Alice opened her eyes. She could smell something being cooked downstairs. It smelt like bacon. Her tummy rumbled making her realise just how hungry she was. As she stood up something crossed her mind. This wasn't her house. But at the sane time she recognised it. The bed wasn't hers but at the same time she remembered choosing the quilt. The softest and consists one in the shop. The dresser looked familiar it had a picture on it. She picked it up. It was of her and...no it couldn't be. This wasn't a photo she remembered being taken. It was definitely her. She stared at it for ages. Looking for any tiny flaws. She looked older and looked at a nearby mirror to see. Definitely her. But there was one question that she hadn't thought about. Who was cooking in the kitchen of this strange house?
"Mummy!" A girl shouted as she walked into the kitchen. Alice walked over to hug her. Even though Alice didn't know this girl at the same time she did. Her daughter. She looked up to see...no it couldn't be. He's dead. She stared shocked looking at Curtis.
Suddenly it hit her. She remembered it all the wedding, the birth of there daughter Alex. Them moving to Scotland to get away from it all. The happy life the three of them lived.
Alice sat up in bed. She was sweating. She looked around, nothing. It had all been a dream.
"Curtis is dead." She whispered, tears rushing down her face.
It was only a dream.