "What did you do?" I ask, but already knowing the answer. He looks down, most likely ashamed of what he had just done. I can almost see the gears turning in his head as he thinks. Before he can say anything, I crawl over to my dad. I two fingers on his neck to feel for a pulse.

    "That punch didn't kill him don't worry," he sighs, and sits on the beanbag at the foot of my bed.

    I look at my dads bruised eye and bloody lip. For once, he looks innocent, and peaceful. I wipe the blood off his lip with his shirt, and I gently touch his purple, puffy eye. He looks like the dad I knew before, when my mother was alive, minus the blood and puffy eye. He doesn't look like he's full of hate and regret. He looks like a normal person, not an alcoholic. I have the urge to hug him like I use to. I want to remember the good times that I use to have with him and mom, but I can't. It's impossible now. Now that I know what he's become.

    I look over at Drew. He's examining his fist with a sad look on his face. "Help me pick him up. We're going to put him in his room," I say. He nods and walks over to me.

    He grabs his upper body and I grab his legs. We both haul my dad off the ground and walk downstairs to his room. He carefully place him on his bed and Drew helps me change his shirt. Throughout the entire thing the only noise is breathing and footsteps.

    After my dad is in a clean shirt, I get my first aid kit and clean up his lip. Drew and I put him underneath his covers and we head back upstairs.

    Once upstairs, I collapse on my bed. Drew sits on the edge of my bed next to me, but stays quiet. After a few minutes of silence he speaks. "How's your head?" he asks. I sit up and lean against the wall.

    "It's fine," I respond.

    He shifts uncomfortably. "Are you sure? That looked like it hurt. Why do you let him do that to you anyway? You know that's abuse."

    I instantly look up at him, not sure I heard him correctly. "That's not abuse," I say.

    He looks over at me and nods. "Ally...-"

    "Don't even say that it's abuse, because it's not. I-I just...i-it's not what y-you th-think," I stutter, cutting him off. I look down at my hands, and think about all the times that he's hurt me. He's only left a cut or bruise on me a couple times. Am I getting abused?

    "Let me see your arms," Drew says. I shake my head quickly. That's the number one thing I cannot do.

    "Why won't you let me see your arms? Do you have bruises on your arms?" he asks. I shake my head again. "Then why won't you let me see your arms?"

    I look down, and mess with the zipper only jacket. I bite my bottom lip as the tears swell up in my eyes. He places a hand on my wrist, but I pull away violently. He stares at me into my eyes and I stare back. "I-I think y-you should g-go," I whisper, holding my wrist that has been touched by him close to my chest.

    "Ally, I just want to help y-"

    "Go Drew," I forcefully say. He sits in the same spot for a moment before standing up and walking to my door. I look down at my bed as he opens the door. I feel his eyes on me before walking out the room, closing the door behind him.

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