...Ten years later...

If walls could speak, they would tell the tale of how a girl with her head in the clouds suddenly fell to earth and stayed there.

"Alice," my sister called from the top of the stairs. "Come and see, it's magnificent!"

Finally, my sister was getting married. It was cause for celebration in our household where there was only my mother, my sister and I. Although we lived comfortably, we knew the money would soon run out. I hurried up the stairs to find my sister brushing her fingers lovingly over her wedding dress. My sister was easily swayed by pretty dresses and the promises of carriages and estates. She hardly knew the man she was about to marry. But what could I tell her? I would marry anybody if that would ease mother's mind.

"Well don't just stand there in the doorway," said Lorina. "Come in."

I could see the wedding dress up close now. It was off-white in colour with light golden trim around the bodice. Small white beads had been sewn delicately onto the neckline. Lorina was going to be the prettiest bride in the country.

"We'll have to find a husband for you next," Lorina said in jest as she poked my side.

"Does Albert have a cousin?" I mused.

"Oh practical Alice. My dear, what has happened these past years? You used to be so adamant that you would marry for love. I can remember you paraded down the hallway and pretended it was your wedding day."

"All children play make-believe games."

"True. But you used to have such a romantic soul. Where has she gone?"

"I do not know, but there is no use for such a girl anymore."

The day my father died, mother had taken me aside and told me a secret I had never forgotten.

"I used to be just like you when I was your age." I somehow doubted that. Mother always walked with a straight back, and she never had a stain upon her dresses. Her hair was never uncoiffed. She knew what to say to everyone who came her way. Sometimes she would give just the slightest wave of her hand, or the sharpest eye to penetrate into the souls of the viewer. Mother has always been the epitome of grace in my eyes.

"There will come a day when you can't hang on to childish fancy anymore. Real life has responsibilities. Now that your father is gone, our lives will no longer be the same. You must learn to adapt, Alice."

"Yes mama," I had said.

I saw the life drain from mother's eyes. Imagination and fantasy, they were lies. Life and death, this was real. Life had responsibilities. I had responsibilities to make sure mother's eyes would not fall into such a state of despair again. And so, I picked up my toys, one by one, and shoved them into the toy box. I told mother to sell them for I did not need them anymore. She patted my head and smiled so sweetly.

"My Alice is growing up." I had never felt such approval from her. I wanted her to be proud of me as she was of Lorina. Lorina had all of mother's attention then. Lorina had always been a precocious child with very little time for games and flights of fancy. And so I changed. I adapted. Was I wrong?