~I'm not crazy – I'm just a little unwell. I know, right now you can't tell.~
Alice leaned against the bricks, pushing her dirty toes through the rat droppings. She wasn't sure why rats would want to live in this inhumane dwelling – or why she was being kept here. She couldn't remember much.
The day before she'd been asked her numbers and what city she was in. Alice couldn't remember. The woman in the white dress with the stern face had nodded, like that answer pleased her.
Something crawled on her toe, but Alice was too numb to shake it off. The electro-shock was being more and more frequent, and she was having trouble moving and thinking clearly. Her thoughts were jumping and skiping erratically. She had no control over this and hated it.
The thing moved up her short and deathly pale leg. Alice hadn't been outside since she'd been brought to this horrible place – six years before. She was whiter than her dress. The gown fit her loosely, like a cape. It was white when she'd gotten it, but now it was light brown and rusty colored – blood and dirt.
Alice's body was covered in scratches and bruises. The nurses would drag her to places cruelly, not caring if she got hurt. Sometimes the bugs and rodents would gnaw at her, and most times she couldn't move. Alice figured she was becoming like this because of all of the 'therapy'.
Sometimes when Alice would have the unfortunate pleasure of being caught having a vision, she would be 'treated' in a new way. Recently, she had had her head submerged into ice cold water for so long she'd passed out. Alice had no idea what was supposed to come out it.
She looked up at the wall, where a window should be. But there wasn't one. There wasn't a bed, or any place for a bed. Her room was as large as a broom closet and dirtier than one. The floor was covered in straw, dead bugs, and rat droppings. Alice assumed she was kept toward the basement, with the rest of the really crazies.
Alice knew that anyone who was brought were she was, was tortured and was never going to leave the asylum. She knew the other patients got to have rooms with a bed and windows, interact with others, and have real meals. Alice's food was usually scarce and stale, and sometimes an animal would nibble at it before she could.
The doctors and the nurses at the asylum all treated Alice like she was an animal. Every day she was being strapped to a chair and electrocuted. Then she would be brought back to her pitch black cell and await the reward of food.
Alice was very small. She had yet to reach four feet, and she assumed she was around thirteen or twelve. Her body was like a twig, because she was so malnourished. Her hair, which used to be so long and shiny, the envy of the schoolgirls, was now gone.
Her hair was being shaved every six months or so. Currently, her head was wrapped in uncomfortable white gauze. Her short, choppy hair had been shaved off the night before. She had bleed from some spots. That particular nurse didn't like Alice because she had warned her about her son getting trampled by a horse and dying. The nurse thought Alice caused it.
The bright spot of Alice's dim day was when she got the vision of him. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. He had long, wavy blonde hair and ruby colored eyes. He was paler than death and covered thickly in scars. He was with a beautiful woman - small, with wavy, brown hair and red eyes.
Maria, as the woman was called, seemed to think of herself as Jasper's companion. "Not mate," she had lectured stiffly. "Companions are different. Almost like friends, you and I, but not quite." She paused momentarily and frowned. "Don't look so sad. I keep you around, don't I? Anyway, you are my favorite. Do you want to spoil that?" Jasper – the blonde man – had shaken his head meekly. "As I thought."
She made him sad – this evil woman. She talked down to him, like he was her slave, and she was his Mistress. She abused him and scarred him, but he never did anything. Alice figured she must be missing something, for why else would anyone want to be treated like that?
The couple and their army of killing minions were living somewhere Alice couldn't place. They frequently discussed places called Mexico and Texas, but Alice had no recollection of these places.
She couldn't even read well anymore. The frayed bracelet of her skinny wrist read: Alice #12. Extreme risk to society and herself. The others words Alice could not make out anymore. She didn't know why she had a number or was a danger.
Alice was so small. How could she hurt anyone? It didn't seem to matter. She was still treated like the most vile rapist and murderer on the planet. She didn't deserve this. That was one thing Alice knows. But what could she do? Nothing. Alice flicked her toe and sent the hairy arachnid flying against the heavy door.
She'd tried pounding on the door once, to try and get help. Alice had seen something that had terrified her. Jasper had been jumped by three men in one of those battles he was always in. Alice was used to this. She'd grown scared when he'd been ripped apart. Jasper had screamed her name, "Maria!" The witch hadn't done a thing.
