"Leave me alone!" The sound of rushing feet echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the hard cherry wood floors. The hallway was illuminated yellow by the sconces that hung on the wall, but the light was swallowed by the dark flooring.

A single girl ran down the very end, ignoring the other footsteps that were steadily catching up to hers. She stretched for the golden knob attached to a white door, yanked it open, and slipped inside of the shadowy depths of her room before slamming it shut.

"Ally?! Ally?! Please, open the door, sweetie." Her mother's words were blurred out, a loud ringing buzzed through her eardrums as the rest of the world faded out. She could feel the doorknob rattling in her hands as her mother desperately tried to invade her room from the other side. She held on tightly, her hand losing its grip as the edges of her vision began blurring. With the lights still off, she could only see the white wooden door in front of her, but even the painted over wood grain began warp in her eyes. She only had a few seconds to make her mother go away.

"Open the door, Ally. Open the door." It was a constant mantra. Open, open, open. Well, maybe she didn't want that. Maybe she didn't want to be opened. She loathed how they watched over her, silently analyzing her every movement. Their stares were whip lashes, cutting through her flesh, opening her up for further examination. She didn't want to be looked at. Her body was marred and marked; a constant reminder of impurity. Why open up where everyone could see her bruised, broken, and more importantly hideous body and face?

"Open the –" A click was heard and the door handle refused to budge. Locked from the inside out. Trapped from the outside in. Her knees buckled and she finally collapsed, not bothering to turn on the light as she rested her side against the door. She rested her eyes, not yet ready to let down her defenses.

She heard steady footsteps as they approached her, as she lay against her door. She saw the shadows of two legs that joined her mother. Struggling to hold onto her reality, she pressed her ear against the wall, desperate to hear what her parents were discussing. The voices were whispered, but without any other noise in the house, it sounded almost clear through the doorway that separated them

"How'd it go this time, Penny?" She heard her father's exasperated sigh, as if he already knew the answer. She could already see the disappointed look on her father's face. She shrunk down, folding into herself.

"Same as last time, Lester." Her mother let out another sigh. A sharp pain stabbed her in her gut. She couldn't help but feel guilty. It was her fault; she was the cause of her parents' continuous worry. Wetness was being held prisoner in her tear ducts, forbidden to fall down her cheeks.

Distracted by her own guilt, she didn't hear the rest of what her parents were saying, but she was shocked back to alertness when she heard one of her parents rattling the knob, in a last hope that it would miraculously open.

"Ally?" She heard her father say, delicately. Not expecting a response, he continued. "Your mother and I are going to head to Sonic Boom for a while, but don't worry, we'll be back in about an hour or so. We love you." She heard their proceeding footsteps as they walked away. Still having her ear pressed against the wood, she could make out the rustling of jackets, heels clicking against the cherry wood, the closing of the door and a click of a lock.

Alone at last.

She was never sure whether to be relieved or frightened by their absence.

When they were at their house, it was empty words and condolences. Her father would try to tell lame jokes in order for her to crack a smile, and her mother, who returned from Africa to watch over her, would vocalize a fake laugh and show overly cheery smile. It had to be a boisterous laugh, and it had to be a big smile that would stretch her cheeks until they hurt. How else could they try to fix their daughter?

But when she was alone in the house, shadows roamed on the walls. Silhouettes of shattered dreams and a past life Ally could only wish she could forget. The words that he said plastered themselves in dark lettering against the walls, another lie, a different threat, and more criticism. The outline of degradation and humiliation stalked her footsteps as she padded barefoot, wandering through all the rooms in the house. Isolation became a familiarity to her, one that she was too eager to let go, yet too scared to give it away.

Submitting to the exhaustion her soul so desperately craved, she permitted the dark room to enter her body and swallow her whole.

And only then, did single teardrops trail down her face.

She heard it. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. They rushed through her head, slamming against her skull, begging to be let out. It lost its meaning. It no longer holds truth to the matter. They're all lies now. And she is no longer worthy of such lies.

"You're a great singer, Ally."

