It's Never Greener on the Other Side

Prologue

Sometimes when reality hits you, it knocks you off your feet. For some people reality never really bothered them. For others it completely changed them. Take my friend Dallas Winston for example. Reality really messed him up. It messed him up bad. Sometimes I blame myself for the way he changed. Other times I blame his family. Especially his dad. Yeah, I really blame his dad. But every blue moon I wonder, was it anyone's fault the way things happened? And if it wasn't, could we have stopped it?

Well, we'll never know, will we?

Chapter One: Would You Believe Me?

I rolled over on my bed and looked at my clock. Two fifty-nine. Who in the hell was knocking on my window at two fifty-nine in the morning? I sat up in the bed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I looked across the room at my window and saw someone standing outside. I sighed and got out of the bed. I walked over to the window and opened the curtains. It was my stupid boyfriend. He was bouncing around the window, blowing his breath in his hands. When he saw me looking out of the window, he pointed at the window and mouthed the words "Open the window." I barely cracked the window.

"What do you want Dallas," I asked him. He gave me a look.

"What do you think I want? Let me in, it's fucking cold out here," he said. I sighed again and opened the window all the way. Dally climbed in and walked straight to my bed and sat down. I closed the window and turned to him, with my arms folded across my chest.

"What are you doing here, Dall," I asked him. Dally stretched out on my bed and shrugged.

"I felt like getting out," he lied. I put my hands on my hips and gave him a look.

"At three o'clock in the morning?" I knew Dally was lying. Something was bothering him. He looked at me for a minute, thinking about whether or not he should tell me the truth.

"I couldn't sleep," he finally said. "Mom's yelling at Dad for coming home late again."

I uncrossed my arms and walked over to my bed. I looked down at him, at his face. He looked tired. I felt bad for giving him a hard time. I should've known it was his parents at it again. If they weren't fighting each other, they were fighting with Dally. I hated that. Dally was such a great person, but it didn't help when his parents were being assholes towards him. I smile at him and ruffled his hair.

"Scoot over," I said, climbing in the bed next to him. He put his arms around me and I put my face in his chest. He smelt nice. I closed my eyes and sunk into the bed in Dally's arms. We lay there in silence for a while. I felt Dally's soft breath blow on the top of my head.

"Ally?" Dally whispered my name.

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever think about what you'll be doing in the next five years?" I laughed softly to myself. That was a good question. Where did I see myself in the next five years? I never thought about that. I've always just thought about the here and now and nothing more.

"No," I told him.

"I have," he said, pulling me closer to him. "I want to be married with two kids. I want to have a good job so I can support my family, but I'll come home...on time..."

Dally's voice was soft and dreamy-like. I got the feeling he was talking more to himself than to me.

What if I told you that Dally was a dreamer? Would you believe me? What if I told you that Dally asked me to watch a sunset with him? What if I told you Dally used to believe in this world and that people could change for the better. What if I told you Dally could care and love just as much as the next person. What if I told you Dally loved his parents right 'til the very end...would you believe me?

When I woke up later that morning, Dally wasn't in the bed or the room. But I heard voices down the hall so I knew he was somewhere in the house talking to my grandma. I frowned and got out of bed.

My grandma and Dally were like mother and son. They got along so well, which is more that I can say for me, cause I don't get along with my grandma at all. Now don't get me wrong cause I love her to death. But she can get kind of annoying sometimes...actually all the time. Dally says she's just lonely and needs someone to talk to. I told him I didn't have time to sit and talk to my grandma. Obviously Dally did, cause they talk all the time about everything.

I went to my closet and stood in the doorway, thinking about what to wear. I finally decided on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that said, If you want some...Come get some! It was one of my favorite shirts. My grandma doesn't like it, she said it made me seem like a tomb-boy.

I opened my room door after getting dressed, and the voices of Dally and my grandma got louder.

"...and that's when she told me I needed help," Grandma was saying as I walked into the kitchen. I stood, leaning against the wall as they noticed me and fell silent.

"Well good morning to you too," I said to the both of them. Dally blushed slightly. I knew they had to have been talking about me, by the guilty look on Dally's face.

