Blood and darkness….Then there was a dark figure looming over a body with a butcher knife in his hand and then there was a scream and suddenly, the world was crumbling. Then, she was running. She saw everything, but she was a coward; she was running away. But no matter how bad she wanted to stay, she was being chased by the dark figure into the same alley, where she had earlier chased him into. Unfortunately, this time there was a dead end and she watched helplessly as the knife was lowered onto her.
She bolted upright with a jerk, shouting loudly, her hands in her hair and her cheeks wet with salty tears. That was how Ally's day started, with a NIGHTMARE! Ally wrapped her hands over her knees and backing up against the wall, she cried. She closed her eyes shut, as sobs left her mouth. She was too preoccupied to notice the new room she was in.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, but she didn't move.
"Ally?" a voice questioned.
She didn't respond.
Knowing that she wasn't in a very stable state, the owner of the voice walked closer to her and just like the previous night, pulled her into a hug.
This time, though, she didn't fight it. She let him soothe her. Ally was scared and vulnerable, though she hated it, she finally let herself admit it and took comfort in the person who hugged her.
"Thanks Austin," she whispered.
"Nightmare?" he asked and once he saw her nod slowly, he adjusted her into a comfortable position, pulling her head into his lap and slowly brushing her hair with his fingers.
"Want to talk about it?" he asked.
"Not yet," came her timid response.
He hummed in response, while they stayed in silence.
He observed her face. Those tear-stained cheeks that looked bizarrely tired; those round doe eyes looked droopy and her usually perfect brown hair was still a matted mess. But this time it looked messier.
He studied her breathing pattern and on finally feeling it get steady, he moved her delicately, before getting up to leave. But, something stopped him. A small hand on his wrist was this something to be exact.
"Please stay," she whispered and she sounded so sad that he wanted to wipe away all her worries for life.
Settling himself next to her in bed, Austin reached out to wrap his arms around her. He realized how from even the slightest notion of touch, she tensed.
He figured that whatever happened to her was horrible if she was reacting that way.
Slowly, though, she adjusted herself to him and cuddled into his touch like a child snuggles into her blanket. The warmth and security put her to sleep and this time, there were no nightmares.
The next time Ally opened her eyes was not due to a nightmare, but because of the sunlight streaming through the windows, directly hitting her face. Rubbing her eyes, she got up and looked at the room she was in. It looked very unfamiliar.
This was the place Austin was planning to take me to! She thought. The accent wall was a vibrant shade of indigo, while the other walls held posters of bands and singers. On one of the walls hung, a magnificent Fender Stratocaster, like the guitar she had at home.
Home...her heart sank. She didn't know if she would she ever recover from the shock of the murder.
But, suddenly she recalled her nightmare and her fear clenched her heart. She looked around wondering where Austin was, she didn't find him but she did find a blue clock on the table beside the bed. It was almost 12 and Ally never slept later than 10!
In a haste, she pushed off the blanket and ran out the room and down the stairs, following her instincts. Once she reached the base of the staircase, she looked around at what looked like the living room and wandered off to a kitchen counter.
"Morning," she heard behind her.
She jumped a mile away, holding her breath, which she only released on seeing the mop of familiar blonde hair.
"Good morning," she replied, still wary from sleep.
"Actually, good afternoon, I never took you as a late sleeper," he teased.
"Hey!" she protested, "I don't usually sleep in. I am supposed to be a goody-two-shoes for heaven's sake!"
He laughed.
"Where did you go by the way?" she asked.
He looked at her amused, "What? Missed me?"
She looked down, turning red slightly, but that didn't stop her from firing back, "Well, can you blame me for thinking that I got kidnapped?"
His smile died down, "Ya, more like 'psychonapped'" he grumbled, but she heard anyway and glared at him.
"Can I use the washroom?" she asked timidly.
"Yes sure, up the stairs, second door on the right, I left all the things you need in there," he instructed as he grabbed the newspaper from the front porch.
She nodded and walked up, but turned back and said, "Thanks, Austin. Thanks for everything."
Then she ran up the stairs and into the bathroom.
Ally stared at her face in the mirror. She looked pale. Her eyes that usually sparked with curiosity looked devoid of emotions. Not to forget the bruises and scars on her face.
She looked at the gnash on her forehead that was now dry. She presumed that Austin had applied antiseptic, while she was asleep. At that moment, she was truly grateful to have the blonde-head in her life.
Taking a quick shower, scrubbing away those memories and changing into the plain blue T-shirt and sweatpants, Austin left her, Ally climbed down the stairs to thank him for everything.
But, the sight she witnessed was not what she had in mind.
Austin was sitting on the couch, his eyes wide in fear. He was clutching a paper in his hand, very tightly. He seemed to be staring off into space. The second her eyes fell on him, she felt the room freeze. She could sense something was wrong.
Ally decided to make her presence known, by clearing her throat. He didn't move a muscle.
She went closer and snapped her fingers at him. "Austin," she called out cautiously.
This time however, he blinked.
"You murdered your dad!" he yelled.
I shook my head vigorously.
He threw the paper on the coffee table and that's when the headline came into my view.
'Daughter kills father for assets and flees'
The second she saw that, she looked up at Austin. He was pacing back and forth, his hands in his hair. He was muttering something along the lines of, 'I can't believe I helped a murderer.'
Ally, on the other hand, clutched the newspaper between her fingers and glanced back at the article to continue reading.
At around 2:00 am this morning, Lester Dawson, the influential businessman and owner of BOOM Groups was found dead in his house in Street 36, Furrow Lane. It was reported that around 1:00 am, the Somerfield family, living nearby heard a scream and called the police to report it. They claimed to have seen the deceased's daughter, Ally Dawson, running out of the house, leaving the front door open. The cause of death was being stabbed with a butcher knife. The police examined the butcher knife to retrieve the fingerprints of the accused. Further analysis and the fact that Lester Dawson left all of his assets under the name of his daughter, points to the fact that the girl had, in fact, killed her father. Ally Dawson, on the other hand, seems to be missing. She was last spotted, in public at a party hosted by film-maker, Jace Dillion, where her best friend, Patricia Dela Rosa claimed to have received a message from her that she was returning home at around 12. Though she also firmly stated that Ally was her best friend and would never do something like that. But what can we say? She is probably the only one with a motive to kill him and considering that she is in hiding, Ally has been confirmed as the culprit. The police are searching for her and she will be jailed immediately, without trial.
At this point, she was hyperventilating. Ally couldn't breathe, she was panicking. No one will believe her now. She will go to jail and her life would be officially over.
Ally let out a breath desperately, she couldn't live with the guilt any longer. She needed relief. She needed to escape this pain.
Almost immediately, she jumped out of the couch, wiping her flowing tears with the back of her hand and ran to the room, which looked like the kitchen. There in the corner she spotted a butcher knife, the same kind that had killed her father. She stared at it to confirm if this was what she had decided.
Ally hadn't touched an instrument of self-harm since she turned seventeen. She had resorted to self-harm and attempted suicide twice, when her mother left her. That is why she hated vulnerability. She didn't shed a tear when she left, but almost immediately, she was declared depressed and given pills upon pills.
It has been almost six years since she has recovered.
Six years since that traumatising incident.
Six years since she promised herself to stay strong.
She had never been suicidal in the past six years, even though she had plenty of opportunities, and back then, her dad helped her through it, but at this point, everything was out of hand.
The knife, as she observed, was shimmering in the low kitchen light.
No one would believe her. Not even, Austin- her frenemy.
She was being accused of murder.
She needed to escape this.
At that moment, the knife seemed to be taunting her emotions and forgetting her promise, she let the tool down to her exposed wrist.