This is a 'one-shot' that came into my head and thought I'd write-up quickly. It has ended up a lot longer than I expected (as there is 30 years to cover) and so I'm turning it into a short story but it will have multiple chapters. . I hope you enjoy it.
I've tried to use words that Alice would use (e.g. purse not handbag, silverware not cutlery/ utensils), and I hope they are current in America in 1920, but my spelling is of course UK English. And if that isn't enough to convince you I own none of this... Stephenie Meyer is the owner and master of this world. I am simply playing with her creations and earn nothing for this. You can give me money if you like but not for writing this. Just out of the goodness of your heart
The Journey from Asylum to Carlisle
Chapter One- Darkness
It is so dark here. There is nothing but nothing. No light, no room to do anything. I just sit here in the furthest corner from the door. I don't like to be here, but it is better than the alternative. Every day at the same hour, they open my door. The door is brown in the little light that comes from the florescent bulbs hanging from the low ceiling every few feet in the corridor outside. They take me through the grey corridor for 35 steps then we take the white door on the left, and go into a dull yellow room with a brown linoleum floor and a ceiling that was once white but now stained yellow. They then strap me into the horrible grey chair and I try not to think for an hour.
They try to talk to me, but I don't want to think. I don't want to think of anything. I want to go back to the dark room. The electricity pulsing through my hands, vibrating through my body and shocking my brain is a pain beyond belief, beyond reason, beyond bearing.
I long to die.
I see one friendly face. He is a beautiful man. I don't think he is very old. He has mainly grey hair on both sides of his face, and black hair covering the rest of his head. Despite that, he doesn't have a single wrinkle or crease on his face. It is perfectly symmetrical and smooth-looking. He is pale white- as white as the door of the room I refuse to think about. He is as tall as the door also. His eyes are the strangest colour I have ever seen. The colour of shelled walnuts. I see him every day… I think. He comes to see me, sits with me in the dark for a while and talks to me. I don't pay attention much. The blackness of the room dulls my senses and he often only sees me after I've been to visit the yellow room. I don't want to think after I have been in there.
Neither the darkness, nor the electric-shock treatments stop me seeing the things I see; the visions. They are not really visions. I just get the idea of something that will happen. I would try to give you an example, but I really can't remember many of them. I hate the 'visions'. They don't make sense. I think I tried to help people once, a long long time ago but the visions got me into more trouble. I wish they would just go away.
I have no idea how long I have been here. Time doesn't mean much to me any more. I can't count the days, and I refuse to count the number of treatments I have, if this is my best measure of time. I just keep my head down and stay in my own personal oblivion.
Time passes with no speed for me. Nothing comes quickly. Nothing comes slowly. Nothing really happens for me to have a measure of time.
Today seems different to usual. Today, someone is coming to see me. I know this. It does not comfort me. The man who will see me will mean me harm. I do not know what he will look like, but in the same way that I know things sometimes, I know that he will come. I also know that he will be a brown-haired man- a brunet- and he will have red eyes. This scares me but I cannot think clearly enough to scream.
I have just eaten. Like every other meal, it was bland, mushy and I had to eat it with my fingers in the dark. They know what I would do if I had silverware. I would find a way to kill myself. I finished the gloop, and left the flat plate in the usual spot and went to my corner. No- I could not think clearly. The food is drugged. The food is always drugged. They do that so that they can get the tray back out without fear of attack. Like I'm going to attack them! However I would run out if they gave me any opportunity.
The man is here- somewhere. I can feel it. Everything in me is telling me to run. The drugs are not yet wearing off, but the knowledge comes through loud and clear.
I can hear noises coming from outside. I cannot hear what they say, just that people are speaking. They avoid speaking in the grey corridor usually. I retreat as far into my corner as I can, tucking my knees against my chest and making myself as small as possible.
The door is flung open towards me. I look up into the bright light outside and it hurts my eyes. I can barely see what I know to be the truth- the eyes of the man in the doorway are bright red and alive with excitement. He draws in a deep rattling breath and grins.
One moment he was in the doorframe, and then before I realise any different, he has placed his hand on my cheek and is kneeling before me. He sucks in a moan and seems to try to put his lips near mine. He moves towards me slowly now, speaking so softly that I can barely hear him,
"Oh little-one. So… delicious" he whispers, to me I think. Maybe to himself? I don't know what he means… until I do. Realisation dawned on me like a slap. I had the knowledge suddenly that this was not a man, but a vile beast who intended to drink my blood and kill me.
As much as I wanted to die, I did not want this monster to kill me.
Before he had a chance though, a ripping thrashing sound came from overhead, and faster than a raging bull, moved miraculously through a chamber overhead, down some kind of stairwell I have never seen, and careened down the corridor towards me.
The monster beside me dropped his hand from my face and slid his feet into some kind of crouching position facing the door, ready to attack the raging bull that now stood in the doorway and slowly advanced. The beautiful man who often sat with me was here, but he did not look so beautiful now. His face was contorted into an evil grimace, his teeth brilliant white teeth sparkled, and pushed his lips back. A deep growl rolled in his throat and reverberated around the room.
"Leave Alice alone!" the last word pained my ears. He shot me a quick glance and pain showed in his face.
