Hey, guys, I'm back, as promised. I'm a little behind on updating because my computer is a demented piece of metal with a keypad and a screen. It ran slow, sorry! Since I talk a lot, I decided to limit what I have to say to four...
One: Thank you SO much for the reviews. I really appreciated them.
Two: Who else was surprised by last week's kiss?! I thought it'd be in Fresh Starts & Farewells. I actually already saw it on YouTube, but I'm not spoiling it. A bit cliche, if you ask me. That's why when they kissed, which I didn't expect, was a major turn from Disney's usual stuff. Austin & Ally, Jessie, and Good Luck Charlie are the only reasons I still watch Disney Channel. And I'm such a child, especially for my age. I never wanna grow up, I'm like Peter Pan...
Three: Who else got R5's new album LOUDer? I didn't but I downloaded it to my phone. It's awesome and at WalMart, I think, and on Itunes. Okay, that's enough...
Four: I own nothing. Besides, even if I did own Austin & Ally, I'd get fired for attacking (in a good way..) Ross Lynch. I'm a hopeless dreamer.
The applause came from none other than Austin Moon. He opened the door, somehow. I'm not going to ask him because he was in prison. Where did he learn how to pick a lock? Sarcasm.
"I was just fooling around." I say. It's a bit of a lie and the truth. I was just singing and playing a random song, but I had written that song and it meant a lot to me. Fooling around? Ugh, he probably knows I'm a terrible liar too. I always stutter and get a high voice, and sometimes smile a little.
"That's not just fooling around. You... have..." he begins.
"Talent?" I ask, expecting that's what he'd say.
"No. Not even potential. But, you have a lot of guts to sing like you didn't just cut yourself. You must be Marilyn Monroe."
"Marilyn Monroe was an actress, for your information." I correct him. And Marilyn Monroe also might not have killed herself. 50 years and we still don't know. He could have said Whitney Houston. But I shouldn't blame him. He didn't have much of an education in jail. But he was in jail for a month. A month. That's not long enough, especially for murder. Or manslaughter. Whatever the hell happened that night. All I know is, a month is definately too short to be in jail. Parole lasts longer than that. I shouldn't ask him though. I have no right to do that. Not completely.
"Actually, she was an actress, model, and singer. She spent most of her life in foster homes." he says, reading it off of his phone.
"Are you on Wikipedia? That thing always lies."
"Maybe you're just like it. Yeah, I'm on it, but my point is you sang your freaking heart out after just cutting yourself."
"Eavesdrop much?" I ask, denying anything he accuses me of.
"I wasn't eavesdropping. You change the subject too much."
"No, I don't. What about you and your little prison buddies? Go hang out with them. I'm sure it'll be fantastic."
"Why spend time with them when I can spend time with you?" he says. My eyes widen. He basically just said he'd rather spend time with me than his prison buddies.
Wait, why am I getting all excited? That's not exactly a good thing. He's saying he'd rather spend time with me than people in jail. That's terrible, in so many ways. Besides, most of them are probably still in jail anyways. And you can't make a friend in one single month. That's too short to just call someone your friend. I knew Cassidy for a month, we talked here and there, but we weren't friends. If I did call her my friend, I would have regretted it. That was seventh grade and after her and I became cool with one another, she stopped talking to me. If I had called her my friend, I would have been hurt.
More hurt.
"You and I won't spend this alleged thirty three days together. Or any day after that. I'll be lucky if I can survive that long." I say, mumbling the last part.
"Ally." is all he says. He's walking over to me. I think I'm blushing, but I cover it with a frown. Oh, great. False alarm. He's walking over to the piano. I got all excited for nothing. Why was I excited to begin with? I don't like him, remember? I mean, I do, but not in that way. And if it gets to that way, I'll have to fight it because I'm not getting hurt again. Not again. I've been hurt too many times to count and I'm afraid that if I'm hurt again, it'll be the end of my dating life for good. I wish it were just the end of my life, for good, and there'd be no worries after that anyway.
He starts playing but stops. Interesting.
