Author's Note: I promise, this is the last story I'll be starting for awhile. Updates only, from now on, unless I just can't resist. Tell me what you think, please :o)

Prelude: Only The After Life

Vampire Crayons

…

Some stories have happy endings, and an unfortunate few, however, do not. I cannot say which is which for my own past because I simply do not remember. Occasionally I spend my twilights imagining a human life for myself, with a smiling family and warm kisses on both of my fleshy cheeks from my non-existent relatives. I place Jasper beside me while I hold a squealing baby with blonde hair and blue eyes, tall and leonine as always as we pose for a portrait in our Sunday's best. I would have named him Edward and hoped for him to grow to become the perfect gentleman my brother is, today. But, I know, its painful to plant false hopes like little seeds into my imperfect mind; yet as long as I exist I'll always be wondering 'what if'. What if I was never thrown into the asylum where my creator found me and I never left to behold my savoir, my handsome Jasper? What would happen if all my memories were intact and I lead a life of living and dying? Again, I can't answer this- I can't recall ever being human. I only see the hole and all its glorifying black depth and feel the dirt under my pale inhuman fingers while I lifted my new self out of the dark, like I had done so long before. This is the only life I have ever known, and will, in all probability, remain so.

Mary Alice Brandon Cullen

…

Chapter One: Death Defying Damp

I would be damned, oh wait, I already am, if they would try to drag me to the electrocuting chair, today. My hair still smelled foul like ash from the last stunt that singed my hair. But my vision only showed me the same nondescript door it had been predicting for the past week. So I don't expect anything less than what it's always been. The burning stink wasn't as bad as when I decided to go on my first- and I'll say only hungry strike. They force-fed me raw eggs until I was sick and forcing it back up. The attendants could've let me starve like they did so many other "patients" before me. But the death toll was rising and they didn't want the infamous Mary Alice dying before they all had a chance to shine.

That's right, they mocked me! In the papers! Insane Brandon Girl Pleads She Sees the Future, Progress on the Mary Alice Case, Is she Insane- Or Just lying?

Mr. Krimley- my dutiful watch man- always tossed the latest headlines into my cell through the barred windows, knowing how fueled it gets me. I kick, punch, and scream at the whitewashed walls until orders come and he can restrain me: usually resulting in bruising and groping. Of course, I fight back until more force comes and the medical nurse enters to sedate me. I don't mind the morphine and the other drugs contaminating my system- it's, actually, an all time high for me. Even though when the medication wears off my temples throb painfully, it's better than being touched by that sick man.

I had everything about this place, including myself. My lustrous black hair that once waved down to my tailbone, now sticks out at odd angles from weeks of bed-head. The only showers I am allowed are once a month and scorch my skin or turn my lips to an azure blue. In fact, even the actually insane prisoners here are healthier this place and all its civil workers.

I wish I could run, scratch myself out of these stonewalls and take down a few with me. The most I could do was shuffle my cankered ankles forward toward my next unwanted destination… I was an elite in here- and that's no honor: one of the untamable ones. This mustang would not be broken. I was always one step ahead of the others with my power of premonition.

"Off somewhere new today, aren't you Mary Alice?" Krimley whispered darkly in my ear, the booze fogging his breath. Alcohol was impossible to sneak into their little sanitarium of torture. I was the only one that saw him pilfering the bottles of golden brand from the medic's cabinet.

Somewhere new? I questioned with myself. If only my visions were a little more helpful and a bit less vague.

"We're teaching you how to swim today," he cackled, rubbing a calloused finger down my tensed arm that was caught is manacles behind me. "Don't you like to swim?" All the patients I had met, if they weren't mental cases before, certainly came out of the 'pool area' one. No one was as strong or as confident as me, though. I could take it, just as long as I got my usual fix afterwards.

My two attendants roughly pushed me inside the cheep wooden door, and before I could take in my surroundings, my head was thrust into bone chilling water.

I wasn't prepared, coughing and sputtering as they pulled me out of the water basin. I tried to drag in a deep breath causing me to choke some more. I gasped and dove headfirst again by their hands at my neck. I attempted to struggle free of my captors, but to no avail.

"Mary Alice Brandon, you cannot see the future!" One shouted in my ear as he yanked me out of the water with a fist of my short hair. This was my chance to respond.

"I can, I can see the f-." I wallowed in the death defying damp. The air surrounded me another time.

"You cannot, you impudent girl!" I felt the welt starting the form from the slap I received. I screamed in pain and argued back. This time, instead of drowning me, they shoved me to the full and proceeded to kick me in the ribs and back. I whined and protested and soon fell silent hoping they would stop when they thought I was unconscious.

"Didn't see this coming, did you?" the familiar growl of my guard said while he stomped on my leg. A bloodcurdling scream resonated from within me.

"Stop, stop!" Somebody new commanded, and I was surprised it wasn't me. "What are you doing to this patient? This is a mental institution, not a boxing match!" My attackers scuttled out of the room like scolded puppies with tails between their legs at the force of the voice. My one eye was swollen and the other was shut with as much force as I could muster.

"Alice, are you alright?" Nobody ever called me Alice, the name I preferred. I only shuddered in reply as his icy fingers hoisted me up into his arms. "Come, with me, I will help you." I didn't need help, I only needed freedom: something these idiotic doctors didn't understand. But I didn't have a fighting chance with the new man.

"M-m-morphine," I chattered through my frantic teeth. I needed something to stop the pain of this internal wound. How people could be so cruel, it killed me everyday until the sharp stab of a sterile needle resurrected the life in me, to an extent. Home with my parents, when I had once thought they loved me, was peaceable and I was exuberant. But when the visions began to occur, they distanced themselves from me. Even my beloved sister, Cynthia ceased to adore me. The tightly drawn line snapped when one premonition depicted our neighbor's death. They scorned me and told me to keep quiet or the others would wonder about me. However, the tables turned when old Mrs. Partridge was found dead with a fever and open eyes in her bed, just like I had seen. In fear, they sent me to the local Mental Asylum, and not once have they come to visit me. Not once have I ever seen the light of the sun since that fateful day, and I never will. I have a feeling that I will die here. Not an exact future, but I am so sure, none-the-less.

"I can't give you any now," The attractive husky voice sang. "I need you to talk, and when we're done I'll make sure you're properly sedated."

"Thank you," I croaked, snuggling closer to my savior. When I finally opened the one eye that I could, I saw the unmistakable face of a seraph- someone new to the institution. Did some unknown power send me a hero? Only concern etched deep in his face.

Save me, save me, you have to save me! I pleaded with my eyes. His own dark burgundy pair seemed to reply, yes. I am here for you, Mary Alice Brandon. I am here.

Music for this chapter, closest I can find: Fast as You Can; Fiona Apple