in which she swims to forget all the pain, but he sees it all because dallas edlen is not ok and, having loved her for years, seeing that was no task.
ONE BREATH
MINIMINTER
SIDEMEN
DEATHLIES 2016
[COMPLETED]
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THIRTEEN d a l l a s
Eleven o'clock at night, the rain was hitting the window with ferocity and tremor that only the dismal months could bring. It begged for entrance into the warmth of the home. To bask beside the fire would be an honour, to lie beneath the blanket would be an honour.
Dallas was wide awake. More than wide awake with her eyes trained on the rain as her own downpour escaped her infinite eyes.
Her phone lay on the ground, smashed from the force she'd thrown it at the wall. The paint was chipped, but the intention of repair was not there.
Dragging a hand through her hair, Dallas chokes back a sob and swallows her tears back for the sound of her mother stomping up the stairs echoed through the house like warning bells. And the sudden anger at the sound of a laugh down the hall was more than enough.
Dallas snapped and took the impulse by both hands as she stormed through the door in a whirlwind to confront her mother with all she'd been holding back.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Dallas hisses, her throat burning as if she'd downed a test tube of acid. Oh, how she would love to have that option because to be dead would be release. To be dead would mean no more burdens, no more purposes and no more responsibilities. If you're useless when you're dead, so be it.
"Don't take that attitude with me, young woman!" Mum shouts back and begins storming down the corridor towards her.
Dallas forgets the fear and speaks her mind, nothing withheld. "Why didn't you tell me that you and dad were getting divorced? Did you not think that it was necessary to do so? Why did it take for him to call me from LA for me to find out?"
"Dallas, stop! I was going to tell you, but I didn't think you needed to know!" She tries to shout, but Dallas isn't done. She would never be done, it seemed, there was too much that needed to be said.
"Didn't think I needed to know? Mum, do you have any idea how relevant it is to my life?" Her voice rises louder and louder until it's bouncing off the walls around them like shock waves. Impacting, crushing, twisting. "Mum, I'm not ok." Her voice cracks. "But you don't give a fuck, do you? You're too busy drinking away the dilemmas, as if that will solve anything, and sleeping with other men. No wonder dad wants to divorce you; all you do is drag him down!"
Now Mum is close. Her hand snatches out like a claw, clamping around Dallas' wrist and squeezing tightly as she spits, "You don't have any idea what I'm going through. You're a child, Dallas, a child! You're clueless and if this is the way you carry yourself, you'll be clueless forever."
Dallas winces as the grip tightens, trying to pull her arm away. "I'm sick of you, I'm sick of this, I'm sick of everything!" She shouts, tears pouring down her face.
The clap of Mum's free hand smacking against her cheek, the impact of the rings and the impact on the heart itself silences her.
"Never speak to me like that again, do you understand me?" Mum hisses through clenched teeth. She yanks Dallas towards her by her vice like grip. "Do you understand me?" She repeats.
"Yes," Dallas replies meekly, crumpling to the floor as she is released. Her body shaking with sobs as she sinks against the wall, blood speckling to the surface as agonised freckles and reminding blemishes.
Mum stomps off down the corridor, slamming her door behind her leaving her only remaining child to cry against the cold wall. Crying her heart out, losing herself and not knowing how on earth to reclaim herself.
Dallas Edlen was more than not ok, she was lost and had no idea where to even begin trying to rediscover her entire being.
-
It was one o'clock and the only point Dallas had on her list of rediscovery was two words. A beginning. A name:
Simon Minter.
She'd been staring at the paper for an hour now, but nothing else came to mind. Perhaps directing herself to her past where the happiness thrived like flowers in the midst of summer was the route to safety.
So she took her paper, folded it up and shoved it into the pocket of her raincoat.
Pausing for a moment to call, she dials his number and holds the cold phone against her bruised cheek.
"Hello?" She hears, music to her ears.
"Simon," She breathes, the words alike to silk. "I'm sorry for waking you up, but there's something important I need to say to you."
"Yes?" His voice is groggy and he sounds impatient, but Dallas didn't care one bit. It was just good to know he was on the other side of the phone because it meant he cared about her.
"I can't say it over the phone. It's not right. Maybe I should come over?"
"Dallas, as much as I want to say yes, it's one in the morning."
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's ok, but I have a game tomorrow and I really have to sleep. I promise you we can talk tomorrow though, yeah? Come and find me."
"Ok, I will," She says, trying not to sound too disappointed. "Good luck in the match."
"Thank you," He replies. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Hopefully."
She hangs up the landline and trudges back to her room to sleep until the sun flew the flag of light, the signal to try again.