"Why'd you stop playing? It was... it sucked, but why'd you stop?" It was actually pretty good, but I couldn't tell him that. That'd be weird. Well, he'd assume I gave him a compliment, and people don't usually give compliments unless they like someone. He can't be under the impression that I like him or he'll abuse that weakness just like Kyle. Kyle. His eyes. His face that made any girl want to fall for him. I was one of many, and I'm pretty sure he raped other girls too. He made me do something I didn't want to do. Well, not really. It's not like I participated. But I didn't scream or cry for help. He said if I made a single sound, he'd kill me. He had already punched me, so I don't think killing me would be too hard of a job for him to do. Even if I did scream, no one would hear. The music was blasting at it's maximum.
Before Austin can answer, my thoughts make me cry. I even start shaking. I can feel Kyle's body on mine again. I can feel my face throbbing because he punched me. I can feel the same feeling I had the night it happened. A year ago. That feeling isn't the best feeling in the whole world. In fact, it's the most disgusting, grotesque feeling in the entire universe. That tops whatever feeling those "aliens" have. My hands are practically vibrating. My legs look like a volcanoe ready to erupt. I bet I look like a fucking gremlin having a seizure.
Austin doesn't do anything. He looks shocked. I want him to help me, but I don't think that saying, "Don't touch me!" gave him the idea that I wanted to be helped. He walked out the door. I can't be angry. I pretty much told him to. I didn't need to use words to tell him to get the hell out of my life.
I don't calm myself down completely, but I lay on my back and cry myself to sleep. Typical night for me. I spend most nights crying myself to sleep for two different reasons: Kyle and loneliness. I have several daymares about Kyle. Just reliving that night. That night. Over and over again. Every night. I wake up, do what I do (which isn't much), and while I do that I think about Kyle, and when I go to sleep, if Kyle's not on my mind, I cry about how alone I am. Except then I go to sleep and have a Kyle nightmare again. A repetitive cycle.
The next day, I wake up in the same spot. I gurgle some mouth wash and spit it out on the floor. I wash my face with the water from a water bottle. My hair is a tangled mess. I haven't washed it in a few days and I have delicate hair. Not really, but if it's not washed, it'll go physco. Physco. A girl just released from a mental hospital is calling her hair physco. Wow.
I let my hair down and comb it with a stray comb. It's not hard to find a comb on the ground outside, depending on where you are and where you look. At least I look half decent. To change my style up a bit, I put on a Beatles shirt and some jeans that are baggy. Despite the hot weather, I put on a hoodie. It's no Northface, but just a hoodie.
But it's the whistle I hear when I'm putting the Beatles shirt on that annoys me. I look at the door's direction. Austin Moon. Who could have guessed?
I was changing by the cashier, only because my pile of clothes were under the register. I didn't have much clothes: a few hoodies, a Beatles shirt, a green shirt with a red stain, about ten sweatshirts of only the same three colors; blue, black, red, and maybe ten sweatpants that were all faded colors of gray, but gray itself is a faded color.
Austin sees that I'm still getting dressed, despite his whistle. He won't make me lose my thought.
He smiles at me.
Wait. What was I talking about?
"Why are you looking at me? Are you some type of sick, pervertic bastard?"
"No. Just a lot to look at." he replies. Wow, nice job making me feel bad for calling you a bastard by telling me I'm pretty. He did say that, right? A lot to look at. That's a compliment, right? Who cares? I obviously do. For some reason, and I honestly don't want to care.
"Well, get out of my face because there's nothing to look at."
"No, thirty-two more days are left."
"Shut up! There is no thirty-two more days! There never was and if you don't get out of my face, for you, there won't even be one more day!" I snap. He looked at me while I was getting dressed. That's a time where I shouldn't worry about a disgusting loser looking at me naked. I wasn't walking around the store naked, but I was changing under the cashier. I stood up to put my pants on. Like, who doesn't stand up to put pants on? Then I put my shirt on. I wasn't exactly thinking someone would come inside a music store, especially at six in the morning, when the sign clearly says... 'open'. Okay, it said 'open', but that's no reason to do what he did.
That's disgusting, to the level of Kyle. Kyle would do that, except knowing him, he'd take a picture or something. It bothers me so much. Given our past, I can't forgive him for that. Especially, given my past with boys not caring about my... private parts. I was raped, so how does he think I'll react to him whistling when I'm shirtless, especially considering he killed the guy who raped me, and I went to a mental hospital because of it? Okay, so I say "especially" a lot. That's only because I have lots of reasoning for things. I'm a bit pedantic. Sometimes. I think I talk too much.
