Please read this author's note! I would like to say that this is what I believe what it was like way back when Alice was human. No, not every household but some. I've done a lot of research. I'm not saying everything is perfectly correct or even close to correct because I have not really seen what it was like in 1916 or talked to anyone that lived in that time. It did take me awhile to write this though so please give it a chance and then tell me what you think. That's all I wanted to say.

In November 1916, the day Woodrow Wilson was reelected I had been coming home from ballet with my heart feeling as if it was bound to bang chaotically out of my chest. I was very quite anxious to get home, to just get away. I wasn't very sure if I wanted to share the news about what happened with my mother being I had knew deep down that I should not tell her, remembering how she reacted to my dreams I had told her about a couple months back.

This experience was just a little bit different than the dreams. The dreams would predict way ahead unlike what had just happened not long ago.

So I can't tell mother… Just how else was I able to explain my early exit from the theater?

Something I knew was not right, in which knowing things before they happen could not be something I could have just ignored. I had been dreaming of things, predicting things before I had watched them really happen whether it was a couple minutes or a couple days before the prediction. Needless to say they would happen.

Today, I now saw something before happening. This time, I was not asleep at all. I was more awake than I've ever been in the past week, concentrating on each step and move my teacher, Farah Graham was teaching me and the class, asking if anyone if they please, to repeat what she just had showed us.

I, Mary Alice Brandon was about to take the offer until Judy Smalley was a bit quicker to speak up than me.

That's when I saw something play in my mind, taking over my sight and hearing around me…

Judy Smalley, starting out gracefully on the wooden floor in front of us as she preformed the grand allegro. For it had not even been five seconds seconds before she had miss-stepped and landed on her right ankle, a piercing scream ringing though my ears and bouncing off the walls, coming from poor Judy.

I was convinced it had happened being the vision was that clear, though when I snapped back into the present, dear Judy hadn't even started yet, but I could still hear the terrible scream ringing through my ears.

She just smiled, preparing herself. I couldn't move and my body stiffened while my heart had only begun to race.

She had started the grand allegro, just like I had seen.

"N-no." I choked, still stiffening, unable to move like I wish I could have. Even my voice was caught in my throat when I so much wanted to say something or at the least able to move, to stop for what I had seen.

It was too late.

She had fallen, landing on her right ankle, that same piercing scream echoing throughout the theater, ringing through my ears once again. Everyone had taken action, running to her as I had just stood there until I was able to move.

Alarming voices had come from every single person as Judy still let out more screams that turned into cries and pleas for help.

I hurried out of there, snatching up my belongings before taking off.

I took out the elastic band that tied up my long length hair, letting it blow behind me with the wind as I walked on the sidewalk along the narrow road in Biloxi Mississippi on my way home. I replayed what had happened. I still hadn't taken off my pink ballet slippers like I should've. I walked fast pace, continuing my journey home which wasn't very far just that it felt much longer later before I had finally reached my destination.

I walked up the steps to the stone house my mother and father owned, where I lived. Four white columns – two on each side of the walkway were in the front near the house gone upwards to the second story. A rose garden was neatly set up, wrapping around the front porch that I helped my mother plant when I was thirteen which was nearly three years ago.

The front door had been unlocked. I turned the knob, hearing the hedges vaguely squeak. I closed the door softly behind me, debating if I should hurry upstairs into my room without a sound or make my presents known.

"Mary darling, is that you already?" I heard my mother call.

I don't really have a choice, do I?

"Yes," I called back casually, taking a couple steps towards the stairs in front of me, "It's just me—if you don't mind, I'm going to head up to my room."

Oh please let me go up in my room without any more said, I mentally begged.

Before I had wanted to tell her, but after me actually being there, I decided maybe that moment wasn't the best time.

I need to be alone, I thought, perhaps take a nice warm bath, go through some of my clothes designs I've sketched, thinking maybe clearing my mind would be best for me.

Just as I had taken my first step on the carpeted stairs, my hand against the satin smooth wooden railing is when I heard the strong, high-pitched voice approach.

"May you come here please, in the living room?"

I slowly took in a breath and let it out.

"Yes, I'm coming." I slowly stepped down the one stair. I hopped my way into the white carpet filled living room, trying to act like my normal self. I forced a smile right before my mother came into view sitting on the blue sofa, reading a black leather book that I didn't care to read the title of.

She brought her eyes to me, her reading glasses staying at the tip of her nose. I managed to keep a smile on my face.

A blonde strand of her shoulder length hair had fallen in front of her face as her blue eyes – in which I had genetically inherited from, stared directly at me without blinking.

"You're home early." She stated expressionless, with her voice suspicious. "Had practice cut short?"

"I don't know," which I really hadn't. "I left before finding out."

I would have to be beyond foolish to lie to her. I would be punished if I were to behave in a way. Not to mention it's very disrespectful.

I watched her slender fingers take hold of her glasses, sliding them off her face; I suppose to get a better look at me.

"Why's that?" she asked, setting the glasses down on top of her book. "There must be a very good explanation."

I nodded. "There is. I really don't think you would like to hear it."

She waved her hand, motioning for me to continue.

