Alice's hair fell about her as a chilling wind bit harshly at her cheeks. Cautiously, she wrapped the bundle in her arms tighter and continued down the quiet, empty London streets. She was little more than a dark mass, blending evenly with the shadows of the night. Perhaps it was for this reason that no one seemed to notice this bustling young woman as she proceeded hastily down the street. Perhaps, no one cared to bother with the unknown figure, and simply continued with their blissful lives. Either way, no one cast a single glance; not even when she slowed beneath a flickering street light and climbed the stoop to a dark building.
As the bundle in her arms began to whimper in protest, Alice smiled sadly and began to sing a soft lullaby to the infant child.
"Speak roughly to your little boy and beat him when he sneezes,
He only does it to annoy because he knows it teases.
Wow! Wow! Wow!
Wow! Wow! Wow!
He only does it to annoy because he knows it teases," she practically whispered. It was innocent and made no sense but it seemed to work just fine and the child settled back into slumber.
It is on this night that Alice forfeited her child. She did not show her face, nor give her name. She simply handed her daughter over, claiming the child was left for her but she didn't have the means to take care of her. She handed the child over, along with a letter from the child's mother addressed to the infant for when she was mature enough to read it. There, written elaborately across the envelope, was the child's name: Alisha.
It was this ash-colored building in which Alisha grew and matured. She was brought in during the same week as another infant. Growing up together, it was only natural they became either friends or foes; they choose the former.
Alisha and Claire shared a room, hopes, dreams, everything imaginable. They were each other's best and only friends. It was in their tenth year at the orphanage that another finally entered into their group.
Keiran was pale with light auburn hair and hazel eyes. He looked sourly upon the other shrieking children and chose instead to associate himself with Alisha and Claire. By some luck, they didn't seem mind him a bit. The three became attached at the hip until the day would come that others would come in search for tall, slender, perfect Claire.
It was at this age that an older couple had seen a Claire and asked if they could arrange a day to speak with her. Claire's light blonde hair was brushed to perfection, her nails trimmed and her face scrubbed clean before dressing in her best jumper for the occasion. Soon after a pleasant sit-down, the couple decided she was exactly what they had been searching for and agreed to adopt her. For the the first time, the duo didn't share everything.
Claire was elated, Alisha was hurt. The moment Claire departed was bittersweet. Unsure of any other way to help the distressed girl, Alisha was then granted the letter from her mother. The contents told the tale of an ill mother who simply could not provide for her daughter but promised to find her once she was well.
This new piece of the puzzle led Alice to believe there was hope. A hope she would cling to as the years passed and no one seemed interested in adopting Alisha or Keiran. When they were moved to another home, for older orphans and other troubled children. A type of boarding school hell which they were never allowed to leave. She held desperately to that fading hope on a yellowing sheet of paper. Because outside of this small ray of fading sunshine, there was too much darkness to ever find her way.