A/N: I am sorry for the slowish updates, but I have an extremely demanding schedual. Luckily, chapter four is pretty much written, and I will post it sometime this week. Between colorguard, reading Eclipse (!!!), Family Values tour, and my APUSH workshop, I am not sure when Ican exactly update next. But hopefully it won't be that long. Sorry that the chapters go so slow. I am just trying to make everything detailed so you can understand Alice's life. The next few chapters I planned will be intense though. Sorry for the long note. Anyway, please review! 9goal for five reviews telling what you think of the story)

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Let me go play with ym razorblades now...XD

The rest of the day made my morning seem completely perfect.

I walked to school with the sun beating down on my back. My pace quicken, as I was certain that I would be tardy due to my episode this morning. When I was hurrying, I did not happen to notice everyone around me. I ran into my one teacher, Mr. Johnson.

"I am terribly sorry," I apologized, my breathy voice shaking. He did not respond. He simply scowled and entered the building. He never really did like me, after I had one of my episodes in his class and disrupted his lesson. The school bell chimed and I went to class.

I took my desk, which was in the furthest corner in the back of the room. No one sat in the desk in front of me, or in the desk beside e. I was an outsider, a peculiar girl that the rest of the girls did not want to associate with. The boys did not speak with me either.

Mr. Johnson entered the classroom and everyone immediately fell silent. We were beginning history class, a class that held no particular interest of mine. I was more concerned for the future.

He had us open our history text books. We were learning about the early United States. Most of the time, I wrote poetry or stories during this class. I was about to start writing something new; a brand new poem.

Close my eyes

And then I dream

See your face

Let out a scream

The future's real

The past forgotten

Know your name

See you often

I was interrupted from my writing when Mr. Johnson called my name out.

"Ms. Brandon, please pay attention," he requested. A blush crept up on my cheeks. People turned around to look at me. I let my hair fall over my face, creative a type of curtain. That was how I wanted to stay for the rest of the class.

Mr. Johnson continued the day's lecture. It was about the Salem witch trials. He was going into great detail. The lecture grasped my attention immediately.

"In that time, being different was a crime. If you did not follow the same religion or same beliefs as the majority of the town, you were automatically accused of witchcraft. Women were burned at the stake frequently. They were burned for things such as having visions of the future or other…conditions of that nature. It was a terrible time. That would never happen today," Mr. Johnson explained.

A few girls snickered and looked back at me when he was describing the persecution for the conditions. Some heads turned and eyes burned holes through me. I even heard a girl, Jennifer, whisper to her friend "Let's put Mary on the stake." Most people new about my condition from what happened a month prior.

I was sitting in class, not paying much attention. Then, I got that strange feeling that I usually had when I had an episode. My head tilted to the side and my stare was blank. I sat up completely straight. At first no one noticed but then I was called upon to answer a question. When I did not respond, everyone turned to look at me.

I saw myself alone in the woods. No one was with me. I did not feel the need to scream. My hunger, thirst rather, was burning my throat.

I then fell out of my desk, hitting my head on the floor. Mr. Johnson called the school nurse in to come get me. She suspected it was epilepsy. I was sent home, but everyone continued talking about it.

That is how it was ever since.

The school bell rang, and I left the classroom, ecstatic that I was finished in there.

The rest of the school day went by as normal. I made it through the rests of my classes without having any episodes. I was alone during lunch. I sat at the farthest table and conversed with no one the entire time. I was fine with being alone. It just meant that no one would wonder when you were gone.

I skipped down the stone steps in the front of the school at the end of the day, eager to get to my ballet lessons. The dance studio was not far from the school, fortunately. I was eager to get there. When I was dancing, I tended to forget my problems. The ninety minutes in the studio was my sanctuary.

Crossing the street, I saw several girls from my class pass me by. They were smiling and laughing with each other. Once they saw me, they fell silent. Jennifer, the same girl who made the comment about me earlier, strode towards me. She had a smirk on her face. I was not in the mood to have a confrontation with her. If I stayed to talk to her, I would surely be late for my ballet lesson.