Maria had kept on fighting; only shooting a short pitiless glance his way. Alice had shuffled off the floor and pounded on the door, begging and crying for him to get help. No one had heard – or if they'd heard they didn't come. The only thing Alice had succeed in doing was shattering her wrist.
Alice looked down at her finger nails. They were short, and where they were bitten was bloody and raw. She'd always wanted nails like her nurses. Long, and white, clean and pretty.
She wanted her body to be like the nurses. Alice wanted a new dress and shoes. She wanted a hot bath and the lice to leave her hair – or rather, she had wanted it.
The lice were gone for the time being. She wanted decent meals and fresh air. Alice wanted love, and for someone to care. No one ever visited her, and no one ever responded when she tried to talk to them.
Alice hadn't truly spoken a sentence in two months. She'd once whispered a prayer for Jasper. He'd done something that had made Maria shake and scream with rage. She had brought him into the room affectingly dobbed the 'execution room.' Maria had laughed and tore him apart, telling him she was going to kill him.
She hadn't though. Jasper was still alive to this second. Alice had almost understood why she kept seeing Jasper. She was supposed to save him, meet him, or maybe hurt him. Alice had never seen anyone multiple times before.
Alice had once seen a family that was dressed in black, not crying or looking sad in the least, at a funeral for a girl named Mary Alice Brandon. Alice had cried for the girl, not knowing who she was. Somebody needed to mourne for the stranger. Alice hoped she was safe and happy in the afterlife.
The door to her cell was thrust open; a large woman with curly white hair placed a dish of food into Alice's room. The light was white hot and blinding. Alice cried out and hid her face in her hand, whimpering as her eyes tried to adjust.
Before that could happen, the door was bolted shut. Alice sighed and removed her hands, running them along her thighs. Her dress had ridden up the last time she'd sat down. She looked so indecent that she giggled. What would the nurses think? She giggled once more and looked to her food.
It was yet untouched – a good or bad sign, it depends. In the short, round dish sat some kind of mushy, sweet smelling stuff. Alice poked a finger in it and brought it to her mouth. It was thick and goopy, like vomit.
She liked her finger. It was hot and tasted sweet. Alice picked up the bowl and placed it between her shaking legs. She used her fingers like spoons to eat the mushy food. It was swirled with something that tasted bittersweet.
The food was gone far to quickly and Alice found herself wanting more. She was still hungry, and enjoyed the taste of her food. Some of it was left in her teeth. Alice greedily tried to sponge it out.
Just as she was finishing the meal courtesy of her teeth, she had a vision. Alice froze, green eyes widening. Her vision turned black for a moment, in them materialized.
Maria stalked along, Jasper at her heels. "Have you gotten word from him yet?" Jasper asked anxiously.
They were nervous. Maria wheeled on him and shouted, "If I had anything I would share it with you!"
Hurt flashed across Jaspers' face and sank into his eyes, but Maria didn't notice. Just then someone ran into the hall where they were, looking panicked.
"What is it?" Maria cried, rushing toward him. Once again, Jasper was hot on her heels.
He looked scared, like he'd seen a ghost. "They… come… die…"
Maria slapped him and hissed, "Speak sensibly."
"Anastasia and Nathan… I saw them. They're on our land with their army." The man said quickly, jamming his hands into his coat pockets.
Jasper and Maria froze, and looked at each other for a moment. "Go," Maria commanded Jasper.
Seemingly easy as breathing, Jasper turned down the halls and began shouting to people Alice couldn't see. Maria smiled at the messenger and kissed him.
"Thank you for delivering this news. If you survive, I will reward you." Maria left him alone then, going in the same direction as Jasper.
The messenger smiled, looking relived.
The vision tunneled away, and Alice was once again blinking her way into the present. She brought her thumbnail to her mouth and chewed on it, worried. What was happening over there? Alice relished these visions. They gave her something to think about.
The logical conclusion, based on past visions, was that some army was going to ambush Maria's. Perhaps Maria had sent Jasper to alert and prepare the others? It seemed the most logical expiantion. Alice closed her eyes and tried to think of Jasper, maybe get another vision.
Nothing. She cracked her eyes open again and yawned. Alice was tired. When was the last time she had slept? Sighing in frustration and submission, Alice curled up on the floor and closed her eyes, hoping to sleep until old age. Until the moment she died and could escape the life that was planned for her.
~I'm not crazy – I'm just a little impaired. I know, right now you don't care.~
6 years later...