"Ally, there are several days left, out of your control." he says.
"They're in my control. I can kill myself."
"Why would you try to kill yourself in the first place?"
Did he seriously just ask me that? That's a Dora question.
"I'm sorry, Professor Dickwad, did you get beat up in jail? Because something retarded climbed inside of you. Maybe it's always been there."
"Yeah, well, I got pounded a few times. It was just a question."
"No, it wasn't just a question. Maybe it was to you, but to me that's something I've never told anybody, and you're one of the reasons why I tried. So, get out of my face. Please."
"Well, you said please, so I think I'll leave. But I'll see you tomorrow." Austin says, and starts to walk out. I go after him.
"No. There is no tomorrow. Can't you see that I hate you? Do you understand what 'no' means?! It means they decline your offer, or decline your demand, or command. It means no and no means no. Apparently, you're just like Kyle because he doesn't understand what no means either!" I shout. Tears come down my face, like they always do. They have some magical way of appearing. Tears and I are pretty close. Something happens and you might as well cue the tears.
"Bummer. I don't hate you. In fact, I think I like you."
I groan. "Oh, gee, is this the part where I can't resist you and we kiss? If it is, you can just get to the heartbreaking and I can move on with my endless life." He doesn't seem to get the hint. I don't like him. I've told him that. I've shown him that. Do I need to spell it out?
Austin walks closer and puts his hand on mine. It's warm and I like it. It's like a blanket in hand form. Okay, I must be crazy. I just got out of a mental hospital, so that's totally normal.
I yank my hand away and hit him in the head with my nearby songbook. "Okay, I talk, you listen. You disgust me. I don't like you and I won't even in a million years. You understand that, don't you? If you don't, you're from another country and I'll translate it. French? Spanish?"
"I was going to leave, but I decided to stay just to annoy you."
I turn the sign to 'Closed' and stomped to the practice room. The fact that he couldn't take a hint was shocking, yet I expected it. He understood what I was saying, but he said we'd spend thirty-three days together and he meant it. Why was he asking me questions? Did he want me to ask him questions? Should I just shower him with questions? I have a plan. I'm going to allow him to hang out with me, buttering him up, and then figure out whatever this little mystery is about him. It can't be that bad.
I expect him to come in and follow me. I expect him to do like he keeps doing. Annoy me and ignore me. So, when he doesn't come I get the feeling he left... because I kind of told him to. I look at the door and Austin isn't there.
Kyle is.
"What are you doing here?" I ask him. He should be dead, yet he's right here. It's literally a nightmare come true.
"What are you talking about, Ally?"
"So, in my dreams, you remember my name?" He smiles the smile I couldn't resist. He smiles the smile that got me raped.
"This isn't a dream." he says and starts walking over to me. What am I supposed to do? I could sit there or I could move. What difference does it make?
His hand touches mine, and it burns. I feel like that's literally the chemistry we have. It's not chemistry; it's fire. That fire needs to be put out, but it seems to grow bigger. What a shock. Add that to the list of things Ally Dawson has ruined. Her own life, perhaps others, and every chance at her happiness. How smart of me. It doesn't literally burn, but the single touch hurts. His hand is so rough and he has nails. Why do boys let their nails grow? Most boys I know don't.
After Kyle touches my hand, he touches my face. Like he did the night he raped me. I move back a little, but he just grabs my wrist to pull me towards him and kisses me. I let him. I mean, if your crush kisses you, aren't you going to let him? Well, stop him, and ask him if he's a rapist. I wish I had done that.
I don't kiss him back. In fact, the weirdo bites my lip and I push him off of me. He doesn't push me back, but in return, he kisses me again and I try to get him off, but, like Austin, he doesn't get a hint. Every time I see Austin, I see Kyle. And Kyle is somebody I don't want to see.
Kyle grabs my wrist, so he makes sure I don't get away. He continues... not listening to me, just like Austin.
The nightmare wasn't too detailed. I have the same one every single day. What happened that night is something unforgettable, especially since I'm reminded of it every night. The fact that Austin reminds me of Kyle, kills me. Not literally. If it did, my life would be easier and have gone my way for once.
