An update on Alice and her rescuer. I hope you're all doing well and not drowning in midterms.
If you sneeze at any point reading this, bless you.
And on we go.
O.K.
The sound of Alice's heel tapping on the floor echoed throughout the open loft. Her hand was clenched in a fist on her bouncing knee, tissues still shoved up her nose. She tried to avoid catching her reflection, but it was impossible with the wall-to-wall windows and floor-length mirrors. She focused her gaze on her feet instead, mentally willing the dirt to disappear from her grimy shoes. Thankfully, she had managed to not leave any black footprints on the carpeting.
"You're going to make the neighbors downstairs think there's an earthquake."
Alice's gaze jerked up. Somehow she had managed to hear the woman over the cluster of noise filling her brain, tendrils of static spreading through her air and probing up her nose as it throttled her tongue.
"I'm sorry," Alice said.
"Here." The woman passed Alice a glass mug. The string to a tea bag was tied loosely around the handle, anchoring a bag of leaves inside.
She took a sip, wrapping her fingers around the burning glass. "I'm sorry you had to do that, get involved with this, I promise I'll be gone soon."
The woman smiled and eased down onto the loveseat in front of Alice. Every movement was fluid, a human feather drifting onto the leather seat. Her long blonde hair was pulled softly into a knot at the back of her neck with all the feminine beauty of an elite businesswoman at the peak of her power. It would make sense for this woman to be a CEO or something, judging by the state of the loft and the doorman who had managed to avoid staring too long when they had entered the tower of apartments. What type of one-percenter like this stopped to help random bleeding people on the street?
She wants something.
Alice clenched her mug, her fingers burning as the hot glass bit into her skin. You're in danger. She wants something from you, this woman is with them, police, someone, see the black and the end of this light and understand the tunnel you fall through—
"Oh dear, you're going to spill your tea."
Two hands reached forward to steady Alice's arms, clasping her elbows as her trembles slowly quieted. Alice jerked back. Something is wrong. Her chest was burning. She could see the static in the edges of her vision, threatening to swallow the sweet face smiling in front of her. Rosy cheeks and gentle eyes. Snake.
"Breathe, dear. You've been to hell and back, you're having a panic attack. Just breathe."
Alice, despite herself, sucked a whistling breath between her teeth.
"There you go. In and out. Breathe from your bellybutton out, deep breaths. Easy." A soft hand rubbed circles on Alice's back. Static faded from the edges of her vision as the world righted itself, her chest easing to only the dull pressure of withdrawal.
"Shhh, there you go," the woman murmured. Her hand pulled the mug away as she wrapped Alice's sweaty palms between her own slim hands.
Expensive perfume filled Alice's nose, erasing thick scent of blood and Kleenex. She couldn't remember the last time she had been mothered, and now, within the past few hours, two strange women had clasped her cold hands within their own. Anchored her to reality and silenced the screams that rocked her sanity. The idea made her shift in her seat and pull back, but the woman hung on.
"My son had similar attacks when he was young. It was an absolute terror to try and break him out of them, I think I may still have some of his medication somewhere, actually. Hold on." She was gone again, up in a wave of expensive designer clothing and citrus perfume. Alice breathed.
It was anything but a panic attack, but she wasn't about to share that. No need to inform the woman who had rescued her from the police that she was haunted by voices in her head.
She wouldn't think of Jasper's face either as he watched her drive away, or of Esme's warmth as she had silenced the chaos in her mind.
They were strangers, they had no business wading into her problems like ducks on a pond. These were her depths to explore, she would not allow them to entertain their savior complex. Especially that Esme woman. Didn't she say she worked at a church? Of course, she does. She seems like the shallow type; she's probably gossiping about the strange girl already. Visions of Esme giggling and waving a hand over the counter as she and Jasper recapped their simply preposterous day filled the space behind Alice's eyelids.
She just needed to leave, as soon as possible, so she could get back to the streets and look for Bella.
