ANNALISE | Dallas Winston

three

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SUNDAY

i awake with the crisp morning breeze softly hitting my face. i slowly open my eyes, looking over to my cracked window.

as i stay put for a moment, i watch as my white curtains blow gently.

i then flip my covers over to the side, and arise from my bed. i stand still as my vision begins to blur, and become dark before quickly returning.

i rub my eyes and put my wavy hair behind my ears and walk to my window, shutting it.

i'm still in my clothes from last night. they smell like the rain and hospital sanitizer.

i lazily walk over to my door, opening it. as i go down the hall, the dining table comes into view.

few boxes of cereal sprawled around, ponyboy enjoying a bowl of quisp. i accompany him at the table, grabbing one of the bowls at the end and pouring some cornflakes inside, milk following after.

"good morning, annalise" darry says curtly. i nod at him. the usual energy isn't here, but it's okay.

it's comforting, not having to be cheery when something so horrible has happened. i'm glad my brothers don't force it upon us.

i look over to the couch and see sodapop lying down. he mustn't have slept well.

"i don't remember coming home last night" i say quietly, shoving another spoonful into my mouth.

"you were knocked," darry replies, washing his bowl from earlier. "i carried you in."

i don't say anything back. i take my last bite, then get up and put my bowl on the counter for darry to wash it.

i make my way back to my room, standing in my doorway for a moment. i sigh loudly when i realize that i should wash my sheets after sleeping in my dirty clothes, with dallas' dried blood on them.

i strip my sheets, and begin putting them in the washer.

not all at once of course, pillow cases and blanket first.

i then decide to take a shower.

i took quite a long one, at least longer than usual. as i stand inside, letting the water rush down my body, i try to really get myself to understand what happened.

johnny is dead. why don't i feel sad yet? why hasn't it hit me yet? i just feel a bit empty. i don't feel sad, but i'm not happy, at all. i'm not angry, or anything. i'm just..neutral i suppose.

i begin combing my hands through my hair as the water runs through. i then realize that this feeling is familiar. this is how i felt at the beginning when our parents died.

i'm sure it's different for everyone, but for me, i don't feel any kind of emotion for the first couple of days. it's like, i haven't accepted the fact that they're gone, but deep down i know that they are, so there's some type of weight holding it down, leaving an empty space that the emotions can't fill.

i don't know if that made sense, but imagine an oval type shape. there's a brick at the bottom, and underneath that there's all the emotions i should be feeling, like sadness or something, but because it's being held down, the space where they should be above; is empty.

and i feel absolutely nothing.

i don't quite remember how long the feeling lasted exactly when my parents died, probably because i tried to block out the feeling at all.

finally, i begin washing my hair with shampoo. i do it quickly, not wanting to be in the shower much longer. the water is becoming cold, anyway.

i turn the water off, and wrap my towel around my body. i walk out of the bathroom, and back into my bedroom.

i look at the mess on my floor.

maybe i could make myself feel a little more..up beat by cleaning up a little, considering i'm already doing my laundry.

with the towel still draped around my body, i begin picking up clothes, school supplies, trash, etc that was sitting around my floor.

i then take my towel off, throwing it on my chair. i pick out an outfit for the day and throw that on.

it's nothing special, i don't have the energy to dress up. it's a pair of comfortable black leggings, and one of my dads old light brown band shirts.

too lazy to brush it, i throw my hair into a ponytail, leaving my curtain bangs hanging on the sides.

as always, i put my mother's ring back onto my middle finger. i walk back into the living room, and see darry reading his daily newspaper, soda and pony watching the flintstones on the television.

i make my way over to the couch, scooting soda over. "would you like to go to the library with me today, annie?" pony asks.

ponyboy and i both enjoy reading. going to the library is something we enjoy doing together.

i smile lightly and nod at him.

darry doesn't really get on me about it, but he sure does ponyboy. says it's real important for him to study for school and do good, so that he can have a good future and provide for his family.

i look over to see darry shaking his head in disappointment. "movies and books, movies and books, that's all you two ever do" he says as he loudly puts his paper down "ponyboy, you done your homework? i don't want you gone reading when you got things to turn in."

ponyboy sighs "i forgot."

darrel rolls his eyes. "'i didn't mean to, i forgot' thats all i ever hear from you!" he shouts as he stands.

i furrow my eyebrows. this is a way he copes. his first stage is anger. he feels like he's responsible for everything that happens cause he's the oldest and takes care of everyone, but he's angry at himself for johnnys death, even though it had nothing to do with him.

"come on, darry. not right now" i say, looking up at him. his hands clench, and he leaves the room.

i look over to pony, and put my hand on his knee, apologizing for the way darry acts towards him.