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Screaming.

Steam from the hot water fogged Alice's reflection in the bathroom mirror above the sink. She swiped her hand across the glass until there was a clearer image of herself showing through. The steam immediately returned, blurring the mirror completely. She frowned. Just for a moment, she looked down to shut off the faucet. The mirror was no longer blurred; yet he was there now behind her. Cerulean eyes caught her gaze, trapping her with an unseen and powerful force. In an instant, his hands were all over her. She felt his shaggy, flaxen hair sweep against her temple. She felt the biting and the groping. She smelled the alcohol mixing with the desire and fear in the room. She heard the vulgar words in her ears.

Her mouth fell open to plead with him, as it always did, but her words were cut short, just as his hands enclosed her throat.

Alice was ripped away from her dreams when she felt a familiar stinging in the palm of her hands. Wincing, she slowly uncurled her fists with a soft whimper. Three of her fingernails had broken the skin during the night, leaving her with crescent-shaped gashes as a reminder of the vivid dream.

Esme hadn't gotten much sleep on the night of the party. She spent most of her time in the doorway of the room, watching Alice pretend to be asleep. Esme feared that Alice would choke on her vomit, just as someone else's daughter did in a news program that aired not too long before. In the days that followed, Alice's night terrors began.

The dreams were always the same, and each night, she would wake up screaming. Her screams awoke the whole house, but it was Esme that was first into the room. Alice would be in the bathroom, and then suddenly, she was being rocked in her mother's arms as Edward and Carlisle stood in the doorway. After the third, sleepless night, Edward stopped running into the room, and after the fifth, Carlisle had had enough.

He believed the drugs were the root Alice's bad dreams. After another night of pacing in the doorway, he went out and bought a home drug test. He'd shown up at the back door with a box in a plastic, grocery bag, instructing Alice to take the test. From the kitchen counter, Alice had stared at her father with contempt in her eyes and venom on her tongue. She'd wanted to tell them right then. It would have ended the charade, and she wouldn't have been treated like a parolee in her own home. But the words didn't come. The thought alone made her want to tear her flesh away, so she took the box and slammed the door when she got to the bathroom. Of course it'd come back negative, but Carlisle still grounded Edward and Alice for the remainder of their summer vacation, so it would stay that way.

Alice got better at suppressing her screams, and over time, she stopped altogether. Somehow, she'd forced herself not to, not matter how bad the dreams would get. She clenched her fists together each night before she went to bed, as though she were preparing herself for battle. Despite the seemingly quiet nights, Carlisle sporadically tested Alice twice more over the course of the summer. She wanted to be mad at her father, but it was her own fault. Alice kept telling herself that if she would just tell, maybe she wouldn't always see disappointment in her father's eyes. Instead, she hid.

She slipped into a depression, having to keep her suffering a secret. She often retreated into the confines of her room with her dog, Sid. It was much easier to hide because she wasn't allowed to leave the house, anyway, but even Angela began feeling the effects of her withdrawal. Angela would call to see how Alice was doing, but the conversation was very one-sided. Angela figured that Alice couldn't speak the way they normally did because of her parents being around, so Angela began texting. Alice's responses took longer and longer to arrive, and whenever they did, they were much too brief as if Alice couldn't be bothered. Figuring Alice needed space, eventually Angela stopped making contact.

It was then that Alice became truly alone. She spent most of the days outside in the backyard with Sid or up in her room, drawing. Drawing was one of the activities that kept her sane. When she was younger, Alice thought that her future would lead her into fashion. The girls in her grade often told her that she was a shoo-in for the Best Dressed superlative senior year. She always had a great sense of style, which initiated the monthly fashion shows that were put together for Esme, Carlisle, Edward, and some of their friends. The clothes came from a combination of Alice's closet and her friends', who were the perfect models to work the catwalk. The "catwalk" had been only a long, cardboard trail that Edward helped tape together, and then glue on multi-colored glitter. All the kids had been washing and picking sparkles out of their hair for weeks after that, and to this day, Edward despised even mentioning the word "glitter".

Alice would sketch dress designs on computer paper and show them off to Esme, who noticed that the drawing skills excelled far beyond any twelve-year-old. Soon, though, Alice became bored with simply drawing dresses so she began to sketch Esme. That was the day she realized that her passion was in art. She gradually progressed from sketching faces to sketching scenery, and pretty soon, she was drawing whatever popped into her imagination. Being someone's wardrobe consultant or making outfits for some diva celebrity for the rest of her life would have definitely paid the bills, but there would be a void inside her that only art could fill. Lately, though, her sketches had lost their carefree nature. They had become rather dark and commanding.

