Second Chances: The Alison Dilaurentis Story

Chapter 3: All Alone

Alison makes it a hundred miles before the car runs out of gas. As the car sputters to a stop, she slams her hands on the steering wheel.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!"

Her breathing is ragged and tears begin to slide down her face as she realizes for the first time in a long time she is truly alone. She quickly composes herself and grabs her bag out of the backseat of the car and starts walking. She gets to a small town on the outskirts on New York City. She enters a bar and sits down in a booth, pulling out a blank journal and begins writing.

How did my life get to this point? Where did everything go wrong? Was it the first lie I told? The first time an older man gave me the love....no not love, attention I craved? All I have ever wanted was to just be myself. When did I lose that? I can't even recognize the girl I see in the mirror anymore. The closest I have ever came to seeing myself was when she kissed me. The butterflies. Her smile. She made me feel safe. I'll never get to tell her how I feel about her. I'll never get to tell the others how much they all mean to me. They made me feel safe. Like my brother used to. Before the drugs. Before the bad friends. I don't even know who I am anymore.

A man walks over and sits across from her.

"Hey, pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?"

Alison looks up. She knows she shouldn't but she doesn't want to feel anything anymore.

"Whiskey. Neat."

The guy heads to the bar and comes back with her drink a few minutes later. She sips the drink.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?"

She swirls the glass and raises an eyebrow.

"That's your best line?"

"Who says it's a line?"

Alison rolls her eyes and downs the rest of the drink.

"Thanks for the drink, but I'm not interested in any hookups."

Alison stands to leave but starts feeling lightheaded.

Alison wakes up in an alleyway early in the morning. Her things are strewn around her, her clothes are torn, and all of her money is gone. She tries to move but feels a sharp pain in her shoulder and side. She winces as she gets up and collects what is left of her things. She heads to a nearby gas station and goes in the bathroom to change. She pulls off her shirt and sees deep purple bruising around her ribcage and up the back side of her shoulder. She looks herself in the eyes.

"You deserve worse than this, Alison Dilaurentis. You're nothing but a no good slut and a bully. God, how did you ever think for one second anyone could possibly love you? You're used up. Broken. Everyone is better off with you gone."

Her words are sharp and full of venom. She gets dressed and takes one last disgusted look in the mirror before leaving. 

In the following weeks, Alison begins to spiral. She goes from bar to bar letting drunk guys buy her drink after drink, until there isn't a waking moment where she is sober. She just keeps telling herself that she deserves this.