"You're so beautiful, Ally."

"I love your smile, Ally."

"You're so smart, Ally."

"Your eyes are so lovely, Ally."

"Your music is amazing, Ally."

"I love you, Ally."

Lies all lies. Lies that he told her, just to lure her into him. And she so foolishly fell for them.

If she was such a good singer, why couldn't she sing up on stage anymore?

If she was so beautiful, why did her stomach lurch whenever she looked in the mirror for too long?

If her smile was so nice, why did her grin never seemed to reach her eyes?

If she was so smart, why was she ridiculed relentlessly for it?

If her eyes were so lovely, why were they wide, sunken and dull, lifelessly staring at nothingness?

If her music was so amazing, why couldn't she make it in the business?

If she was so loved, why did she hate herself?

She woke up to pitch darkness, sprawled out on the floor. The rough carpeting scraped, raw, against the tissue of her face. An excruciating pounding in her head made itself present. Rocks were smashing against her meninges; ricocheting between it and her brain, causing acute agony to shoot through her skull and down her spinal cord. Though her closed eyes, she saw flashes of small lights. She wouldn't be too surprised if those were the millions of nerves in her head, bursting.

Deep breaths, Ally. You're not there anymore. You're here. In your room. Your safe and sound room. He didn't have carpets. It was always hard wood.

She ignored the fact that although he had wood, there were also rugs. She didn't need to remind herself. Heavy cement was rushing through her bloodstream, pulsing against her temples.

Just... just look.

Allowing the pain to subside, she lifted her head a few inches. Regret, regret, regret. Crippling torture poisoned her insides. Squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her, she rested her head down once again on the carpet, panting laboriously. Tears prickled at the corners, threatening to spill and follow the disloyal teardrops that had already dried on her cheeks. This was one of the worst times. Emotional turmoil would mingle and mix with actuality, leaving reminiscent of authentic pain.

Not this time, Ally. She scolded herself. Pain is weakness.

She opened her eyes. To nothing. A black hole void of matter and mass. Was it nighttime? Had she finally gone blind? Was her mind playing tricks on her? Disregarding the pain, she lifted her head once more, wincing slightly. Turning her head and looking around, she saw that it wasn't pitch darkness, she could still make out shapes of corners of furniture, and the painted white door stood tall in front of her nose. Only then did Ally notice the light that slipped underneath the doorway.

It was still daytime. Her parents left. The door was locked and the lights were off.

She brought herself to a sitting position, allowing her body to lean against the sturdy door. Taking in deep breaths, she turned her body around. grasping at the siding of the door, using the claw marks her nails had already indented into them; she hauled herself to a standing position. Dragging her hands across the paint, feeling the pores in wall, she found the light switch before turning it on.

A dim glow travelled across the room as an overhead light flicked on. It wasn't overly bright to cause her vision to go white, but it wasn't so shaded that she couldn't see. Shadows blurred with light, there no longer were sharp and distinct profiles of furniture. The edges were faded, unknowing to where the darkness stopped, and the light began. She scanned her ordinary bedroom setting. A bed on one side, a desk and chair on the other, a vanity which she never used anymore, a dresser, one side table with a lamp with no bulb, and a worn out, old keyboard and music stand, tucked away in the corner collecting dust from misuse and neglect.

She set her eyes on her goal. The single bathroom attachment. With the light switch on, the doorway only looked like a rectangular dark hole. She padded barefoot, slowly reaching closer and close to the cave, waiting for twilight to devour her. Shadows like these were all too familiar, alluring her into their clutches before they snatched her in. Darkness would surround her vision 360° degrees, the light seemingly miles away; much too far to get back.

Standing right in front of the open door, her back warmed by the sun, her front chilled by the moon, she struggled against the pull of the shadows hands. His hands grasped at her forearms, digging in his nails to tear soft flesh, leaving meaty finger indentations that would later bruise over into blue and purple. She stuck one arm in, offering more than fifty percent of her body into the shadows. Hands seized the opportunity at a full arm and grabbed it with a vice like grip.