A commotion outside the bedroom door jolted Alice to the present. Someone was marching back and forth in the hallway, noisily tumbling through rooms. Alice saw Sid sleeping near her feet as she sat up in bed. He barely acknowledged his master as she patted his head and threw her legs over the side of bed. As she stood up and stretched, she noticed a black and tan, ball python curled up near the nightstand. He was amongst a pile of discarded drawings and pencil shavings.

"How did you get in here?" she asked the snake, bending to pick it up. The snake uncurled itself and wrapped around Alice's wrist as she held the head in her hand. She felt his smooth skin against hers as he twisted and turned. His tongue slithered, darting out at her fingertips.

The footsteps in the hallway became louder as they neared her door. She heard Edward's voice before he came in, "Alice, have you seen-"

He walked into the room and immediately spotted what had comfortably wrapped herself around Alice's wrist. He exhaled deeply, frowning at the snake, as if he were on the brink of scolding a child.

"Missing someone?" Alice asked, holding up her arm as if to show off a new bracelet.

"Edgar, what're you doing in here?" He shook his head, walking over to them. Edward carefully took Edgar by the tail, in order to unwrap him from her wrist. When she was finally free, he observed the dried blood on the inside of her palm. "What happened to your hand?"

Reflexively, she pulled away from his grasp. "It's nothing," she lied. She was getting better and better at those.

He nodded twice, trying to decipher the odd look in her eyes. He couldn't be too sure, but it appeared to be vulnerability. That was the closest thing to a response he would get, but he expected as much. He reluctantly had adapted to these brief conversations with Alice by now. He was amazed that he had gotten nearly two, full sentences out of her so early in the morning.

Edgar slithered onto Edward's wrist, constricting a bit tighter than Edward would have liked. The snake was getting irritable. "Okay, okay, c'mon, let's get you back to your tank- hey, we're leaving in half an hour."

Edward left the room, shutting the door with his free hand. Alice grabbed her towel from the hook behind her door and went to the bathroom. Upon entering the room, she hung her towel over the medicine cabinet, covering the reflection. Alice hadn't looked into the mirror above the sink ever since that night. Other mirrors were okay, but it was the ones above the sinks that always made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She was always waiting for him to appear behind her.

Once she was out of the bathroom, Alice dressed into a standard pair of skinny jeans and a band t-shirt. She didn't want to make a big fuss out of the first day to add to the anxiety that was already building. She brushed through her damp hair, untangling every strand, and then quickly curled the ends. Even curled, her hair still tickled her lower back. Honestly, curling the ends was the only thing keeping her from sitting on her hair.

After giving herself approval in the mirror behind her door, Alice went downstairs to the kitchen to find Edward already there. He was at the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cereal. She didn't have much of an appetite at all in the weeks approaching the first day of school. She was much too nervous and her stomach was too anxious to keep anything down. As Edward noisily crunched away behind the counter, Alice opened the fridge door to retrieve a bottle of water. She drank, hoping it would settle the nerves in her stomach. Esme walked in as Alice was twisting the top of the bottle shut.

"You're not going to eat anything?" Esme asked, walking over to the coffee maker. She pressed a few buttons, and the machine came to life.

"I'm not very hungry," Alice responded, mostly to the bottle of water.

"Well, it's about that time." Edward gulped down the rest of his milk, tipping the bowl over his face. He walked around the counter to put his bowl into the sink, then went to kiss Esme on the cheek. "I'm officially not grounded anymore. See you much later, mom. C'mon, Alice, let's go."

"Be right there," Alice said.

Edward tapped the watch on his wrist before retreating out the back door. Esme faced Alice as the smell of hazelnut coffee saturated the air. Esme reached out, tugging lightly on the shirt that was falling off Alice's shoulder.

"Look how this shirts fits you," Esme sighed. "Why aren't you eating?"

Alice shrugged, "I told you, I'm just not hungry."

"For the past week?"

