Ally awoke with loud pounding noises beating her head, the voices were very loud and the pounding was hard and consistent. She looked around trying to remember the events of the previous night, just then her eyes caught hold of empty marijuana bags and used matches, at that moment she remembered all that had happened.
She got up with great difficulty, she felt terrible, nausea was what she felt but it was normal; a small price to pay for her journey in to oblivion. She climbed up the ladder , pushed open the trapdoor and bid her sanctuary adieu.
She had not the slightest clue what time it was, but judging from the appearance of the sky; it must have been around noon. The sky was so clear, so beautiful, so peaceful, an utter complete contrast to Ally’s state. She walked with small footsteps back to the house, her mother wasn’t home – as usual- she always left at nine in the morning to her fancy co-executive job at some hot-shot company around town. Her mom’s job consisted of late hours, consecutive travel plans and no time for Ally what so ever; this just gave way to further uncontrollable meltdowns and drug abuse.
She flung the front door open and walked in, she made her way up the stairs and into the bathroom. She didn’t even bother to turn on the water-heater, though the water was of freezing temperatures. She turned the tap on, letting the water run down from the shower head, meeting to make a whirlpool effect and vanish down the drain. She had to shower to remove all the smell of the drugs, she got under the water –standing perfectly still- feeling each and every ice-like droplet hit her pale skin. She felt thousands of needles striking her , but surprisingly –it felt good- Ally thought they performed a fair replay of her crumbling life. Each issue striking her like thunderbolts growing more and more painful every time. Ally grabbed the scrumptious strawberry- scented shower gel and scrubbed her skin, even though she felt overwhelming waves of depression she desperately tried to hold on to any sign of hope she could find. However, no amount of shower gel, chocolate or shopping sprees were going to ease her pain away. She turned the tap off and wrapped herself up in a rather scruffy looking towel, she turned around and was confronted with her greatest fear- the mirror. It seemed like a very unusual, absurd thing to fear, it was a fear Ally herself couldn’t comprehend, the truth was that every time Ally looked at herself in the mirror she was greeted by a pale face with sunken eyes and a gloomy composure that drove her deeper into her ocean of pain. She caught site of her pale complexion and quickly looked away rushing out of the bathroom to avoid confronting her real fear that was none other than herself.
She walked to her room and opened the door, the room was a cheerful, bubbly shade of pink- a reflection of Ally’s emotions prior to the divorce. She used to be a very happy hyperactive person with a great social status and a life everyone envied. The matter of the fact was that: to everyone else Ally was still the regular cheery person they had always known, except with the minor change of increased partying and a sliding landmark of atrocious school grades. Ally was a very good actress she knew how to hide her pain and mastered the art of fake smiles, she would still talk to her friends about the latest music, but mostly her part in conversations was an occasional ‘that song is amazing’ and continuous nodding. She got dressed in dark blue denims and a long sleeved black wool sweater, almost as black as the inner chambers of her soul.
Apart from her underground sanctuary, Ally also took shelter to a little blue book entitled ‘my journal’. She wasn’t exactly the type of person to document her feelings but she found great relief to ‘speak’ to ‘someone’ even if that ‘someone’ was just paper. As far as Ally was concerned paper couldn’t betray her, it couldn’t judge, it couldn’t criticize so it was the perfect companion to a depressed, weary soul. She sat down on her chair and took out the journal, she had written her first entry on the night of the wretched divorce, and since then she just wrote, wrote and wrote to her heart’s content. She grabbed her pen and documented the events of the night before along with her emotions and the desire to feel better even for a little while. She wrote countless pages till she almost alienated herself from the outside, malicious world. Just then the phone rang. Hearing this, she took in a great big breath and tried to get her best ‘I’m so happy’ voice ready. She picked up the phone trying to sound as bubbly as possible.
“Hello,” She said.
“Hi Ally!! It’s me Jess,” answered a voice.
“Oh, HI!!! How are you?” replied Ally as cheery as possible.
“We were planning to go to the mall today. Do you want to come?” asked Jess in a very sweet tone.
This was what Ally had feared… she had to start acting… again. It was very tiring.
“Sure! Why not,” said Ally “ See you soon, at two maybe?”
“Ok, see you there. Bye,” replied Jess.
Ally hung up the phone and rolled her eyes. She wanted to stay home. She wanted to write, cry and be her own depressed self… but it was too late she had already agreed to go… and if she cancelled people would start getting suspicious that’s the last that she would want to happen. She put her journal back where it belonged and walked up to her closet and rummaged through her various articles of clothing till she found the outfit that most said ‘I’m happy!’
She took out her long white boots, pink trench coat, pink stockings, and white scarf, that had ‘happy’ eliminating as bright as the sun rays. She put on her outfit and grabbed the car keys, ran down the stairs and out the door. She got in her car and just sat there for a while, then roared the ignition to life and drove to another theatrical edition of ‘ the fake laughs and days of Allison Johnson.’