Adam & I

Chapter Eight

Allison’s P.O.V

“Ally! Pass the ball to me using the side of your foot,” My dad instructed me as he tried teaching me how to kick a soccer ball.

Upon kicking the ball for the 100th time, my dad finally jumped so high in approval and clapped his hands for me. We ran to each other and he held me up high, spinning me around like a helicopter. Our laughter echoed and our lips curved into smiles. Just then my father came to a halt, many men came into view. His hands gripped my arms once he placed me down, and the men came closer and closer. Our smiles faded. He pulled me behind him, and then they forcefully separated us, with me falling on one side and my father on the other. They held me back whilst I screamed loudly as I watched them beat up my father into a pulp.

“DAD! No! Stop it please.” I sobbed loudly as they escaped with my father leaving me all alone on the soccer field.

They viciously threw him into the car and sped off, only to hit another car in the process. It began to rain violently, and my knees could no longer hold my weight. My vision blurred and I could no longer see. My throat swelled and I could no longer speak. My father died and I am no longer myself.

“Ally, it’s okay. I’m here.” Firm hands gripped my shoulders waking me from my uncomfortable slumber.

“Brent.” I sobbed uncontrollably and hated my self tremendously for my emotional breakdowns.

My brother stayed there, as usual, comforting me until my breathing returned to its normal pace. Images of my father passing away in a car accident always seemed to come back and haunt me while I am in deep sleep. However, each dream occurs differently, which frightens me for I witnessed my father’s actual death. It involved a few not-so-good men just like I picture them, but he ended up in a car accident on the way back from work. Unfortunately, I saw that while I was hanging out with Ryan- my ex, and things didn’t end so well. And my constant train of thoughts are like a really heavy anchor, pulling me deeper and deeper into the ocean where I constantly feel as though I am drowning. There is no escape and I always seem to forget how to swim. Yet something always grips tightly onto my hands, and pulls me up. Someone. And I fear that he will abandon me like the other lifesavers. But then there’s this constant feeling that tells me that Brent will never go and that some day I will swim up alone until the light gracefully welcomes me.

**

After Brent made sure I was fine he went to his room and I stayed up till sunrise drawing images of my father. While I was in deep thought, my hand freely moved and my pencil willingly followed. I stared at my blank paper and watched as a curved line went for a walk. I drew and it took me long enough to realise that I haven’t sketched my father and I when in fact a different male figure stared into my eyes. His green-mesmerising eyes, his perfect jawline and that smirk instantly lightened up my mood. He was wearing the same blue shirt he wore last night, and those black jeans complimented them perfectly. Adam Benson is truly a figure that can make an extraordinary art piece, not anything he needs to know anyway. I smiled at myself as I thought about last night unsure of how exactly I was feeling.

Putting my art stuff away, I decided that I’d go for a run to keep my mind off things- especially my mother. I put on my black tights, my free runs and my jumper. I tucked a $10 note into my bra, clipped my iPod onto my clothing and then made my way outside as discretely and quietly as possible. Opening the door, the wind hit me hard in my face instantly sending shivers down my spine. Blocking out the world, I raised the volume and allowed the beats to drown my monstrous thoughts. It was a cold morning the grass was damp, the breeze was icy, and the ground was wet. Despite the weather, I allowed my feet to carry me wherever they willed to go, as fast they wanted to.