I tried swallowing away the lump in my throat and even forced a little cough, hoping to clear it away, but unfortunately it was still there, even more known then before.

"Judy Smalley had fallen and hurt her ankle." I sighed, shaking my head to the dreadful memory when my mother's eyes widened. "I couldn't stay—I had to leave."

"That's awful!" She said before drifting off in thought for a moment. Then her eye brows were brought together, "Had you at least stayed, to check up on her?"

Guiltily, I slowly shook my head. I brought my eyes to look down at the carpet, a little ashamed at myself now that my mother had brought it to my attention that I hadn't stayed like I should have.

"Mary!" She had scolded me. "Why on earth hadn't you stayed?"

"I-I wasn't thinking like myself at that particular moment." I spoke softly, my head still hanging low with my eyes still looking at the carpet. "I just left without a thought coming to me."

It was silent so I brought my eyes to look at my mother who had raised an eye brow in which means there is at least one more question.

"Why?"

"I… don't really think you want to hear It."

"Mary," her voice was far from pleasant and I knew I was very well pushing it. "Tell me."

"I saw it happen." I spoke weakly, my voice low, "I-I didn't want to. It just happened."

She brought her eyes back to her book, another strand of her hair had fallen in her face and then she quickly pushed it behind one of her small ears. Then she picked up her glasses, slipping them on with her eyes still brought to her book. "Of course you seen it happen as the whole class saw it happen too."

"No." I shook my head. "Mother, I saw Judy Smalley hurt her right ankle before it actually happened—I don't know how but—"

She snapped her head up to look at me the same time she screamed, "Enough!"

My whole body tensed, my voice completely weak. "Do you not believe me?"

I felt ready to cry. If my mother wouldn't believe me... then who would?

"Enough!" She screamed again, sliding the book off her lap and got to her feet aggressively. "I said enough, Mary Alice Brandon!"

Cold tears had slid down my cheek.

"Stop crying!" She demanded, soon in front of me as we were now at eye level, wiping away my tears with her voice still unpleasant. "Your father and sister should be home very soon."

I was just a little bit taller than my mother, but not by much. I stood at four foot ten as my mother stood just a centimeter shorter than me.

The tears continued.

I sniffed once with a sob that I couldn't control. "Mother, I need you. I know you had told me not to talk about it, but who shall I talk about it with if not you?"

"No one!" Her voice was louder. "For heaven's sake, Mary you mustn't speak of this to no one! You need to keep quiet about this and not have any more of these incidents!"

"I-I can't." I sobbed. "They just happen—I can't cut it off."

Suddenly, her hand came in contact with my left cheek with a hard sounding smack, making my head swing to the right.

Mother was never an understanding woman and was also never very nice. She had just gotten worse when losing her sister, my Aunt Gloria in the sinking Titanic in 1912. I do remember how much more fun mother been before the tragedy, how nice she was...

"No more!" She ordered. "We won't talk of such things! Go up to your room and compose yourself, Mary! Before your father comes home!"

I slowly turned my head upright to look at her. I saw her eyes only show worry towards me. I just nodded. I slowly turned around; to and up the stairs I went, to my bedroom that was down the hallway to the left, my bedroom sharing some of the front part of the house. I could still feel the place where my mother had slapped me, still stinging.

I did what my mother told me to do. I wiped the tears from my eyes, composing myself.

Then I did what makes me happy.

Fashion.

Just the thought of fashion made me bounce over towards my Vogue fashion magazine that sat on my Powell Vanity table, taking off the uncomfortable ballet shoes. I pulled out and sat down on the stool, opening up the magazine to study the clothes, to look at every detail and maybe get some ideas for my sketches, though I've must have looked through it numerous of times already. It was the Vogue issue of this month and underneath it was their first issue which was released in September of this year.

After I had done that for an hour I decided to get working on my sketches for my clothes designs which I didn't add much to them before I decided I should get some shut eye. It was only a quarter until six, but I felt beat.

I slid under the covers of my pink sheets. I soon had drifted off in sleep that myself only craved.

An unfamiliar face kept appearing from the blackness with blonde hair, pale skin, and golden colored eyes. He was very handsome, but wasn't anyone I've ever seen. He had to be no older than twenty. His face kept appearing before fading back into the darkness and then repeating this for I wasn't sure how long until it faded for good.

I woke up with my eyes still closed. I wanted to continue the dream that really wasn't much of a dream at all, but I wanted to see the face again even though I had a perfect memory of the face.

Strangely, I felt I needed to see the face again.

It didn't come back that night like I wanted it to.

I opened my eyes to complete blackness of my own room, lying down in my bed. After mentally begging for it to come back for awhile I thought about the face and the dream, wondering if it was somehow telling me something. I knew I couldn't speak of it to no one just like mother had told me.

So I didn't. I didn't think of it much, not making a big deal of the dream simply because I knew I shouldn't. I was still very tired so I rolled over on my side, closing my eyes again.

I will ignore these premonitions best I can and try going on with my life without them, I decided.

And I did the best I could for awhile . . .

Could you please review? This is a one-shot for now until my other stories are finished. This will be continued one day but just enjoy it for what it is now which is, I repeat, a one shot.

Reviews mean the world to me so could you please review!

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