*Author's Note: Once again I apologize for my long absence. Thank you to my readers that have waited so long for a new story and thank you to my new readers. I won't bore you here by rehashing the reasons for my absence. I posted a brief summary about it in my bio. So, without further ado, on with the show!*
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It was so dark. The darkness swam around Ally almost drowning her. The only sanctuary was the glow of the streetlight up ahead. It beckoned her like a port in a storm. She ran to it, pressing her hands against the cool pole, bracing herself as she tried to catch her breath. But she couldn't linger.
"How could you do this to me?" The voice was faint, as if carried by the wind.
Ally ran onward into the darkness. The street was quiet around her. The only sounds were her breathing and the hollow sounds of her feet against the pavement. The sound of her footfalls seemed to get caught under the blanket of the darkness. Suffocated.
Ally peeked over her shoulder. She saw nothing except the streetlight behind her being gradually swallowed by the darkness. But Ally knew who was there. Even though Ally couldn't see her, she was there.
Ally ran to the end of the block, pivoted, and pushed off with the balls of her feet, hooking a left turn around a white picket fence. She ran along the fence and spotted an open gate and ducked into it, hoping to seek refuge in the house that lie beyond it.
Suddenly, Ally's forward momentum was halted and she flew backwards into the corner of the gate. A sharp pain shot across her back from the point of impact. Ally turned to look back and realized her long, plum-colored dress was snagged on a nail in the gate.
"Whore...," the voice was closer now.
Ally's blood ran cold at the sound of it. She carefully pinched and plucked at the end of her dress, trying to free it from the nail. As soon as she did, she found that her dress was impossibly caught on another nail just below the first one. Ally tried to free her dress but it wouldn't come loose. In desperation, she grabbed a handful of the dress and began to tug on it, not caring if the dress was shredded in the process. The dress finally came free with a ripping sound. The momentum of Ally's efforts carried her forward and knocked her completely off balance and hurtling to the ground.
Ally was more shocked from the fall than hurt. Fortunately, she fell onto the well-manicured lawn instead of the brick path leading from the gate. She took a moment to examine the dress. There was a tear about four inches long at the end. Ally shook her head then got to her feet. She dusted herself off as she walked up the path toward the house.
When Ally planted her foot on the bottom step of the porch, she froze in place. There was a strong familiarity to her surroundings. The well-manicured lawn. The white picket fence. The "Bless Our Home" sign on the front door.
It couldn't be. Ally snapped her foot back from the porch and turned to flee back the way she came. She was bounding toward the gate when she heard it. The shriek. The terrible, high-pitched shriek
"You whore!" The voice was all around Ally.
Ally threw her body forward, breaking into a sprint. She set her mind to make a left turn as she went out the gate, but she never got there. The cold hand on her shoulder was holding her back. Ally opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She pumped her legs and struggled to break free, but it was no use. The hand was stronger now, fingertips digging into her shoulder so hard it hurt. It was pulling her backwards. Back toward the house.
Ally kicked at her blankets as she woke up in her bed. She sat bolt upright, her hand clutching her chest. Her breathing was fast and raspy.
"Ally!" a voice called from somewhere distant.
Ally cringed at the sound.
"Ally get up! I'm not going to tell you again! You'll be late for school!" Ally's mom called from the hallway outside her room.
Ally gazed around at her surroundings. A Channing Tatum poster on the wall. A writing desk beneath it. A row of stuffed animals lined up on a dresser. She was safe.
Gradually, her breathing slowed and she fell back against the bed, letting her head flop onto the pillow. She brought her hand to her face and covered her eyes. Her skin was damp, as if she'd been running all night. Even though she'd been asleep for hours, her body ached. But it always felt like that. Any time she had that dream, which was at least once a week. Always the same.
There was a rapid series of thumps on her bedroom door. "Let's go Ally," Ally's mom said from the other side.
"Ok mom, I'm up, I'm up," Ally said. She rolled onto her side and pulled her covers up onto her body. They had been mostly kicked off her bed during the night. Even though she was sweaty, she felt cold. She pulled the covers up over her head and closed her eyes. The dream was quickly fading away into the morning light. The fence. The lawn.
It had been months since she had been at the Parkers' house. After the incident with Benny's parents, Ally hadn't been invited back. She didn't have a strong desire to go back either. Despite the falling out with his mother, Ally still managed to keep things afloat with Benny. They still saw each other at school, and Ally was able to give him the occasional handjob on the bus ride from school. But Ally felt awkward around him. Whenever she jacked him off, she felt his mother's eyes watching from afar.
Ally clenched her thighs together as she thought back to her last visit to the Parkers' house. The sweat on Mr. Parker's forehead as he plunged into Mrs. Parker from behind. The feel of Mrs. Parker's blonde hair intertwined between Ally's fingers as she pulled the woman's face into her pussy. The tickle of stubble on Mr. Parker's chin when he kissed her.
Another thud at Ally's bedroom door shook her from her daydream. "Breakfast is on the table," Ally's mother called out.
***
Winter break brought Ally a much-needed rest. School wasn't going poorly, but it was a struggle to stay focused. At home, she was fully able to be herself. And Christmas always lifted her spirits. This evening she was helping her mom decorate their tree. Ally always went overboard with the decorations. The tree was a mess of bright tinsel, lights, and glass ball ornaments. There was barely any green from the tree visible. Putting on the steeple was the finishing touch but the top of the tree was well out of her reach.
Ally walked into the kitchen to grab a chair from the table. The phone by the doorway rang as she walked past. Why anyone would still have a house phone was beyond Ally's comprehension.
