"Falling. That's all I've remembered since the night I killed my brother."
I sighed slowly, unevenly just to help the effect of pure dolefulness. I
really was sorry about my brother, but not the part where I killed him.
After all, he did deserve it. He was the one who took my home from me. When
he was born my parents gave the little brat my comfortable room and I was
left to fend for myself. I slept on whatever I could fine, until I
discovered the stack of hay outside the walls.which was formally used as an
insulator during the freezing winters. I set it up in the storage room as a
bed.so I could at least sleep.
It was cold.and to pass the time I would read. My favourite book was Alice.Alice in wonderland. Once I finished the book for the fifth time, I felt like I was her.and then, I met Alice.
It was a Sunday and Mother and Father had dragged me to the church. I was dressed in a ragged white dress, which barely touched my ankles. It was supposedly my best dress, but if Mother would quit being so stubborn and let me wear her grey dress then I would be better fit for Church. Anyway, once we arrived, I sat down on the cold, hard bench. The wood was neatly polished, with carvings of vines scattered across the top corners. I remember tracing my slender fingers along the roses that twisted beneath the vines. Church was one of the better memories. I felt safe and warm there, especially when the choir started to whisper the words of angels. The words seemed to pulse and come to life, wrapping each sweet melody around me. All of us would stand for the songs. We would read from the books set under the benches, singing the songs as sweetly as our hoarse voices could. My Brothers voice was horrible, it rung loudly, drowning out that of Alice's. Alice.she sat alone in one corner, at the back of the church. The back doors were close to her; four isles across from us and seven back. She always sat there, by herself, with her plain blue dress and white apron. They looked like work clothing.but much more fashionable than my hideous Church clothes.
Sometimes, when the Church had quieted, I would sneak out of my seat and out of the back doors, just to glance at her. Of course, when I returned to my seat, it was cold again and my Mother was not exactly happy. But, oh, just to glance at Alice.to see the dejected thing.it was almost magick.
"Alice?"
I snapped back to reality, returning my dull chestnut eyes to his horrid penetrating eyes. The psychiatrist still was racking his mind for the answers. He wanted to understand me so horribly.it was almost frightening. "Yes?" I answered quietly.
"Have you slept lately?" he asked, lowering his black rimmed eyeglasses with his pudgy little fingers. His cheeks puffed for a moment.he was holding his breath and waiting for my reply, impatiently.
"Not in five days, sir" my eyes slipped back to the floor and my head began to pound again. Perhaps my sanity was present for the time being, but it certainly wasn't going to last incredibly long. The conversation needed to end, before he caught on to my sudden urge to take a delicately sharpened blade and stab him repeatedly.
The short, plump man took his time, removing his glasses from his wide nose and twisting them between his fingers. He was attempting to look like he was thinking.although, it was clear he hadn't the brain to do such things. Finally, he allowed the sophisticated smartass toned words to escape his rose bud lips "I'd like to prescribe some drugs to help you get some sleep. Would that be alright, Alice?"
I would've disagreed to the prescription, but arguing with the doctor (even though he asked my permission) was unacceptable. So, I nodded my head weakly and pushed myself from the comfortable black chair. He smiled at me, as if he were proud and slipped a prescription in my hand.
"Have a good day, Jill"
Although I was slightly unsure of the name he had given me, I still left the expensively decorated room. Jill? Jill.it didn't sound familiar. Perhaps the Doc had merely forgotten her name. After all, she was Alice.wasn't she?
It was cold.and to pass the time I would read. My favourite book was Alice.Alice in wonderland. Once I finished the book for the fifth time, I felt like I was her.and then, I met Alice.
It was a Sunday and Mother and Father had dragged me to the church. I was dressed in a ragged white dress, which barely touched my ankles. It was supposedly my best dress, but if Mother would quit being so stubborn and let me wear her grey dress then I would be better fit for Church. Anyway, once we arrived, I sat down on the cold, hard bench. The wood was neatly polished, with carvings of vines scattered across the top corners. I remember tracing my slender fingers along the roses that twisted beneath the vines. Church was one of the better memories. I felt safe and warm there, especially when the choir started to whisper the words of angels. The words seemed to pulse and come to life, wrapping each sweet melody around me. All of us would stand for the songs. We would read from the books set under the benches, singing the songs as sweetly as our hoarse voices could. My Brothers voice was horrible, it rung loudly, drowning out that of Alice's. Alice.she sat alone in one corner, at the back of the church. The back doors were close to her; four isles across from us and seven back. She always sat there, by herself, with her plain blue dress and white apron. They looked like work clothing.but much more fashionable than my hideous Church clothes.
Sometimes, when the Church had quieted, I would sneak out of my seat and out of the back doors, just to glance at her. Of course, when I returned to my seat, it was cold again and my Mother was not exactly happy. But, oh, just to glance at Alice.to see the dejected thing.it was almost magick.
"Alice?"
I snapped back to reality, returning my dull chestnut eyes to his horrid penetrating eyes. The psychiatrist still was racking his mind for the answers. He wanted to understand me so horribly.it was almost frightening. "Yes?" I answered quietly.
"Have you slept lately?" he asked, lowering his black rimmed eyeglasses with his pudgy little fingers. His cheeks puffed for a moment.he was holding his breath and waiting for my reply, impatiently.
"Not in five days, sir" my eyes slipped back to the floor and my head began to pound again. Perhaps my sanity was present for the time being, but it certainly wasn't going to last incredibly long. The conversation needed to end, before he caught on to my sudden urge to take a delicately sharpened blade and stab him repeatedly.
The short, plump man took his time, removing his glasses from his wide nose and twisting them between his fingers. He was attempting to look like he was thinking.although, it was clear he hadn't the brain to do such things. Finally, he allowed the sophisticated smartass toned words to escape his rose bud lips "I'd like to prescribe some drugs to help you get some sleep. Would that be alright, Alice?"
I would've disagreed to the prescription, but arguing with the doctor (even though he asked my permission) was unacceptable. So, I nodded my head weakly and pushed myself from the comfortable black chair. He smiled at me, as if he were proud and slipped a prescription in my hand.
"Have a good day, Jill"
Although I was slightly unsure of the name he had given me, I still left the expensively decorated room. Jill? Jill.it didn't sound familiar. Perhaps the Doc had merely forgotten her name. After all, she was Alice.wasn't she?