I start screaming at the top of my lungs. Austin was at the door. Not Kyle. Same. They are just alike. How it must have looked to Austin: seeing me scream and cry uncontrollably, shout 'I said no' several times, and hop around. I wasn't really hopping, but just moving around trying to get away from Kyle, who wasn't there. He was never there. Austin was there, and the comparison is inevitable.
He doesn't help me. He allows me to be physco, like I probably am. I told him to leave a long time ago and he doesn't listen, which is just so 'surprising'.
"Leave, I'll see you tomorrow." I say, after wiping my tears (and my nose) with my sleeve.
Austin nods, and turns to leave, but comes back. What now?
"Ally. Do you really... hate me?" Austin asks me. Ally.
"I don't hate you to the point of death, but I hate you to the point that if you don't get out of my face, I'll have no issue stabbing you." I answer. He smiles. I smile back.
"You should smile more." he says. I raise an eyebrow.
"Okay, Austin, starting tomorrow, I'll give you a chance." I say. He can talk to me and I won't hurt him. That's a privelege he should like to have, especially with all of his questions. That I will not answer.
"Oh, so I'll pick you up at eight?"
"Ew, not that kind of chance. Not in a million years remember?" He smiles again. Okay, so he wants something to look at, I'll give him something to look at. Yeah, that's right, I'm still angry. It reminded me by him saying that. He's a pervert. No, I'm too weak and scarred to go all "Girls Gone Wild" on him, but I'll totally curse him out... again.
"I was joking. You're not my type." Somehow, this hurts my feelings. He's mean, but I'm not the nicest girl, now am I?
"If I weren't your type, why were you watching me get dressed like a disgusting weirdo?! Like Kyle?!" Leave it to me to find any reason to think about Kyle.
"I honestly wasn't. I whistled to let you know I was there. I could care less about you getting dressed or about Kyle."
"Oh." is all I say. How weak of me. A bit lame, actually. I accused him of being gross and all he did was walk in the store and whistle to let me know he was there. Part of me doesn't beleive that. Ally Dawson isn't that gullible. Ally Dawson should not speak in third person.
Well, I care about Kyle. In a bad way, meaning I can't just not think and wonder about him. I'll always care about the stuff he did and said.
Some things are out of our control. Austin was right about that, but he's not my problem. Well, not my only problem.
What do you think? Like? I'm not too fond of this chapter, but this just needed to happen for the story's sake. The first few chapters are always a bit... scratchy. The nightmare was short, but it'll be longer in the future. I couldn't say how she got raped in the second chapter, just too soon.
So, review, and follow and favorite if you haven't already. Don't be afraid to tell me what I need to work on. I actually take criticism badly, sometimes, just depending on my mood, how the person says it, what they are critiscizing, and their opinion on other things. Like, if they like One Direction and try to tell me this story sucks. Chhhhyeaaaaahhhh, they can go read a different story and I recommend R5 for a new favorite band. Okay, I'm so mean... Like what you like, I don't really care, but... like my story and I will care. My life revolves around writing.. Hehe, just kidding... maybe.
Okay, so I made a diagram because I have OCD and I really have to put things in lists and graphs and tables to organize them. I'm not even sure if that's what OCD means, I just heard it on TV... which I watch too much of. And I also add 'dot dot dot' a lot... This story will have exactly thirty-nine chapters and will end in May. I didn't think about that at first. So, when summer finally comes, this story is ovah! A lot is in store and in case you didn't get the hint, Austin & Ally WILL end up together. I put it in the summary... I'm an idiot, but that's okay.
Bye, guys. Sorry it was so late! My computer is what needs to go to a mental hospital. It's so slow, that no matter how long the Hare slept, it would still lose the race. The freaking tortoise could beat it! Okay, I'm calm, now I can eat breakfast. I'm so hungry. Oh yeah, and if I don't update on a Saturday, it's most likely because of my laptop moving as slow as a slug. So, don't be too surprised if I update that Sunday. Oh, no, Sunday means Monday, and Monday means homework. I forgot to do my homework...Well, bye... I have some work to do.
Adios, amigos. : )