Love, Ally by Hannah Gray

fifteen

Cole

Feeling Ally’s warm body, hearing her breathing as she lies peacefully in my arms, I feel better than I have in a long time.

I’m thankful that once her roommate knew I had stayed, she texted Ally that she was going to stay with some friends and gave us some time alone. We needed it.

My eyes grow heavy as I feel almost as light as a cloud. Sleep isn’t something that typically comes easy for me. Normally, I have to run myself ragged until I am so exhausted that I can sleep. Then again, not only did I have a game tonight, but I also made love to Ally for as long as we both could stand it. It’s no wonder I’m feeling so tired.

Glancing down at her, I smile and kiss the top of her head. My angel.

“I told you, stay in your fucking room! You little fucking shit!” my dad stumbles over the words. He’s too high to form a sentence without his eyes closing as his body sways back and forth.

“Sorry, Daddy,” I plead. “I just … I just really need some water.”

I haven’t had anything to eat or drink in two days. I knew the risk of going out there while his friends were over, but I chose to do it anyway. And now, I’m going to pay for it.

“Hey, you guysss.” My dad smiles a sick, demented smile. Showing all of the teeth he’s lost since he started putting that stuff into his arm. “Want to play a game called Who Can Land a Knife the Closest to the Disrespectful Kid Without Killing Him?” He laughs a raspy smoker’s laugh before grabbing me by my dirty T-shirt and throwing me against the wall.

Leaning down, he puts his nose to mine and points his bony finger. “Stand still, boy. Or you will die.”

One lady tries to stop it. She comes here now and then, and she’s nice to me. Sometimes, she even brings me a Nutty Bar and leaves it outside of my door. She uses the poison too. I’ve seen her do it. But the poison doesn’t make her mean like it does to my dad.

“Ralph, no. Don’t be fucking stupid,” she yells to my dad, blowing smoke from her cigarette out of her mouth and into the air.

“Shut the fuck up, Vick,” he yells over his shoulder as he digs knives out of the drawer.

Stepping in front of him, she tries to grab the knives. “No! I won’t let—”

Grabbing her by her throat, he shoves her against the refrigerator. As he continues to squeeze, her face begins to turn blue, and her cigarette falls to the floor.

Finally, he releases her, sending her into a pile on the floor at his feet. She coughs and wheezes. I should probably go see if she’s okay. That’s what a good boy would do, but I’m too scared. Scared of my dad and his other friends.

He kicks her once before turning toward his mangy-looking friends. “Get her the fuck out of here. And tell her to never come back.”

Her eyes are barely open, yet they find mine for a brief moment as they carry her toward the door. She mouths something. I think she says that she’s sorry. But it’s okay. She tried to stop my daddy. That’s more than anyone else has ever done for me. Besides, she brings me Nutty Bars. Nobody has ever done that before.

Pointing the knife at me, my dad snarls, “This will teach you to hold still, you good-for-nothing sack of shit.”

Positioning himself in front of me, he drives a knife up and reaches his arm back.

I’m scared. I’m so scared. I’m eight years old, and my own father is going to treat me like a human dartboard. But if I don’t stand here, he might kill me. He has threatened to before.

I should be brave, not a baby. I should be a big boy and not be scared. But I don’t want to die. I want to play football.

He tries to keep his eyes open, but because of the drugs, it isn’t easy.

The same time the knife flies out of his hand, I turn to run away. Feeling the blade pierce the skin on the bottom right side of my back, I squeeze my eyes shut so hard that it hurts, and I pray that an angel comes to my rescue.

Maybe not today. But one day in the future.

“Cole! Cole!” Ally shakes me. “Wake up. You’re okay. Shh, you’re all right. It’s all right.”

It always takes me a few minutes to form a thought after I dream of the day my own father tried to kill me. This is a dream I typically have once or twice a month. Ally is used to it though. She’s been around long enough to know these nightmares are something I deal with.

She knows how I got my scar and who gave it to me. That’s why she never touches me there. But she also knows that the memory of it isn’t something I want to revisit often. So, she never pushes me to talk about it.

We both have dark parts of our childhood that we like to keep buried. We unveil secrets when they are weighing us down, yet we also understand that some things are too painful to say out loud. Even so, we hold on to each other during the times when our monsters come back to haunt us. That’s what makes our relationship so sacred.

“I’m all right,” I tell her before pulling her on top of me. “I’m all right now.”

Pressing her forehead to mine, she sighs. “Is there anything I can do?”

I shake my head once. “Just be here with me. That’s enough to help.”

Throwing her arms around me, her tiny body hugs me as tightly as it possibly can. “I’m right here.”

I thank the fucking Lord that she is. Because having Ally around makes even the worst days better. But there’s a part of me holding my breath, scared shitless that she’s going to leave … again.