Author's note
This has been sitting in my laptop for years now and I finally got around to finishing it.
I'm not the biggest twilight fan, but ever since learning about Alice's backstory I was curious. I wanted to know more, and obviously Stephanie Meyer wasn't going to write it so I turned to fanfics. The one thing I wanted to read was Alice having a reunion with her human family, but there were a few. I wasn't satisfied… So I decided to write one myself. This is my take on it; I decided to make her father be regretful of his actions. I hope you enjoy.
"Mother said she'd be up ahead, in that boutique, father," a middle aged woman said to her father as they walked through the streets.
The elderly man looked towards the boutique, and smiled, "Of course dear. I'll be right there, you go on ahead."
She looked at him puzzled, "Are you alright father? You seemed tired. Maybe we should go back, and wait for mother at the diner."
"I'm fine Cynthia," he gave her a reassuring smile and nudged her forward, "Go on now. You have to buy some gifts for your husband and children before we leave."
She gave him a small smile, and went ahead, only looking behind her a few times before she stopped.
The elderly man walked at a slower pace his mind wandering off. George was in his seventies, and that was impressive as most of his friends died off years ago; he outlived them all. Maybe it was his punishment, for all his wrongdoings.
And he was tired alright; what he was tired of, he wasn't sure.
Maybe, it was due to his regrets. He had lived a life full of regrets. He had immersed himself into the social hierarchy and his business so much that he had become cold. He made many decisions that he later regretted. This feeling of remorse and guilt never occurred till he sent his eldest child away; even then the feelings started and lingered.
His first regret was losing his love for his first wife. Emma was a beautiful woman, and very soft spoken. He remembered their first meeting; her black hair was flying in the air from a breeze that blew her hat away. He caught her hat, and promptly returned it. From there, as he laid eyes on her he fell in love. It was months later when they had gotten married.
In the beginning, they were so in love and she had given birth to their first child, Mary Alice Brandon. As years went by, he had immersed himself in his business and began to think more of how to improve their social standing. This had made him distant to his then wife, who was caring for his newborn child.
He grew to be cold and calculating, and his relationship with his wife lost its spark; a spark that was rekindled with Laura, his second wife.
His second regret was having his first wife killed. His relationship with her had gone cold, even after Emma gave birth to his second child, Cynthia. His greed for a higher social standing had made him impatient and unforgiving on her ways of raising their children.
He had sought comfort in another woman, a beautiful blonde from Illinois. He was conducting his business with her father when he had bumped into Laura. With her sultry smile and fluttering lashes, he began an affair with her. In time, he grew to be fond and affectionate towards her. Eventually, he realized he wanted to marry this woman. This woman who was the opposite of his wife; this woman who was boisterous, loud, and outgoing as opposed to his soft spoken, and tender wife.
He had lost all affection for his wife, and plotted to have her killed. After all, divorcing his wife would affect his standings and what better way to go up the social ladder than marrying his mistress who was from an influential family?
The way he dealt with his first born was his next regret.
His first wife bore him two daughters: Mary-Alice and Cynthia. They were beautiful, even if they weren't the sons he had wanted. Mary-Alice was a special child, with a very imaginative mind. In the beginning, he tolerated it, until things started happening; things she began to say. And Emma only kept encouraging Mary-Alice's ridiculous ideas.
Mary-Alice.
That name bore heavily into his mind and guilt began to form as he grew older. Mary-Alice was his first-born. He was upset that she wasn't born male, but he grew to love her as he held her in his arms. As years went by he grew wary of her as she was always giving predictions –correct ones at that– and that love grew smaller and smaller as she got older. When Cynthia was born, he directed all his affections and attention towards her, and kept Mary at a distance. He grew to be indifferent towards her and continued with his affair.
He tried to dissuade her from spouting out nonsense, to make her… normal, but his wife kept encouraging her. He no longer felt affection towards his wife when Cynthia was born. As he continued on with his affair, he grew to detest his first-born; the knowing look in her eyes as he returned from his affair and when he finally paid to have his wife killed.
He was hoping with his previous wife out of the way, she'd be normal, but that hope faded as days passed. He continued to resent her existence. Not only was she not normal, she was ruining the family name. Her ridiculous 'predictions' which led everyone to believe that she was the devil's child for causing so many deaths she foretold.
He had no choice to kill her. But that plan was foiled as she 'predicted' it. Instead, he convinced the town and the constable that she went insane and became unstable after her mother's death. With her reputation for being odd and her silly 'predictions', it was quite easy. With that, she was sent off to the asylum, and he was washed off of her existence.
Of course this guilt never formed till years after he sent Mary away. Years went by, and all of a sudden he felt burdened and tired. This burden, he thought, was from sending his child away, and went to retrieve her. Only to discover the massacre.