"Good morning, sweetheart," my grandma said, patting the seat next to her. "Come have some breakfast." I sat down next to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"What did I tell you about calling me sweetheart, grandma? I'm not a little girl anymore." I grabbed two pancakes and began putting eggs on top off them.

"Alesia honey why do you have to wear that horrible shirt," she said, ignoring my question and tugging at my shirt.

"I like this shirt grandma," I said, sighing. "How come you don't get on to Dally about his shirt?" Dally's shirt had a midget on it that was holding his crouch and saying, "Size doesn't matter if you know what you're doing."

"Actually I think Dally's shirt is kind of cute," my grandma said. I gave her a weird look. She continued. "That little boy is so brave not to let his size bother him."

Dally and I laughed. My grandma could be so naive sometimes. I looked at Dally. He still looked tired.

"Did you not get any sleep last night," I asked him. Dally blushed again. I knew something was wrong. Dally has never in his life blushed twice in one day...no matter what.

"I got a little bit of sleep," he said looking down at the empty plate in front of him.

"Now Dally, don't lie," my grandma said to him, then she turned to me. "He didn't get much. He said that you were having a nightmare and you were keeping him up."

I looked at Dally. He was still looking at his plate.

"How come you didn't wake me," I asked him. Dally looked at me.

"I didn't want to wake you," he said.

"Dally said you were having a dream about your parents and your sister," my grandma told me.

It was my turn to look down at my plate. I didn't even remember having a nightmare, but then again I hardly ever remember. But I knew Dally wasn't lying. No one knows about my nightmare that I have about my parents and my sister. I didn't have these nightmares very often, but when I do I never remember them. They started after my parents and older sister died in a house fire when I was twelve. I was the only one who survived that night. That's when I moved in with my grandma. At first before the nightmares started happening, I was afraid to go to sleep, for fear that if I did there would be another fire and I wouldn't be able to save my grandma. Then my grandma took me to the doctor and they put me on medication to help me sleep. And that's when I started having those nightmares

"How come you didn't tell Dally about your dreams sweetheart?" I looked at my grandma. She had no idea how hard it was to have these dreams. And then to tell someone else about it, like it was nothing?

"It's no one's business what I dream about, grandma." I said coldly. I got up from the table. I suddenly didn't feel like eating.

I stalked back to my room and slammed the door behind me. I threw myself on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I hated having those dreams, especially now that Dally knows. I wished there was some way I could forget about that night, that way the dreams wouldn't be so real. I used to tell my Grandma that I wish I could forget. But she would just laugh, give me a huge hug and tell me if I didn't remember, I would only drive myself crazy trying to remember. Which was true, of course, but at least I wouldn't have to relive it every time I had a dream.

There was a knock at the door.It was Dally, but I didn't feel like seeing him.

"Go away Dally."

"Come on, Al, let me in."

Al. My father used to call me that. My mother and everyone else would call me Ally. Mom would fuss at dad for calling me Al. "Al is a boy's nickname, Jeff. And no daughter of mine is gone walk around here with a name like Al," she would say. Dad would always argue back saying it didn't matter if Al was a boy's name, I didn't look like a boy, so he was pretty sure no one would make a mistake of thinking that.

I turned over on my side to face the wall.

"Come in," I sighed. Dally came in and sat on the bed next to me.

"I'm sorry I didn't wake you up. You kind of stopped crying when I woke up anyway, so I didn't think I had to," Dally apologized to me. I felt bad that Dally thought it was his fault. I shouldn't have gotten upset at him, he gets enough of that when he's at home.

"It's not your fault, Dall," I said. "I just didn't know I was still having those dreams, well not that I was remembering them in the first place."

"How come you didn't tell me about your dreams?"

"Don't even like having them so why would I talk about them?"

"You talk about everything else," Dally said. I wanted to slap him. But it was the truth. I did talk about everything else, especially if it bothered me. It just didn't dawn on me to tell Dally about my dreams.

"I don't know, Dall," I sighed. "I just hate to even think about that night, let alone dream about it." Dally grabbed me into a big hug and held me there.

"You still should have told me," he said and then kissed me on top of my forehead. I reached around his waist and hugged him back.

I loved Dally and everything about him. It was his father I ended up hating. He's the one that changed Dally. He's the one that turned Dally into the cold hearted person that people loved to hate.