She quickly searched for the light switch once again, and turned it on. The hands and body withdrew into small crooks, too weak to try to hold onto her. She made her way to the center of the room, underneath the light overhead. She relieved herself before heading to the sink. She looked at the soap dispenser as she washed and dried her hands, she kept her eyes cast downward as she opened all of the mirror cabinets. Looking through the three pill bottles, she grabbed one for her headache.

Empty.

Her mother had emptied out all of the bottles, leaving only the amount for a single dosage. If she wanted more, she had to go ask for more. Her mother kept the rest of them under lock and key. She was going to ask her mother to put in two more. But that's when the questions started. Then she looked at the first aid kit, but knew it was fruitless. No pills would be in there. Her mother had stored in a store-bought first aid kit. Once, when she was bored, not wanting to read the walls anymore, but not yet ready to go out, she read the back of the kit, checking if everything that it listed was in there. Gauze pads, check. Band aids, check. Gauze roller bandage, check. Disinfectant wipes, check. Scissors, not check. Tweezers, check. Gloves, check. Adhesive tape, check. Splint, check. Resuscitation bag, check. Directions for requesting emergency assistance, check.

She wasn't surprised that they took out the scissors. She honestly thought that her mother and father should be a bit more discrete about showing what they thought about their daughters' mental stability. She hated being treated like a child and a suicidée.

She made her way over to her bed, shards of her headache still reminiscent. She sat on her bed and shut her eyes. Not tired, but not wanting to see the words written on the wall in front of her.

Soft knocks broke her out of her dazed state. She opened her eyes and looked around to room, wondering if something had landed on the carpet, or maybe it was just the sounds the house made. A few more knocks brought her attention to her white wooden door.

"Ally?" She heard her mother asked, gently, on the other side. She hesitated moving from her spot on the bed. She was already comfortable as the comfortable dipped at her body weight, partially warm from sitting there for a while.

"Ally? Could you open the door? I have some – t-thing to tell you" Her mother persisted. Ally, already accustomed to listening to others talk, noticed the faint stutter, between the words 'some' and 'thing'. She exhaled slowly, getting ready to move from her spot. Her mother left her alone like she asked and gave her time to herself. The least she could do was open the door and acknowledge what she had to say.

She could hear the bed as its groaned when she moved, disturbing its balance she had set. She moved towards the door. She stood in front of the door, trying to regulate her breathing once again. Without looking, she unlocked the door, the click was the only sound other than the sound of her breathing. She stood, waiting at the door once more. She knew her mother wouldn't try to open the door, they had already established a mutual, yet unsaid agreement, that she would be the one who opens the door.

Twisting the knob, but not opening it, she took in a deep breath before she opened the door all the way. She was greeted by her mother, her hands folded in front of her with an overly enthusiastic smile on her face. Next to her stood a smiling tall teenage boy. He was taller than her mother, had blond hair and was wearing a plain white t-shirt, sunglasses which hung from the v-neck and blue denim jeans. In the back she noticed a beaming tall redheaded teenage boy, taller than the blond, wearing checkered pants with the suspenders hanging, a t-shirt with an image of a clip art ham over a patterned dress shirt.

"Ally, I'd like to meet Austin and his best friend, Dez." Her mother said with a smile on her face. At the mention of his name, Dez raised his hand and waved happily from behind the two.

A glance, a frown, and the reverberating slam of the white door was the only answer to her mother's introduction. Her mother's smile dropped from her face, and Dez still waved to the closed, white, wood door.

"Well, that went well." Austin said facetiously, his smile just a bit unsure and confused.

Dez stepped forward and placed one of his hands on his friends shoulder, a cheeky grin still emanate on his face, regardless of the short brown haired girl's blatant rejection. "I think she likes us."

This was actually written by my friend, "Red Compassion, Red Love, Red Hate" on the Austin & Ally Wiki... So... Go check them out. Red suggests you listen to Skyscraper by Demi Lovato to get a sense of Ally's feelings in this chapter.

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