Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine.
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Certainty
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It was dark. Cool stone beneath her head, cool draught from behind, cool liquid on her chest; it made her shiver. Where was she?
Cool fingers on her skin. Whose? Her own. She blinked her eyes, but saw… nothing; blackness. Where was she?
Cold fingers traced the liquid, it had a particular smell, she couldn't place it. Over her chest, across her collarbones, her shoulders, her neck. There, her neck. The skin was marked, she felt a scar. A wound? The blood - for that's what the liquid was, she realised - was cold. What had happened to her?
Cool stone behind her back, sticky as she moved to sit up. It didn't hurt. In fact, she didn't hurt at all; this surprised her. What had happened to her?
Images. A pretty girl- No. Beautiful. A beautiful girl, running fast across a wide open space. The wind was in her hair, her clothes caught on the long grass, but nothing slowed her down. Herself. This was a certainty, though she didn't understand how. The beautiful girl was her, and sometime soon she would be running across a wide open space, faster than the wind. How did she know that?
Images. An elegant man. His face was kind, the face of an angel. A good and elegant man. He took her hand and greeted her as a daughter. She would find him, this was a certainty. How did she know that?
Images. A face. Images. Eyes. Images. A soul, her soul, and another's, a beautiful other. But his eyes were red. She did not love him yet. But she would, this was a certainty. How did she know that?
Images. Those eyes, they changed; they warmed, they lightened. He blinked and the red was gone. He was a good man too, she realised, but he was waiting for her. "Alice?" he asked. That was her name, Alice.
Images. A hand reaching through a square of light, bearing a tray. She took the hand, pulled the hand, broke the hand. She did not break the skin though. From the good and elegant man she knew she mustn't. She pulled the arm, pulled it through up to the shoulder, and snapped the neck. The arm stopped screaming. Around its neck it wore keys. Keys to the door; because that's what the hole was part of, it was part of a door. She opened the door and started running, this was a certainty. But how did she know that?
How did she know that?
She saw it.
A loud noise; it made her start. A bright light appeared. A square of light. And through the light there came a hand, a hand bearing a tray.
She knew what she had to do. She'd seen it.
And then she was running.
What was she?
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