She shook her head, attempting to leave, but Esme pulled her back by the arm. Esme looked into deep pools of green, searching for the little girl she once knew. Everything appeared to be the same, but her eyes were void of that special spark. Biologically, Esme was not Edward and Alice's mother, and that was obvious to even the most unobservant of people. Esme's hazel eyes were nowhere near the shade of emerald that theirs were, and her caramel colored hair was obviously lighter than the darkened qualities of theirs, but Esme was never one to be concerned with such a technical word as "adoption". She was there to kiss away the pain from a scrape and she was there to attend countless school plays and she was there when they got home from a bad day at school and it was her arms that made the screaming go away.

"It wasn't drugs, was it?" Esme asked.

Alice tried to shrug out of Esme's grasp, just as she did to Edward earlier, but her mother wouldn't let go that easily. "Mom, I have to go-"

"I just want my Mary Alice back," said Esme, sadly. At the mention of the name only Esme would call her, Alice's heart ached. "Was it drugs?"

Alice almost got the words out of her mouth when the horn honked. With her mother slightly distracted, she slipped out of the grasp before walking out the back door.

xxxxxxx

Sun fought to break through the ominous clouds that morning, but the clouds were just as relentless as always. The usual suspects were in the school parking lot when Edward pulled into an empty spot. Edward's best friend, Emmett McCarty, stood towering over most of the small crowd that were scattered around the lot like ants. Emmett appeared to be an absolute goon, standing at six-foot-three with muscles filling his plaid, button-down shirt. His dark brown hair was closely cropped and slightly curly, making his dark brown eyes appear menacingly black. Everyone usually was intimidated by Emmett upon first meeting him. At times, he used that to his advantage. To his friends, however, he was nothing more than a gentle giant.

As the Cullen duo approached, Emmett smiled, revealing his deep-set dimples. Alice broke away midstride, halfway over to Emmett. He watched Alice walk away without the usual kick in her step. This was not the girl he remembered growing up around, whose infectious smile was bigger than his own.

Edward looked over his shoulder, expecting see Alice close behind, but realized that she across the lot, opening the school doors.

"Hello to you, too, Alice," Emmett said, sarcastically when Edward strolled up. They shared a quick handshake. "How rude, where's she going?"

Edward shrugged, "Probably to go find Angela."

"Is she still, uh…you know-" Emmett tapped two of his fingers against the inside of his forearm, pantomiming a needle to his vein.

"My fucking sister is not on crack, Emmett!"

"Okay, okay." Emmett laughed. "You're finally out of lock down. I still can't believe you got a whole summer for some shitty beer."

"The whole thing was your fault."

"Hey, I was just the humble host of the party. I forgot most of the night, anyway."

"You forget Carmen Esposito?" Edward said, giving a sly grin.

"No, I'm never gonna forget that," he said as he mirrored the grin, briefly raising his eyebrows.

"So how does it feel to be going on your fifth year of high school?"

"Feels like me kicking your ass, I bet." Emmett made a straight face, but there were traces of a smile. Edward had never been able to take Emmett serious when his dimples betrayed him.

"Aw, bring it on, super senior." Edward got into a karate stance as Emmett pat his thighs like a sumo wrestler. Something very old and very rusty caught Edward's eye, though, so he didn't see it coming when Emmett whacked Edward in the back of the head.

"Ow- what the fuck?" Edward cried out, rubbing his head. Emmett laughed, looking in the direction that seemed to captivate Edward so much. He soon laid eyes on a faded, blue pick-up truck.

Emmett rolled his eyes, slightly pushing Edward in the direction. "Well, don't just stand there like a pervert. I'll see you inside, man."

Emmett walked off, leaving Edward alone to give himself his own spirit-boosting talk. He quickly made his way over to the old pick-up truck, just as she was getting out of the car. It took about twenty seconds- he counted –for her to untangle her book bag's strap from the car door. When she turned around, she found Edward standing there.

"Hey, Bella," Edward lamely greeted her, immediately berating himself soon after. After talking, texting, and instant messaging over the summer, he swore that the first words he would say would be profound and meaningful. He would touch her hair, look into her big, brown eyes, and tell her how beautiful she looked that morning. He would put on a pair of aviator sunglasses, despite the lack of sun. His arm would go over her shoulder, claiming her as his girl. Instead, he just waited for her response as the red in her cheeks deepened.

For a while, Bella memorized every inch of his boyish face, as if he would disappear. The pictures they traded through their cell phones did him no justice. She had plans of her own, too. She would take his hand, intertwining their fingers, and would stand on her toes to kiss his cheek.

Instead, she settled for, "Hey, Edward."