Her voice...
She's on the other line, waiting for my response...
But she sounds like she's crying..
"Ally?"
"Yeah, who the fuck is this?"
"Ally, what's wrong?"
"Who the fuck is this?!"
"Sorry, it's okay, it's Anthony.."
The call disconnects.
I pull on a pair of pants and a shirt in a mismatched rush. I try my hardest to force my feet into shoes that all of a sudden feel two sizes too small, my heart beating out of my chest.
She must be home.
She wasn't allowed to have her phone when she was being treated in the hospital.
She must be home.
My mind repeats that as my feet hit the pavement, running a familiar path to her house.
I jump up to the branch of the tree near her window, scraping my hands a bit on the bark, but I feel nothing. Curtains are pulled over her windows, so I knock quietly.
The little bit of noise that had been coming from inside stops.
She's right there. The only thing between us is a pane of glass. I could punch right through it and she would be there, she would be in my arms...
But the curtain never gets drawn aside. The light in her room is still on. I knock again. I knock harder. I call her name. It must have been a half hour by now. I can't stand the idea of not seeing her, especially now that I know she's there.
Slowly, just as I'm about to give up hope, the very edge of the curtain is pulled away, revealing only half of her face.
Her eye is bloodshot, a bit of black makeup smudged beneath it, her lips small and pink.
She slowly unlatched the window, hands clearly trembling, her breathing shaky.
"What do you want?"
"I wanted to see you."
"You've already seen me."
"What? What do you mean?"
"Today. At the paint store."
"Ally.. I'm sorry."
"What do you want?"
"I want...us, Ally. I want you."
YOU ARE READING
Sinking Through the Cracks
RomanceAlly has never had friends. Ally has never had parents who really cared for her. Ally has never had a peaceful day at school. She is anorexic, though she has never had it treated. She has horrible times of depression though she always just puts...
