It's Never Over
"Laura? Laura St. DeLions?" Alison DiLaurentis looked up from her Blackberry at the sound of her almost-name being called. The flyers advertising Philadelphia Falls High's Prom, Swim Team and Book Club fluttered as a breeze flew through the open window opposite her. Alison was sitting in one of the many comfy chairs crowding the school's office waiting room. A friendly-looking woman with her black hair in a loose bun was striding over to her, a curious look on her face. "Yes, that's me." Alison said brightly, trying not to smirk. Well, it's me as of now, she added in her head. The woman looked at her with a slightly frusturated expression, almost like she had forgotten something. "You seem... familiar somehow." She pursed her lips, still staring at Alison carefully. Alison smiled in answer, her perfect shell-pink lips curving upwards. The woman shook her head, forgetting the outrageous thought, and smiled at her. "Well, anyway, my name is Mrs Wells. Welcome to Philadephia Falls High!" As Alison stood, she repressed the urge to roll her sky-blue eyes at the overwhelming enthusiasm. "Ready to meet your new homeroom?" Alison fake-smiled at the over-enthusiastic woman. "Sure." They stepped through a set of double doors and started to walk down a long hallway. "So, where were you before you came here, Laura?" Alison smiled to herself. Locked away in a mental hospital because of my deranged sister. But she had quickly resolved that issue. One night in Rosewood, Courtney had stepped out, all alone... Alison snapped out of her memories, searching her brain for the lies she had already created about her past. "I used to live in New York with my brother." Mrs Wells looked at her. "Oh, so you're a big city girl, are you?" Not at all. "Yeah, I guess I am." They stopped at a navy blue door with 7B written on it in curly white script. While Mrs Wells fussed around knocking and greeting the students, Alison brushed her blonde hair over her shoulder in the way she knew looked good, and ran her tongue over her teeth. "Laura?" Mrs Wells called to her through the door. Alison stepped into the room full of teenagers, and they immediatley fell quiet. Alison walked up to the front of the class where the teacher stood waiting, her confident strut instantly catching the eye of everyone in the room. She looked around the room at the silent students, looking each one in the eye. It was a trick she had learned made people feel slightly squirmy, the way she liked it. But one girl wasn't looking at her. Her deep brown hair fell in a curtain over her face as she finished painting the last nail of her right hand jade. Finally, she glanced up to see Alison watching her. A small crease appeared in the middle of her forehead, and she seemed to supress a shudder. Alison carefully kept her expression neutral, but stared deeper into the girl's eyes, liking the feeling she was uncomfortable. "Class," Mrs Wells announced, brushing her hand against Alison's shoulder. "This is Laura St. DeLions." Alison scanned the faces quickly, seeing if any of them showed a sign of recognising her carefully structured anagram. But none of them showed anything but polite interest. Except the nail-painter. Her green eyes narrowed and Alison could almost see her brain working. She held her breath, watching the girl intently. But then the moment was over, the girl's face blank again. She smiled suddenly, giving Alison a small wave. Waving back at her, Alison smiled. She already had a new idea developing. And it involved the girl.
Later that night, Alison was in her bathroom, staring at her shoulder in the mirror. She gritted her teeth at the horrible sight. Flawless, lightly tanned skin with not a hint of a blemish... except for the 6-inch long burn that stretched across her shoulderblade. She winced as she dabbed a harsh-smelling burn ointment all over the welt, and as she lifted her top to reveal more burns all over her hips. Fire danced in her bright eyes as she remembered the night she had gotten the second-degree burns all over her once-perfect body... and the night her perfect plan had failed.
Emily ran towards her and grabbed her roughly by the arms, her hands strongly holding her in place. Alison opened her mouth in shock, but then shut it. Emily's eyes bored into hers, the honest hurt in them making Alison want to puke. "How could you do this?" Emily yelled, her eyes pooling with tears. From hurt or the heat surrounding them? Ali wondered, trying to wrench free of Emily's tough grip. Alison felt her eyes harden. "I already told you," she growled angrily. "You bitches ruined my life." Emily's hard exterior cracked, and a tear dribbled down her cheek. "But... I loved you." She said quietly. Alison's lips curled up in a cruel smile. Didn't everyone? She thought bitterly, letting out a spiteful laugh. "You are such a loser, Emily." Emily's face contorted in pain, as though Alison had physically hurt her, and her grip on Alison's shoulders tightened for a second. Alison opened her mouth, glancing over Emily's shoulder at a white-faced Spencer, a half-passed out Melissa, Hanna, who's eyes were as wide as a cartoon character's, and Aria, who was looking calm, for some reason. But then there was an ear-splitting boom, and a white-hot pain filled Alison's body. Howling in pain, she was thrown into the air, landing with a crash beside the only kitchen window she hadn't boarded up. Ignoring the blinding pain in the right half of her body, Alison threw the window open and pulled herself onto the kitchen sink. She pushed herself out of it into the trees, sprawling on her side in the cold grass. She lay there, stunned, coughing harder than she had ever coughed before for a few moments before turning to the house. The entire thing was in flames now, and Alison had done enough research to know she had mere seconds before the whole place collapsed. She scrambled toward the forest surrounding the house, dragging her right leg, which felt as though it was broken badly. "Ugh..." Alison jumped at the sound coming through the huge bush she crouched behind. No... surely not! She peeked over the top of the bush to see every one of the five girls. Alive. At that moment, there was a thunderous boom. White light filled Alison's eyes and she tightly closed them. She could hear Emily screaming through the leaves. A few sparks landed on her hand, and she quickly brushed them away. Alison flopped down, exhausted. All that hard planning... wasted. Gingerly, Alison pulled her clothes away from her skin to inspect the damage, and she nearly threw up at the sight. Her perfect, toned body was covered in oozing burns and cuts. The white-hot pain in her right leg told her that it was probably broken. Suddenly she couldn't take the pain any longer, and she saw her world go black.
Alison jerked sharply back to the present, and dabbed more of the foul ointment over her puckered scars. She would get those Pretty Little Liars. She would make them pay. If it was the last thing she ever did.