A very long overdue hello to all readers, old and new!
I started this story in the middle of my senior year of high school and after years of sporadic updates, have decided to re-start this story now that I have graduated college. My education and maturity have contributed to a- hopefully- better, more developed style of writing and I wish to put that towards the very first story I've published on this site. Because of this, if you are a returning reader, you'll find that while some things will stay the same, a lot of it will have changed. That being said, I hope you enjoy this tale and I look forward to feedback from you all!
Wildflowers are beautiful, flourishing organically without the aid of man. They're not high-maintenance in their life cycle; they do not need the perimeter of a garden to allow them to blossom. Wildflowers simply are.
Alice is a wildflower.
While many her age mimic roses, orchids, or tulips- all beautiful, but all domesticated- Alice is a marigold, a poppy, a sunflower. Her hair is the golden tickseed: chestnut at the crown morphing into yellow past the ears. Her eyes are cornflowers: deep sapphire fading into a brilliant azure. Two cardinal flower petals made up her wide mouth, crimson and plump.
While her appearance certainly adds to the metaphor, it is her spirit that comprises her persona. Alice, a daughter of leftist scholars, blossomed unbidden by boundaries or social stigmas. Her adolescent mind was free to explore, to question, to challenge, to learn, to fail, and to succeed. Standing on the cusp of adulthood, she is curious, independent and free.
Ironically, our wildflower currently sits at a desk in the back of her school's science laboratory, sketching the petals of a bushel of forget-me-nots. Her hand draws while her mind wonders all to the blurred soundtrack of her teacher's lecture.
"Is there something more interesting on that paper than our review on matter, Ms. Fitzgerald?" The greying woman at the head of the classroom spoke, stalling our heroine's creation.
"No, Mrs. Smith." She replied softly.
"Then perhaps you can explain to me what ordinary matter is?"
Every head was already turned to the girl their educator was interrogating, but now their eyes flashed with sympathy, curiosity, or mockery. Alice was quiet in class- certainly a doodler- and didn't volunteer to answer questions aloud often.
A few moments passed in silence before Mrs. Smith smirked.
"Ordinary matter is anything made up of anything that makes up atoms or molecules."
Mrs. Smith's smirk fell.
"Well," the older woman flushed, "that is correct. But let me remind all of you, your final exams are next week. It would suit you all to do well on them." Her roaming eyes locked on Alice once more, "Some colleges may rescind their acceptance should you not put effort into passing your exams."
Alice nodded, knowing it would also suit her to not upset the very woman grading said exams. She placed her pencil down and folded her hands in her lap, focusing her attention on her teacher for the rest of her final period of the day.
Alice wasn't a bad student- in fact, she was set to graduate summa cum laude- she was simply more expressive on paper during her academic career. She didn't waste words on trivial matters and to her, primary school was just that: trivial. It was a stepping stone she was happy to be passing over, despite how necessary it was to reach a higher education.
As the bell rings, signaling the end of the school day, Mrs. Smith encourages her students to spend their last weekend before graduation studying, not "goofing off." Many- including Alice- focus on gathering their belongs and making their way out of the room as quickly as possible.
Her feet lead her to her locker where she shoves her textbooks into her backpack with the intent to try and study rigorously the next two days, but with the knowledge that she most likely wouldn't. Why waste time studying what you already know?
"Hey Alice, need a ride home?" Lena is a pretty girl with natural black hair, a deep skin tone, and a thick Louisiana accent. She is kind, intelligent, and most likely the closest Alice has ever had to a best friend. "It looks like it's about to pour!" she points a perfectly manicured nail towards the glass doors at the end of the hallway.
The sky was a menacing yellowy-gray, so heavily clouded that only threatening flashes could be seen instead of actual bolts of lightning. Just as Alice pulled her backpack on, a clap of thunder boomed, causing the very floor they stood on to vibrate.
"I think I'll take you up on that offer." Alice agreed readily, wanting to avoid the possibility of electrocution during her walk home. Besides, the straps of her bag were already digging into her shoulders from the weight of her books.
"Good choice. Let's go, maybe if we're lucky, we can beat the rain."
They weren't lucky.
By the time Lena pulled into Alice's driveway, a torrential downpour was upon them.