She lay on the cold ground, in a fetal position. The walls and floor of her prison offer her no warmth or comfort. The grey concrete has been her only companion for the ten years she has spent living in hell. She supposed, a while back, that she must be in the basement of the hospital. Her small room – five feet by four feet – has no windows or furniture. The only thing connecting her to the outside world is a heavy steel door that is kept padlocked shut.
She has worn the same gown for ten years. A white dress, modest and thin, hangs limply over her lifeless body. Her thin arms fit easily throw the small holes that fit her snugly when she was six. She's never been allowed a change of clothes, or to have it washed. Her dress is stained with her blood, waste, and the dirt from the floor.
Bugs crawl across the concrete and scuttle over the nineteen year old girl. Lice flit threw her short black hair. It hasn't been washed for over a decade.
Her green eyes stare without comprehending at the wall in front of her. She has become a vegetable; all of the electro-shock treatments have gotten to her. They have increased in frequency over the years. The doctors believe the more it happens the sooner the devil will leave her. The men and women believe her to be possessed.
The knowledge she has, that of a six year-old from her time, is slipping. Her memory for things such as letters and numbers is failing. The state she is in escapes her, and she has had no formal contact with anyone for ten years.
Her visions – this is why she's here – are the only comfort to her. She pities the red eyed man she sees and wants to help him. She knows another with red eyes, although she doesn't say anything. It's not for the fact that malnutrition makes the words escape her, it's because she doesn't want anyone to know.
The door opens and the man comes in. He has been talking to her for years, and Alice listens. She hears and understands, but her treatment has made her numb. She winces and hides from the harsh lights. "How are the feeling today, Alice?" Dr. Heather asks, "A nurse will be taking you soon – for more of that inhumane treatment. You would think they'd realize nothing was wrong by now, eh?"
He chuckles for a moment and regains his composure. "I will get you out of here, come nightfall. I'm sure you have no idea of this but they have scheduled a lobotomy for you tomorrow. I can't let them happen so I'm going to help you escape." He paused and pushed a plate of food toward her.
A small moldy slice of bread and minute cup of water sit on the platter. She has gotten two meals like this everyday since she can remember. On her birthday she gets milk instead of water. Dr. Heather pulls a slice of cheddar out of his pocket and sets it on the bread. He brings her extra food.
Dr. Heather knows Alice has trouble feeding herself. She was perfectly capable of this years ago, but now she can't do much. He sits her a feeds her, and strokes her cheek to get the water down. "I will be back later," he promises. Dr. Heather lies Alice back down and kisses her forehead.
He has red eyes.
She falls into an uneasy sleep on the floor. A spider, large and hairy, crawls across her angelic face. Alice startles awake when a nurse throws open the door and crudely yanks her into the hallway. Alice closes her eyes to the blinding light and winces from the pain of the door handle stabbing her in the side. The nurse pulls her into a room with a caution sign.
A doctor sits at by a chair with many different wires connected to it. The nurse stripes Alice in a puts the helmet onto her head and the doctor flips a switch. Electricity flows throw the child-sized teenager. She convulsions in her chair, but otherwise makes no acknowledgement. The nurse unstraps her and drags her rag doll body pack to her cell and slams the door.
Alice curls back into a fetal position and grimaces when she feels a rat tickle her foot. Later that night Dr. Heather came back. "Are you ready to leave here, Alice?" The doctor asked, pushing a hand threw his grey hair. He cradles Alice bridal style and pushes her head against his chest. Alice keeps her eyes shut tightly.
Dr. Heather jogs up the stairs and outside. He knows this is the first time in thirteen years that nineteen-year old Mary Alice has been outside. He jumps over the barbwire fence and sprints vampire-speed into the woods. Dr. Heather can smell James following him. He sets Alice down in a low cave.
"If I don't come back," he murmured, "I apologize. I'll be dead." He sets Alice down onto the dirt and lays her onto her back. He sets a note under a rock, just in case. The white edges stick out, a warning for the girl.
James, a fellow vampire, wants Alice. He knows how Dr. Heather cares for her and wants her to be his prey. He scenes James come closer and sinks his teeth into Alice's creamy, corpse white neck. He leaves her withering and screaming.
Dr. Heather confronts James. And, James, enraged he could not have Alice, kills Dr. Heather. After he burns the pieces of the doctor, he takes one wistful look at Alice and sprints off.
Leaving Alice to wake up alone.