Darling she's not immortal
[Of course, Dash only wanted the best for Alana. But what did Alana want from Dash?]
"…Her veiny hands and sides are from the number of times she's punished herself…"
"Dash, can I stay at your house tonight?" Miss Alana asked me.
We sat across from each other in the window of her parent's small coffee shop. We shared a strawberry- kiwi milk shake, and took turns sipping out of our own personal straws.
I gulped my share of the shake, "What about your sister? She'll go ape nuts with out you!"
Alana's white hair shone in the sunlight, I was blinded with complete beauty. Her blue eyes gazed into mine, "Dash, Dash, Dash… you don't understand."
Her eyes grew sad, her beauty faded into grey skies. I reached my right hand out to hers, "If you must."
At this time, my emotions were strong for her and I would do anything for her. Although, when I imagined my hands running down each and every curve; her laughing and kissing my nose, I got a little carried away.
She smiled, tilting her head to the left.
We walked back to my house where I lived with my mother, Anne. My mother adored Alana's company; it was like she couldn't get enough of her. Our walk from the coffee shop was about fifteen minutes to my house and almost every time we made our walk an epic adventure… well… I did. My goal was to take her hand in mine, and never let go. But she was pretty up tight about the "we're only friends, Dash" so I was always shut down by the time we got to my drive way.
"Alana, your daddy called, he wants to know why a fifteen-year-old would be out with my son this late at night." My mother hollered from the front patio holding onto the telephone.
"Anne, I'm staying for the weekend." Alana grabbed my hands, yanking on me she ran backwards as I kept us stable; not running into anything.
Randomly, I wisped her into my arms and ran up the rest of the drive way. She groaned a little, her eyes pounding nasty thoughts into my head. Once I reached the stairs, I put the damsel-in-distress back onto her royal feet.
"Why, thank-you kind sir!" She kissed my hand and pranced into the house.
Stunned, I stopped where I was and gathered my emotions and walked on.
"We're having linguini for dinner, Dash." My mother wore an apron with caked bread and cake batters on it while she held a wooden spoon in her free hand.
--
"Your mother is a great cook, Dash." Alana pressed her knees up against her chest while she sat on the cot I made up for her.
I nodded in agreement. Hurrying about the guest bedroom, I closed the curtains and headed for the lamp on the bedside table, "If you need me Alana, I'm in the next room." I told her.
Alana was an independent, strong fifteen-year-old. I never knew what went on in her house hold but by the way she dressed and the way she acted so insecure had me thinking that she was abused of some sort. By whom, I wouldn't entirely know for sure. Of course, I had my suspicions.
I closed the door behind me and trailed off to my room.
"Dash," I stopped a foot away from my door, "Can you please come here."
I followed my mother's voice down stairs where she sat in front of the television set knitting a blanket.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Alanyss is on her way here, she has insisted on talking to you." My mother sounded slightly irate with this.
What could the evil twin possibly want from me? I sat down beside my mother; she looked up at me and shrugged. Unsure of what to do, I got up again and walked over to the bay window to wait for Alanyss's arrival.
"It is 10:00 PM Dash, I don't need the Immortal Twin's to get physical on my patio again." My mother's voice followed my foot steps.
Sighing, I watched Alanyss hop over the gate onto the patio, "Yes, I know mother."
The knock on the door seemed quieter then usual. I opened the door leaving the screen door close, on the other side Alanyss waited for me.
"Aren't you goin' to lemme me in, Dash?" Alanyss blew a big bubble with her bubble gum, "I don't have all night and I thought because my sister wasn't home I could talk to you now."
At that moment I came to the conclusion that I was afraid of Alanyss. She seriously intimidated me. She doesn't know Alana is here. Relieved I finally greeted Alanyss properly and sat her down at the kitchen table.
"Dash, would you like me to put some tea on?" My mother entered the kitchen.
"Anne," Alanyss stood up from her seat and hugged my mother, "I would loooove some tea, please and thank-you. And after that would you like to sit down as well?"
My mother looked surprise and a bit worried that Alanyss would hug her. But again, I saw Alanyss as a suck up and getting what ever she pleases when she does so.
"You've often wondered just what goes on inside my house…haven't you?" Alanyss asked.
You're the culprit. I convinced myself.
"She's not well and what she's going through is quite normal according to the female-teen-race. No body touches anyone in my house and what ever my sister has told you, is a lie." Alanyss finished her tea and looked down at the floor.
My mother and I looked at each other. I wasn't sure how to take that. I wasn't even sure of what she meant by female-teen-race and how that would have anything to do with her abuse. As for my mother, she looked as if she'd seen a ghost. The horror across her face told a different story.
Alanyss kissed my mother's cheek, "I should go."
I stopped in dead tracks, everything that Alanyss had just said came together. WAIT! I thought!
I slammed open the screen door, scanning my drive way for Alanyss, "ALANYSS, WAIT!" I called out to her.
Running as fast as I could, Alanyss stopped walking and waited patiently.
"What is it?" She patted my back as I leaned forward to ketch my breath.
"She's starving herself." The words dripped from my lips like burning wax from a candle.
Alanyss helped me to stand up straight, "Don't feel bad, she's sees you as a god. You're perfect in her eyes, and she wants to be perfect too. She's changed over the last few months just so you would notice her. The bruises on her veiny hands and sides are from the number of times she's punished herself for eating more then one-thousand calories a day."
-
I couldn't stomach to think that Alana, the love of my life, was bulimic. Bulimia was a sorry eating disorder that swallows one out of fifteen female girls between the ages of eleven and twenty-five. Alana was a victim of death in the female-teen-race. I could understand what Alanyss meant by that term.
In a lazy-boy chair, I was sprawled out sitting across from the coffee table. I blinked twice then lifted my left arm that clutched the half empty glass of rye. I looked down inside the cup to find my sorry, beat up complexion looking back at me. I felt let down and I didn't want to believe what I now… knew.
"Dash?"
Startled by the awakening of Alana, I sat up straight, "Yes, ah, good morning, sunshine. How did you sleep?"
Alana came from behind the chair and sat on the coffee table, "I never thought I'd see the day that you'd be tanked." She laughed.
I consumed what was left in the cup and threw it to the floor, "Don't laugh, Alana."
"Is there something that is bothering you?" She got worried by the tone I used with her.
Tears burned in my eye lids, I blinked trying to keep them back, "I think you should move in with me, Alana."
I didn't sleep all night. For hours on end, I thought about ways I could help her. If she went home she would binge out on anything then vomit it all back up, she'd be sick and her moving in with me would benefit her from being away from Alanyss and benefit me by knowing she was okay. I loved my solution.