✰𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝✰- 𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧

✰𝟐𝟒. 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐲

✰𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞

✰𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢'𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐯:✰

Dally's week in the hospital had passed, and we were both eager to get out of that building. We both felt as if we were large dogs filled with lots of energy trapped in a small kennel. Especially having gotten together as boyfriend and girlfriend officially just a day into his stay.

I didn't like seeing Dally in the hospital in general and I knew he hated it more than I did. He would rip out every needle the nurses stuck in him, making points like, "Why do I need a needle in my arm when the gunshot is in my leg?" The nurses would roll their eyes back as far as they would go and shove their nursing degrees in Dally's face as he blew smoke from his forbidden cigarettes in theirs. It was a tense sight, and I sort of felt like a single mother that tried her best accompanied by a awful little boy.

Dally's childish antics didn't bother me too much, but I still felt embarrassed watching the scene as I sat in a chair in the corner scratching up my hands. I wondered if Dally would be ok with holding my hand with the state of them. The nurses would look over at me and I would shrug and mouth a sorry, I couldn't control his actions or my hearts love for him. Dally had a true mind of his own and my heart only grew for him more and more by the day. I had deeply fallen for every part of Dally, even his flaws.

Dally never wore his hospital gown and refused to sit in the wheelchair unless I pushed it instead of the nurses. He would protest until the nurses would beg me to push it, I always agreed and it felt like the same scene a month ago with the roles switched every time. It was like I couldn't escape that time of my life.

I didn't mind pushing Dally, I felt like it was the least I could do to repay him for his month of care. He would never let me do the same for him and I knew it, but I still thanked him for his actions, for if he hadn't of helped me I probably would've rotted in the hospital on a death bed of medical bills, alone. How sour the truth was.

Dally was like a bird in a cage, except the bird would accept its fate eventually and stop chirping and flapping its clipped wings, and Dally would never accept his new reality. He would chew the wires out for his freedom, breaking anything he had to so he could be free. And if he wasn't able to become free he would surely die trying.

It made me wonder how he ever stood up to jail, the place where they take everything from you and truly trap you behind bars that aren't figurative one bit. Jail strips you from all of your freedom and treats you genuinely like an animal as punishment, how did he take it? I guess that was why he put on a fake face and got let out early for good behavior almost every time. His chosen freedom from the laws just trapped him further later on, but he knew that, and he lived with the consequences of his actions in a loop.

I wanted to ask him a lot about jail. He had told me small details about the uniforms and the food and the people and the showers and the cells, but I wanted to envision my mothers life in there. It wouldn't be the same, since she is a woman and Dally is a man, but I still wanted a small idea of what she did every day.

I wanted to know if she was happier now, she probably wasn't, but she was away from me and that was something she always wanted since the day that she had found out she was pregnant. She made that known to me and anyone and everyone. I deeply despised the story of how she found out she was pregnant. It made me feel so physically sick that I threw up the first time she told me, she made it sound like a true horror movie, and a horror movie is always worse when it's a true story and you're one of the characters somehow.

The eternal guilt that my mother granted me with would always lie within me. Maybe I did hate her, but she always made it seem like I had no reason to hate her, and that she had every reason to hate me. How can you look at a baby and feel pure hatred? Even people that don't like children just feel discomfort, not pure cold hatred.