I don't own Twilight.


Chapter I"As I Dream"


She looks up at me with terrified brown eyes.

Her eyes tell me that she doesn't want to die this way. That she doesn't want to die at all, let alone this way. This way is the most sudden, painful way to die. She withers in pain, her heartbeat slowing to a stop. I watch her with numb eyes.

She falls limp in my arms. I let her go loosely and smile down at her pale skin, her unseeing eyes. They stare up the heavens, as if stargazing or daydreaming of the place she will go. Gently, I lay her down to rest forever.

"Done?" I hear a voice ask from behind me.

I don't turn around when I reply with, "Yes. Let's keep moving. Someone is bound to notice sooner or later that these killings are related. The humans are stupid, but not that stupid."

Though I don't see, I know she is nodding, her shoulder pressed up against the doorframe. She is heartless when it comes to these killings. So is the other one. It is true that we don't feel for the likes of these humans because, honestly, what do they have to live for? They live just so they can die.

Standing up, I look at her and she smiles at me. There is nothing in her eyes. In my eyes, however, there is something. I don't feel for these humans, but I feel something.

As I dream of something different to happen, we continue running.


Alice

***

I look over to see him standing there, smiling at me. His hand is outstretched and when I touch it, it is warm in my palm. His golden eyes are radiating with an expression no one has ever given me before. It's such a warm and peaceful look that I can't help but return it with the same expression.

"Alice," he says my name and I can feel my heart squeezing with anticipation, "I love you."

My heart seems to explode from the words. It's so strange. I don't remember why, but I know that I haven't been told that in a long time. I've missed being loved by someone and loving them in return.

"I love you too."

***

I squeeze my eyes shut tightly before I gently let them open back up. Will is looking at me again, with eyes that are dark and mysterious in the sunlight. "What did you see?" he asks me and I want to answer, but I don't. I want to keep this particular dream to myself, even if just for a little longer.

"I saw … love," I tell him truthfully because it is the truth.

He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. He leans back on his little chair and then forward again. He drops his notepad on the floor and then wrings his fingers together. He looks me deeply in the eyes.

"You are being very vague today," he tells me. "Usually, you have much to say about love and the soldier, the monsters, the blood, the Angels …" he trails off, waving off my life with the palm of his hand. I want to cry, to bend over and hope that he will comfort me, but I don't.

I am not that weak.

Instead, I look him straight in the eye, rather than out the window and I hiss, "Maybe I am being vague because I don't want you to know what I saw." He looks taken aback, like he didn't expect me, one of the crazies, to say anything back to him.

I pull my legs up to my chin and look away, feeling my long hair fall in front of my eyes. I am furious with him. Sometimes, I like it when he doesn't talk. Because when he does, I know for sure that he doesn't care about me at all. At least when he's silent, I can dream that he is kind and cares for me.

"You know that you'll stay in here for as long as you don't tell me anything," he whispers. Then I feel his rough fingers on my chin. I shiver under his touch. He brings my face to the front so my eyes are forced to meet his. I don't focus completely, the crazy girl again.

And I don't answer him.

He shakes my chin once. I stiffen, anger building. Many girls would be scared, but I am not. In my short seventeen years, I've experienced more than girls my age have. I grind my teeth together. "Look me in the eye," he tells me angrily.

I look him in the eye.

"You're one of the strangest I've ever worked with, Alice Brandon," he hisses my name like it's a poison or a name of an enemy. "I know that you want to get out of here in this lifetime." I lift my chin, challenging him, still looking at him in the eye.

"You mark the walls with your finger nails," he nods toward the tallies — two months and three days — on my wall. "You don't eat. You haven't made friends on one of the rare occasions that you get to leave this bloody place. You stare out the window when I talk to you."

I look away. When I thought he hadn't noticed anything, he noticed everything. Every little detail of my pathetic life, he notices. I meet his eyes again. He lets go of my chin.

"So, Miss Brandon, what were your dreams about?"

I look out the window, biting my lip out of anger. He's looking at his paper again, writing something. "I dreamt about the soldier," I tell him quietly, hoping that he didn't catch it. I don't want to tell him because I want to keep the soldier to myself.

"And what happened when you were with the soldier?"

I sigh and continue gazing out the window, white from sunlight, just specs of green in the glass. "He told me that he loved me," I say. "And I told him I loved him too." I glance at Will for just a second and I see him nodding.

Finally, he sets his pen on his notebook and gets up to leave. I stare at his dress black dress pants because they are blocking the window. "Miss Brandon," he says. I don't look at him; that's what is expected of me. I need to uphold my image. I must. "Look at me," he demands.

So I do.

"There is going to be a small party next Friday night in celebration of Halloween. Because you are one of the finest patients here, Mrs. Brinkmen has invited you to attend. It will be promptly at seven and one of the nurses will help you get ready before hand. I'm sure someone, one of the nurses maybe, will bring something for you to wear."

I nod but don't reply.


When Will leaves that day, I think about the dance. This dance would probably be at least an hour at least; Mrs. Brinkmen wouldn't put the nurses through the torture of dressing the patients – even the least crazy – if we would only be out there for our normal ten-minute schedules.

