Alice: Facing the Future
by Happilyeverafter18
Chapter 1:
I can feel myself sitting upon some sort of chair, but I do not look down. I hear the sounds of glasses clinking together and people talking, many in disgruntled drunken rants. I see a door open, the light fills the room. It blinds, but I can see slightly through it. I see a tall and pale figure. I see perfect blonde locks and pale skin baring scars from who knows what. I am most held by crimson irises surrounding the darkest flash of black, but it is not the strange color that holds me but the warm sense of security I feel that comes with the piercing gaze. Before I can really see the person in the doorway, the light encloses around me with a roar that blurs out all the sound. I feel no chair supporting me anymore, and I float.
I open my eyes, and I am surrounded by blackness. I lay on a cold black street in a dark alleyway. There is no one around, and the city noises of cars and people sound out from around me. The alley seems to have no draw, and I wonder why I am here. I have no memory of why I am here. I just am, and you know what's funny? I have no memory of anything that's happened to me up to this point. It seems I have amnesia. Strange, right? I need a name. What's my name? Oh, God, why can't I remember? I search the recesses of my mind, but I remember nothing. No word. No syllable. No sounds. Nothing.
I decide to get up. I will not learn anything of myself if I just lie here. I brush off my clothing. I am wearing a striped blue and white night gown made of flannel. I run my hand through my hair. I move with the speed and grace of light or the silent touch of wind. My hair comes just barely to my chin in a bob. I pull a strand toward my eyes. My hair is black.
I look to my wrist, and a plastic I.D. Bracelet hangs along the slender bones. I twirl it until I see the manuscript. In a curling script says the name Brandon, Mary Alice. I wonder if the hand that wrote this was mine. I repeat my name out loud, "Mary. Mary Brandon." I frown; it sounds off. I repeat what seems to be my middle name over and over, "Alice. Alice Brandon. Alice." I am smiling through the words. I then realize that I like it that way. I say, "Hi! I'm Alice, Alice Brandon. Nice to meet you!" I curtsy in my horrible night gown. It is dirty, and I feel dislike for the dress in itself.
I glance down myself. I am short, I realize- maybe four feet and five inches tall. My skin is very pale, almost sickly. I do not ache or feel queasy like a sick person usually feels, but my throat burns. It feels like I ate a couple matches before I went to sleep in this dark alley. Maybe I was suicidal… or insane. The burn still holds steady, and I yearn for milk, soup, water, or anything just to quell the thirst. When I start walking, I am caught by the fluid speed with which I move. It is captivating. Then my bare foot slaps into a puddle, but I feel an aversion to it as if I was looking at grass or dirt, not thirst quenching water.
Then I smell a scent so amazing that I have to stop. I inhale the scent, and my throat burns for it. This is what I am to look for. The scent is all around me. It lays thick in the air, and I am about to take a step towards whatever it is when my sight falls to blackness.
A woman runs through the forest. She has pale skin and dark hair. It is cropped and shining like plastic as it sticks up in every which way. She wears a short denim skirt that cuts across her upper thigh and a flowery white blouse. A lone deer is grazing next to the river, and she runs toward them. She is a fast as me, and I realize that she is going so fast that I shouldn't be able to comprehend her every movement, her every step, but I do. She leaps at the now fleeing deer, and she knocks it to the ground. The woman blocks the animal's attempts at escaping, and she brings her face to its flailing neck. It seems as though she is kissing its neck tenderly, but I see the flash of white teeth and the flow of deep red blood. The deer's movements become slow and labored, and then they finally stop in one final convulsion. She seems to be sucking the creature's blood, like a spider to a fly. She gets up and races to the sides of nine people. They all look alike, and yet they don't. Their features are all perfect and white, their eyes contrasting the crimson ones I'd seen earlier with warm butterscotch. They range from hair colors blonde to redhead, ages seven to thirty. One person looks Indian, but he stands in the back. The woman turns around. I gasp.
I am looking at myself. My other self smiles broadly at the group, seeming to radiate happiness. I seem to belong here. A man with blonde hair and a wiry body takes the other me into his arms. He murmurs in a voice that I know I shouldn't be able to hear, "Happy New Year, Alice. 2009 is going to be great." Other me grins and laughs, "Well, of course it will be, Jasper!" He kisses other me softly on the cheek, and I feel myself watching with a growing jealously- of myself! I am happy, living the perfect life filled with love will do that to someone. Then the soft light from the moon engulfs me.
I am now back to standing in the dark alley. I am still burning, but resolved to the tempting scent. I hold my breath, and I realize that the breaths I'd been taking were not needed. I look to my trusty bracelet, and it says New York City Hospital 7/16/1922. In my… vision… I saw myself still living in 2009, looking the same and drinking blood. First of all, it seems that I am ummm… seeing… the uh…future. Secondly, it seems I have eternal youth, undeniably alien beauty, superhuman powers, and umm… a uh… thirst for blood. A word pops into my brain along with an image of a human, sucking blood. Then I realize, I am burning for blood. I need blood. I'm a VAMPIRE. In my vision, though, I was drinking animal blood. I know that vampires are supposed to drink human blood, but maybe I'm a different kind. Maybe I don't have to be a murderer and a vampire. Maybe I can just be a vampire.
I try testing out my superhuman powers, and when I jump, my feet reach as high as the tallest building tops. I laugh out loud; this feeling of flying is very exhilarating. I leap again toward the top of the nearest rooftop, and from there I spy a park. I think, There. I'll find animals there. And so as I leap the rooftops of New York City, I find myself liking the fact that I am a vampire-not a murdering vampire. I don't miss my mortality-not at all. I mean, you can't miss something you can't even remember! In the back of my mind though, I am haunted by those crimson eyes and the man who was holding me in 2009. Who are they? How will they affect my life? I guess these questions are just ones you have to deal with in being a psychic.