"Are you sure you don't want to come inside and wait out this storm? The visibility is pretty poor right now." Alice offered.
Her friend shook her head, "I've got to get home soon, I'm supposed to watch my little sister tonight. It's a five-minute drive- at most- so don't worry, Mom." Lena teased. "I'll be careful."
Shaking her head with a small grin and gathering her belongings, Alice thanks Lena and makes a dash for her front door. Once under the cover of the front porch, she fishes out her house keys and enters the small suburban oasis.
Her parents- Arthur and Jane- wouldn't be home for a few hours and her grandmother- Ivy- left a note for Alice informing her that she was next door, visiting Harold, and wouldn't return until dinner. The absence of her elders meant they would all be totally unaware that when Alice assured them she had studied for her upcoming exams, that she was lying. She could always study tomorrow, anyway.
Smiling deviously, Alice threw her body on the loveseat, propping her feet up on the armrest. If her grandmother was there she would scold her for having her shoes on the couch, but since she wasn't there, Alice decided to live dangerously. She grabbed the remote and flicked on the television.
The weather channel immediately popped up. A tremendous storm was about to pass over Baton Rouge, the current heavy winds and rain were just the outskirts of the eye of the storm. The downpour only seemed to be getting stronger and the lightening began to regularly illuminate the darkened sky.
Alice began to channel surf before she lost the ability to. The power was destined to go off if the storm was as devastating as the meteorologist claims. Not many interesting programs were yet on being mid-afternoon, but Alice settled on an episode of Doctor Who. She quite liked the show, despite it being a bit cheesy at times, but if you can give into the suspension of disbelief then it's an enjoyable show. She's watched it- the original series, film, specials, and revival series- for years with her father. She certainly hasn't seen every episode, nor is she the biggest super fan like her dad, but she did enjoy the shows ability to think outside the box and allow her mind to wonder.
Just as the Doctor was about to do something clever, ultimately saving the day as he always did, the loudest clap of thunder yet shook the house. The power immediately went out.
With a groan Alice rose from the couch and pulled her phone from her pocket and used it's light to guide her through the nearly pitch-black house. The clouds that covered every inch of the sky had become so dark that the home was only illuminated when bolts of lightning struck. Her hand grasped at the wall as she followed the hall to her bedroom and froze at her door.
Her door was closed.
She most definitely left her door open this morning before she left for school.
Perhaps her Grandmother closed it earlier- that made sense. What didn't make since was the ominous blue light shining through the half-inch space under her door.
Nothing in her room could explain for that light, even if the house had power.
Every hair on her body was standing by this point. There is an overwhelming emotion as her hand was poised to open her bedroom door. It's a feeling of utter wrongness, but also, ironically, rightness. She wants to turn and run, but that felt silly. This is her bedroom, why should an unidentifiable light in her own bedroom intimidate her so much? By this point, Alice has convinced herself that she'll open the door, find the light source and laugh at her imagination, so why is her hand still frozen?
"Alice?" Her grandmother was home early.
"I'll be there in a second!" She called, panting heavy with her previous anxiety.
Hearing the hurriedness in her voice, Ivy called back, "Are you all right, dear? Where are you? I can't see a thing in this damn house right now."
"Yeah, I'm fine! Just in my room." Her answer was rushed and she pushed her door open.
Her eyes went wide at the sight before her.
"Okay, stay there I'm coming to you!"
Her grandmother couldn't see this.
"Nope, nope! I'm fine, Grandma, just- just trying to rest for a bit. I've ah, I've got a bit of a headache so I'm just gonna rest for a bit. I'm all fine, uh, good night!" Alice slammed her door and locked it before Ivy could even respond.
On the very wall opposite her door was what Alice could only describe as a crack. It spanned nearly half the length of the wall and appeared to open nearly two feet. She had to squint looking at it- within its depths was the brightest white light, so bright it was impossible to see inside. Bordering edges was the very blue light she saw from underneath her door. Alice immediately dropped her cardigan to the floor, pushing it up against her door to prevent the crack's light from escaping her bedroom, alarming her grandmother to anything odd.
She didn't know why she felt the need to hide this discovery, she just did. She didn't know why she approached the crack, she just did. She didn't know why she touched the crack.
She just did.
And then, nothing.