I wonder what Grandfather will bring me. I know I shouldn't hope for anything, let alone something beautiful, but I do. When I was normal, Mother always let me try on her old clothes. It makes me feel like a princess, or someone famous.

There is a knock on my door and Grandfather comes inside.

He sits across from me and sets my tray of food down in front of me. Today it is beef with a hard crust of bread and a glass of water. I pick up the bread and take a bite out of it. Grandfather seems to be in shock that I am eating, but he doesn't say anything.

"I suppose William has already told you about dance next Friday?" he asks me, watching as I chew my food and swallow. I nod. "I will bring you something special to wear." I look up at him, the bread halfway out of my mouth.

He chuckles and looks at me with very golden eyes.

"Yes, it will be a special night for you, Alice," Grandfather says. "It will be the night in which the relationship between you and my grandson will go to the next level." I look at him and roll my eyes, not believing him at all.

"And how do you know?" I ask.

He laughs. "I'm a monster, something from the Great Beyond or possibly an Angel sent to you from heaven, Alice," he tells me, smiling brightly with mock-arrogance, "and I know these things. Everything is going to change very, very soon."


William

As I walk home from the institute, I contemplate the one patient that has never entered my mind ever before. Her name is Mary "Alice" Brandon, seventeen years old, who can supposedly see the future. She has never given me trouble before. For her to just talk back today was very odd.

When she came into the institute, I immediately saw her. I think I was the first one she saw in the entire institute, because I remember her eyes getting wide. I remember thinking that she was beautiful in a very natural way. I was also intrigued, wanting to know her better.

Only to learn that she was another one of the psychos, another one who thought she was the solution to some many problems. She thought she could see the future. Immediately, I knew that getting to know her would do me no good.

She was not normal.

She is not normal.

However, today, she did something that made her seem less of the psycho she is supposed to be. She talked back to me; but it wasn't like her fellow patients. She didn't scream or yell or sound like she was about ready to eat my soul. She sounded … generally upset, like an angry girlfriend.

I shake my head and stuff my hands down my pockets of my jacket. It was late October and it was getting chillier every day. I pass by white houses and I think about Alice even more so than I should be. Did she live in a white house? I think.

But I brush off the subject.

She is a crazy; she will never get out of the institute. She counts the days and she hopes, dreams even that she will leave. She will not leave as long as she can "see" the future. Finally, my mind seems to go back to normal and I shake my head again, all thoughts of her gone.


That night at dinner, Grandfather tells me that he wants to let Alice borrow one of my mother's old dresses. "All they're doing up there is collecting dust," he says. "We should let her have one. Just something little, it doesn't have to be big. But I think she deserves something nice."

I look away from him too the mantle. Over the fireplace, a picture of my mother rests; her round face is bright with smiles and love. That picture is the last we have of her. After that, there is not any more documentation of the last three weeks of her life.

She was killed by a monster. Grandfather says that it was something much worse than a monster, but I don't believe him. He has always been a crazy old man. He's even crazier since my mother and grandmother were killed.

"What do you say William?" Grandfather asks.

I look away from the picture, back to my dinner and sigh. "I don't care what the hell you give her," I mutter below my breath. "It doesn't matter to me. It's not like she's suddenly going to become normal or something." I look away from his form though I can still feel him smile.

"You might be surprised, dear William, what a dress can do." I look up at him and he smiles at me, with this look in his eye that makes me believe him … even just a little.

But I refuse to accept his words. Instead, I shake my head, roll my eyes, and focus on my dinner. He laughs out loud and at that exact moment, my father walks in, shaking from the cold rain outside. "It's always nice to come home to a bright and happy family," he laughs along with my grandfather.

Setting down his briefcase, he unbuttons his jacket and hangs it by the door. He slaps his palms together and walks over to the table, admiring the meat, potatoes, and vegetables spread out before him. He gives his father a kiss on the forehead and nods toward me.

When he sits down, Grandfather and he immediately start to talk about work. Grandfather mentions Alice, and the upcoming dance at the institute. My father agrees with my Grandfather that it would be nice if Mom's dresses were finally put to use. He totally agrees with it. It's like he has no respect for my mother. They want to take her memory and throw it on someone crazy, a fool, a freak called Alice Brandon.

I can't stand it anymore. Standing up, I slam my palms down on the table. My father jumps from the sudden burst in noise, but Grandfather just looks over to me quietly; he gives me this look like I'm a small child, being chided for throwing a tantrum. I hate that look.

"I'm finished," I tell them, instead of yelling about the dress. I know that getting upset will only require an apology from me later. And I didn't wat to deal with it or them. With that, I push away from the table, the plates rattling from the force, and to the door.

"I'm going out." I pull it open.

"Where are you going?" my father calls, but doesn't make any more to stop me. We've gone through this a lot since Mom died. This was mostly just routine by now.

"Out."

And the door slams shut behind me, as I walk out into the frigid, rainy air.


A/N — Alright, chapter two down! Haha. So, did you guys like it? Has everyone started school again? This week was my first full week and I'm ready for summer already! XD. Of course, next summer will be my last of high school. Ohmygosh, so sad! =''[

Please review and let me know!

-Liz