What if Alice had never been in an asylum …
My Alice is based upon the brilliant mind of Stephanie Meyer, I've just given Alice a past!
Alice's Story
Chapter 14: Travel
I thought I'd feel triumphant.
Instead I was frightened.
I became hyper-aware of all sounds, dizzily attempting to identify them: the whinny of a horse, the hoot of an owl, or the circulation of my own blood.
Even my former ally, the wind, had turned on me. It swirled and hushed my name as it flirted all around me, sending electric shocks of fear up and down my spine; its fickle tendrils grazing my neck. I clutched my meager belongings to my chest as I hurried down the street. The darkness was playing tricks on my vision. I was seeing mystery and danger in every corner. I couldn't wait to get to the train station.
Calling it a train station was really a misnomer. Yes, trains stopped there, but it was mostly just to unload supplies. Father referred to the train route through Biloxi as a 'milk run'. They had a few small compartments for travelers and I was imagining myself sitting in one this very moment.
I moved as quietly as possible, barely letting my feet touch the ground. It wasn't far, but the anxiety was building. Each step hastened a scream that seemed to be building in the back of my throat. If I could just make it to the train station and pay for my ticket, I would be ok, right?
I hurried, walking right down the middle of our main street. I passed our general store, a barber shop, a diner called Biloxi Bill's, and Dr. Weber's office. There were no lights, no sounds, just the wind teasing the ruffles of my skirt. The train station was in the distance, and I could see a faint light. It was a much-needed glimmer of hope.
I stopped as I got to the stairs that led up to the station, peering around the staircase, wondering what was ahead. I was so scared that I couldn't 'see' anything. I knew I had to calm myself down; big emotions clogged my ability to foresee. I stepped back in the shadows and took a deep breath; I put my bag down and closed my eyes. I let my mind hear Cynthia playing the piano. As I relaxed, my blonde dancer twirled into my vision, extended his hand and asked for a waltz. I willingly obliged.
I had found my center. After I walked up the stairs, I would be able to buy a ticket to Mobile and I would only have to wait until 12:05 a.m., just 30 more minutes.
I purchased my ticket. The man behind the counter was appraising me, clearly wondering why a young woman was alone in the middle of the night, buying a train ticket. But grizzled years of working a train station usurped his curiosity. I asked how long it would be once I was on the train. He estimated that with two more stops, the train would arrive in Mobile at around 7:00 a.m.
I sat on the lone bench outside the station, waiting impatiently for the train. I put my bag in between my feet while I waited. I wanted to dance some more, so I closed my eyes and searched my mind for his face. I found him. But his countenance was foggy … no … no! The hands! I clutched at my throat and held my breath.
I had believed that if I successfully left my parents home, the clawing hands would be gone forever.
I was afraid to close my eyes again. As my breathing returned to normal I made myself search my mind. Even though it scared me, there was something different about these hands. My nightmarish memories of the hands had never included my knight. He had never co-mingled with the hands. What did that mean? I didn't understand it; I only knew that I wasn't as afraid of the hands anymore.
I sat on that wooden bench, avoiding splinters and wondering about my future. I was tied up in knots - in a good way. Even with my eyes open I could see the hands, there was something non-threatening but urgent about them, these were not the same hands I had been seeing for so long. I squinted my eyes, trying to figure out the difference and nearly fell off the bench at the sound of the train whistle.
I was on my feet before I knew it, panting and backing away from the sound, disoriented. Experienced men jumped off the cars, walking beside the train as it finally slowed to a stop, eager to get their work done. I watched in quiet awe as the burly men literally threw boxes and boxes from one set of arms to the next. They had the train unloaded and reloaded within an hour.
The ancient man who had sold me my ticket hollered "all aboard!" The noise of it made me jump and motored me to the train. He looked at a shiny gold pocket-watch as he absently motioned me toward the train. I stepped off the stair taking in the massive machine and wondering which car was for human cargo. Another old man stepped onto the steps of the car motioning me toward him. I looked at him and then turned to look at the ticket man, back and forth. They had to be twins, at the very least brothers. It was almost unnerving.
I reached to grip the handrail and heave myself and my bag on board. He motioned at some seats inside the car. He never said one word. I walked in and sat down on the closest bench. I was the only one in the cramped space. Everything was so unfamiliar. My heart beat in my head as I waited for the train to start up and take me away.
I looked around the car. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the color scheme. Some of the seats were red, some were blue and there was one lone dirty yellow seat right across from me; in fact, dirty seemed to be the theme for the space. I held my bag close to me, feeling the security as if it were a child's blanket.
Finally the train chug-chugged itself to life. Once it found its rhythm I was able to relax. I never put my bag down, but my knuckles were no longer white with the tightness of my grip. I closed my eyes again, trying to unknot my stomach as I settled down for a long ride. I was very curious about the subtle differences in this new vision. I was completely awake as my eyes roamed my eyelids searching for the suddenly unfamiliar – yet familiar picture of my probable future.
As I critically eyed each nuance and difference, I realized that it was the aftermath of the hands that was the most changed. In the original dream, the dark cold room - definitely the result of the clawing hands - was completely oppressive. The feel of the room was like a cold fog dragging me down into a thick liquid swallowing me and stealing my sparkle and then my breath. I would 'wake' from the vision feeling drained and hopeless.
In this new dream, the hands were almost helpful. They carried me to a place so brightly lit it was almost unnatural. There is no sound at all, no awful mewling building to a numb and cold existence. I can feel a biting pain, but even though it's excruciating there's a warmth and friendliness to it. Maybe I feel that way, because my porcelain prince is always a hazy silhouette watching over me, or maybe … maybe I hadn't changed my destiny at all.
I was not asleep, but it would be easy to assume I was. The long train ride was over. I had spent the entire trip analyzing what I was seeing, not even noticing stops or accelerations. When the train man bumped my elbow I quickly opened my eyes to look at him.
"We're here Missy. We made good time. Is someone meeting you?" He said looking away yawning.
I looked out the window of the car. It was still dark.
"What time is it?"
The train man pulled out his identical shiny gold pocket-watch, scrutinizing it closely as if he was unable to read the hands on the face.
"5:19. Is someone here to meet you?"
I didn't answer. No one was here to meet me. No one knew I was here. No one.
Please review! This is my first foray into a published work … I'd love to know your thoughts!