"Mary!" Jennifer called, her golden, tumbling curls pinned perfectly to the side, bounced as she approached. I inhaled deeply, not certain of what she wanted with me.

"Hello," I said to Jennifer, at loss of what I could have possibly told her.

Jennifer said no more to me. She clutched a folded piece of parchment in her hand. It appeared to be a note. No one ever passed me a note before. She held it out in front of my face, something that was easy since she was about six inches taller than I happened to be. I seized the note and the pranced back to her group of giggling friends.

I opened the note anxiously. I wondered what was written on it. I carefully unfolded it, not wanting to tear it. One the paper read one simple word, scripted in elegant cursive.

witch.

I glanced at the group of girls. They were laughing at me, not even trying to suppress their giggles. I hurried away, not letting the girls get a look of my red face. I promised myself that I wouldn't let these incidents get to me. I am only human, so I could not stop myself from crying over the silly note. Witch. That's what they thought that I was. I was shameful enough of my condition; they had no right to make me feel worse.

My tears stopped as soon as I entered the studio. I went into the dressing room so I could change. I slipped my white tights over my already pale legs; the milky hue of my legs almost matching them. The black leotard glided up my body in one swift motion. I tied my red point shoes quickly, letting my hands do the familiar motion. I pulled my hair back into a bun and then I was ready to dance.

I walked into the room I have grown to know and love. I took my place at the bar, seven other girls falling in behind me. I placed my hand on the smooth, wooden bar and began my stretches.

I extended my arm over my head, brought it out, extended my leg, and repeated it. I went on my toes and fluttered in the same spot for two minutes. I remember how when I was just learning, I could barely stay on my toes for thirty seconds.

Madam Jennet entered the room, clapping her hands to have us get into position. I took mine in the front and center of the room. It was a coveted spot and I was fortunate enough to get it assigned to me.

"Five, six, five, six, seven, eight!" She counted, clapping her hands to the rhythm.

The music picked up and I bound up and down the room in a fashion that broke the other dancers' hearts. I flowed with the music, becoming one with it. I lost myself in the dance completely.

During my solo the worst thing possible could have happened.

I got that strange feeling I usually get when I have an episode. I fell off of my toes and stared straight ahead. The music was drowned out by the voices in my head

"Mary Alice Brandon," said a man's husky voice. You are here so we can help you. You will not be possessed any longer. She cried and cried, begged to not be sent to a place like that. It was of no use. She was there for the rest of her life, destined to be cut short. No one was there to really help her. She was there so they would not have to deal with the whispers and murmurs of the town. She reluctantly was left there, her whole life left behind her. It was worth than death could be. Within there, she found a pair of friendly, topaz eyes…

My vision ended and I collapsed against the floor, hitting my head on the bar on my way down. I heard the music stop, and the rush of the other girls coming towards me.

Dance was the only time I was not viewed at as an outcast. No one there, besides my sister at least, has witnessed me having an episode. As far as I was concerned, until today no one there knew I had a condition.

I felt the cool hands of Madame Jennet on my forehead. My eyes fluttered open and all I wanted to do was burst into tears.

"Mary, are you alright?" She asked, her voiced laced with concern.

"I'm fine," I managed to mutter, standing up. My normal vision returned to focus. I looked at all the worried faces staring back up at me. Cynthia strolled over towards me, squeezing my arm.

"Are you sure you are fine?" She mouthed. I nodded and took my normal place on the dance floor. I smiled, trying to have everyone believe that I simply feinted.

"Why is everyone so worried? I am sure I just feinted because I need to eat something," I said to Madame Jennet. She believed my lie and told the other girls to get into formation so we can restart the dance.

I sighed as I began the dance again, losing me in the music once more, glad that my secret was not discovered there.