In the beginning, he had planned to visit her from time to time, to see the aslyum's progress with her treatment, but he kept putting that off for a few years and ignored any news of the asylum. By the time he planned to visit, he found out about the asylum massacre that occurred the day he left his child there and he lost his chance. Maybe that was a good thing, his mind would say but his heart would ache for the loss of his child.
Yes, he planned to kill her and had grew to resent her existence, but as the years of her absence went by he began miss her. At first, he ignored her absence and grew to forget about her, but as time went by little things began to remind him of her.
It has been nearly thirty years now and he still felt guilt.
He looked up to the sky and wondered, was she still alive? They never recovered her body, and he had hoped she would return to them if she was alive.
He finally entered the store and looked for his family. Cynthia was by the change room, waving for him.
"Aren't you trying anything on dear?" he asked his daughter.
She shook her head, "Mother's been modeling her clothes to me."
A door opened and thinking that it was his wife, they ceased their conversation.
Instead they heard a feminine voice call out, "Jasper, what'd you think?"
The voice sounded familiar, yet… foreign to him.
"Darling, no matter what you wear, you'd still be beautiful," a male voice with a southern accent drawled out.
"You're so sweet," the other voice giggled.
A few minutes later, they saw a young couple coming out the hallway. The young female was holding the man's arm as she giggled into it. As they walked out, she bumped into him.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" the young lady said as she lifted her head up.
His heart stopped as he laid eyes on her. The face staring at him looked exactly like his daughter.
"Mary," he breathed out, but there was no recognition in her eyes.
She stared at him confused before the gentleman by her side steered her away.
He continued to stare at her as she went to pay for her clothes.
"Father?" Cynthia's voice called out and that was when he snapped out of his daze.
"Mary… Mary!" he startled Cynthia.
"Father, Mary's gone. She has been for years now," she said slowly confused.
He pointed his shaking finger in the direction of the young lady and Cynthia looked.
She gasped, "That… That's not possible, she shouldn't be…" She looked over the Mary look-alike's face. It was Mary but at the same time, it wasn't. "Father, it can't be… She disappeared…"
Cynthia couldn't believe it. Though she was young when her older sister disappeared, she could recall all her features. She loved her very much, before their father had to send her away.
"Mary! Mary!" He continued to say, ignoring his youngest daughter.
The young couple exited the boutique, and as quickly as he could with his cane he followed suit, Cynthia following him in shock.
"Mary! Mary! It's you!" He grabbed the look-alike's arm.
She looked at him confused, "I'm sorry, but I'm not this Mary."
Cynthia caught up, "I'm so sorry about that, he has problems with his memory at times." She had just brushed off this look-alike as just a doppelganger; it just can't be Mary. She laid her hand on her father's shoulder, "Father, no matter how much she looks like her, no matter how much we want it to be, this can't be Mary. Mary would be in her fifties and she's been gone for decades. And look her eyes aren't the same colour."
He released her arm, and apologized. He received a dazzling smile; so much like Mary's. Though his daughter made valid points, he still couldn't shake the feeling that this young lady was his daughter.
"Jasper! Alice!" A voice called out.
Alice. That was her name. Alice was part of Mary's name as well... His feelings intensified more.
Jasper murmured, wanting to steer her away from the two that had stopped them, "darling let's go."
'Alice' gave him a bright smile before responding to the voice, "coming!"
"I'm sorry, we must be going," the Mary look-alike said, "I hope you find this Mary person!"
The two walked away before 'Alice' stopped. What happened next cemented his feelings. She twirled to face them and warned them with a knowing smile, "you best find shelter soon or get an umbrella, it's going to rain very soon."
She then twirled back around, almost like a ballerina, and started pulling her friend's? Boyfriend's? Husband's? hand towards the group.
Mary had said something similar to this before. Mary even liked to twirl like that. Maybe this was truly Mary?
He could hear the lookalike's giggle and the couple started jogging towards the group ahead. His heart stopped when Alice reached the group. Upon reaching she bounced on her feet a couple of times before twirling again.
That was another quirk that her mother encouraged; something that he tried to stop. Something that stopped after her mother died. Seeing it again was nostalgic. It had to be her.
He couldn't look away. There were just too many similarities. He stood there with his daughter; both staring at the group. They seemed close, almost... Family-like...
They watched as they took out their umbrella and opened it. The group had earned some weird looks, but after a few minutes, the already cloudy sky turned dark and it began to rain.
"There's not a cloud in the sky, there's no need for the umbrella," he told his wife and daughter unamused.
"It's going to rain today, I can see it," the young Mary had said with a knowing smile.
Author's Note: I'm actually thinking of making another chapter of this; maybe about Alice visiting the father on his deathbed? I don't know yet. For now, this is complete. Let me know what you think about this story!