Alice stood, the door looming at the end of the hall directly in front of her—a clear shot.
She studied the knob, glanced in the direction the woman had disappeared in and turned around.
The windows swallowed her small frame as she pressed her toes against the molding along the floor, careful not to leave any trace of her breath against the glass as she stood as close as she dared.
If she pretended, for a moment, that the glass was not real, that the corners were only the skeleton to an apartment in the sky, she could nearly believe she was flying. Somewhere, above a city pulsing with ribbons of life as cars maneuvered the streets and distant lights flickered on against the approaching evening, she could exist beyond it all.
Alice crossed her arms as a shiver ran down her spine. How many people, how many stories were playing out beneath her in that instant? How many endings, beginnings, crisscrosses in time?
Was this what movie stars felt like, staring at the world from the opposite side of the screen?
"That view really never gets old. I could spend eons staring at it."
Alice spun, cheeks bright red. "God, sorry, I just…" She trailed off, unsure why she was apologizing, yet ashamed to be caught in her fantasy.
The woman, always smiling, held out her hand—two small white pills cupped inside.
"They're Xanax, a low dose, I promise. They might just make you feel a bit tired," the woman reassured her, misunderstanding Alice's hesitation.
She was all too familiar with the pills, not that it mattered.
It never mattered, as long as they did something.
She could feel the sweat under her arms and on her chest as a shiver traveled down her body, snot threatening to drip from her nose. She could only imagine how ghastly she looked under the bright lighting, between the withdrawal and the nosebleed.
She wants something.
No drugs were ever free. Nothing was ever free.
"I'm okay. I just need to get going, I'm sorry you got involved in this mess." Alice shook her head, turning to leave.
"Hun." The woman grabbed Alice's arm. The grip was too tight to be real, it had to be over-sensitivity due to the panic in her brain, still, Alice couldn't help but flinch as cool fingers dug into her bicep.
"You're in no state to go wander the streets, you need to calm down. Please, allow a mother the chance to take care of someone." Did this woman ever stop smiling? Did her eyes ever show anything other than unending kindness?
Images of warm fires and mugs of tea filled Alice's mind—designer dresses and laughter over television shows as mother and daughter held hands, grinning. She shut her eyes against them.
"Be honest with yourself, hun. You won't find anyone in this state. You're falling apart."
I'm falling apart.
Alice opened her eyes and took a deep breath.
She never accepted help from anyone. She could handle herself, and this woman had no business trying to care for her.
But she couldn't find Bella when she could barely find her way out of her own mind.
The pills slid easily down her throat, no water needed. Alice allowed the woman to lead her back to the couch as she pulled a blanket over her, tucking it around Alice's shoulders.
"Thank you," Alice murmured haltingly.
"Oh, hun." The woman traced a finger against Alice's cheek, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. "Call me Hera."
"Thanks, Hera." Alice could feel the Xanax still to kick in. A cloud of bleak smoke swallowed her brain, encouraging her to bury her thoughts in the murkiness of her mind. She grabbed the edges of the blanket around her shoulders, her heavy fingers dragging with the movement.
"There you go." The woman, Hera, stood, grabbing a cream-colored pillow from another chair and propping it behind Alice. "Lay down for a bit and rest. I promise, when you wake up we can go look for your sister. Right now, please, just rest."
Alice nodded dully.
The last time. This was the last time she would do this, so she could find Bella.
"Okay." She agreed. In the warmth of the blankets and the heaviness of her bones, Alice wondered why she ever suspected this woman of anything. Why she ever suspected anyone of anything.
"Get some sleep," Hera murmured, flicking off the lights as she turned to stare out the windows at the city, throbbing with light and noise unheard from within the enclosed loft. "Gods know you've earned some rest."
A shorter chapter, as it felt like a good place to end and I didn't like the way it was flowing originally when I combined it with what I originally had planned out.
All of your thoughts, reviews, favorites, and reads are beyond appreciated. Thank you for your kind words and your unending patience.
Until next time,
O.K.