[Disclaimer] Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight. I just like to mess around with her characters and turn them into lesbians.
[A/N]
Happy weekend to all of you! Thank you for taking the time to read my little story here.
Today's update is dedicated to my bestie Vampgirl79. I am so happy you love the new story.
5
"Where have you been for so long in this storm?" Father asked when I sat down at the dinner table. After starving all day long, I felt famished now. My new friend had been polite and welcoming to me. Still, she didn't offer me anything to eat or drink at her house.
"Mary Alice, answer your father when he asks you a question."
I mumbled an apology and dunked a piece of corn bread into my soup. "I got surprised by the rain and had to stop by the creek house to avoid getting wet."
The lie went smoothly over my tongue. It was wrong to speak the untruth, but inevitable. My parents had made it clear, there would be consequences should I claim to be able to predict the weather again. What those consequences would include, I was unsure of. There was darkness in my vision. Like my sight, mentally or physically had been blind-folded. In some of the premonitions, I could see myself drowning while I was tied to a wooden plank.
"How's the new neighbor like?" Mother asked me, pulling my little sister's chair closer to the table. "I heard she lives alone out there. Maybe we should help her to find a decent maid."
I slurped my soup. It was warm and salty; the way blood always tasted to me in my visions. I dropped my spoon and shuddered. I was beginning to get scared of myself.
"Isabella says she doesn't need a maid."
"Isabella?" Father asked, wiping his mouth on a napkin. "Mrs. Cullen has already asked you to call her by her first name? That must mean you behaved appropriately for once."
He petted my left hand and grabbed the newspaper from the table to read it.
"A woman shouldn't be living alone though. Why isn't she staying with her family?" Mother wanted to know. She managed to eat her own dinner while she was simultaneously keeping Cynthia from kicking her feet under the table.
"She's widowed." I told my parents. "Her husband died in the war and the rest of her family were victims of the influenza wave in Chicago."
"Chicago." My father spit that word like it was dirt on his shoes that he needed to rub off. "Of course some Yankee Suffragette had to buy that god damn creek house."
He thrust out his chest. Tonight he was in an awful mood. The shop wasn't doing well in the months following Christmas. People were short on money and there was no reason for them to spend the little they had on jewelry. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." He exclaimed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. "This is a scandal. I don't know why the newspaper is even printing this nonsense."
Mother pinched her lips together. Her jaw clenched. She was doing her best to keep his temper at bay but it wasn't always easy. When he was agitated like this it was difficult. "Please put the newspaper aside, Darling and let us eat."
"My appetite has vanished. Julianna, take away my plate. Thank you." He wiped sweat from his forehead. "I wonder where the Yankees are going to stop. After giving Negros and women the right to vote, what's next? Will dogs and cows be allowed to attend elections too?"
I giggled behind my napkin. "Dogs can't read. Women can. I would like to vote. I bet it's exciting."
The vein in my father's forehead looked dangerously close to bursting. I don't know what he feared more; me being crazy or the risk of me becoming a suffragette.
"Mary Alice, no respectable woman in Mississippi will ever vote. A lady knows her place."
Mother nodded her head. I didn't want to become like her. Cringe and smile at every one of my husband's mood seemed awful to me. I don't know if it was my will that influenced my visions, but I never pictured myself with a husband at my side. Sometimes, I believed to see the shadows of a man with a ponytail in the distance, but whenever I tried to get closer he vanished into nothing. In one of my visions, he was close. Close enough that I should have been able to feel his breath. Only that he wasn't breathing. I had woken up from that vision covered in a cold sweat.
"Father, may I have a puppy for my birthday?" Cynthia asked. "Oh please, I will die if I don't get a puppy soon."
Our father laughed and leaned over to her. "We shall see what we can do about that." He kissed her forehead. If there was a soft spot in father's heart, it was owned by Cynthia and her alone.
Pain flashed through my head. Sometimes, when a vision hits me full speed, it caused my temples to feel as if they had been set on fire. I could see my beloved little sister playing with a brown dog. He licked her face and then…suddenly, he snapped, leaving a bloody wound where her chubby chin had been just seconds ago. The picture made my stomach cramp.
"No dog." I called out. "He's going to bite her. Cynthia, if you get a dog he's going to hurt you, honey."
A loud, shrill sob reached my ears. Cynthia's face turned crimson. She screeched and stomped her foot. "He won't bite me." She screamed. "You are so mean to me."
Mother rose from her chair. She tried to lift the crying girl up, but Cynthia kept kicking her legs. "Cynthia Margaret, behave. Alice, why are you always agitating the poor child like this?" She cradled my sister on her lap. "Please, calm down sweetheart. Your dog isn't going to bite you. Mother and father will buy you a nice pup that doesn't bite."
I bit my tongue. Why wouldn't they listen to me? I considered telling my parents the dog was going to bite Cynthia's face. That would only make them madder at me. I had already said too much. But how could I let anything bad happen to the people I love?