Alice's POV
I carefully pushed open the rotten, wooden door and lightly stepped inside. I gazed around in shock at the crumbling wreck of a hall that we were standing in, directly opposite us I could see the figure of a woman walking towards us at a slow pace, even for a human. We stood there waiting in silence until she had fully reached us, even under the dodgy lighting I could pick out her features, she had soft grey hair piled on top of her head and she was wearing too big glasses because they kept sliding down the bridge of her wrinkled nose.
"Hello there, my name is Cynthia, how may I help you?" She asked, looking curiously at me before turning her attention to Carlisle who smiled gratefully.
"Yes, I'm Carlisle Cullen; we spoke on the phone about some information regarding a Mary Alice Brandon?"
"Indeed we did, Mr Cullen, if you all would follow me, if you please." Cynthia stated, looking at me again before turning gracefully on her heels and trotted slowly down the long corridor.
Jasper nodded calmly before sliding his hands into mine, away from their previous resting place on my shoulders, beckoning me to proceed when I was ready. After turning a couple of corners I found myself sitting at Jasper's side on a black leather sofa, the walls surround us were a murky white colour, paint peeling off at the corners. There were several dusty, crooked pictures hanging dangerously on the walls, mostly of the asylum looking at its best when it first opened. My niece's voice distracted me from my searching around the untidy room as she spoke.
"So why exactly do you need this information about my aunt?"
"My kids here have to do a project for history class about a person in a nineteenth century asylum," Carlisle lied smoothly, motioning towards Jasper and I.
"Well I would be quiet happy to help you out with your project, let's see. Mary Alice Brandon was born on the 28th of June 1901 in Biloxi, Mississippi. Her parents were called Mary and William Brandon, she had a little sister called Cynthia, my mother whom I was named after. She led a pretty normal childhood until around a month after her nineteenth birthday, William had gone away to war and Mary was left to look after six year old Cynthia and nineteen year old Mary Alice. It was the day of Williams death, Mary Alice had a vision of William getting shot in the war, soon enough a letter came to the house informing Mary that William had died from enemy fire in the war. She was distraught and little Mary Alice's visions kept coming, they ranged anything from the weather to life and death. Mary was getting scared as her daughter started talking to herself and locking herself away from the human eye. At first she thought it was a reaction to Williams's tragic death but as the amount of visions increased Mary took her to the doctors. After being told her conditions the doctor took no hesitation in giving Mary the address to this asylum, she wondered if this was the right thing to do to her daughter but as she arrived home she made up her mind almost immediately. She was met by the piercing screams and the sight on little Mary Alice shrieking on the floor in agony. She signed the paperwork and her daughter left the very next day, nobody ever saw her again. They day of her admission was also the day of her death. 31st of July 1920. They didn't give her any funeral; my grandmother was ashamed of what her oldest daughter had become and was grateful William was not around to see all her suffering."
"And nobody wondered what happened to her?" Jasper spoke up for the first time that day, wonder in his voice.
"No, everybody was too distracted by the war going on to worry about anything else."
"Of course," Sensing my pain he quickly spoke up again, "I hope you don't think us rude but we must be getting home, Esme will be wondering where we are, father," Jasper spoke, urgency lacing his voice.
"Indeed my son, thank you very much for all of your information Cynthia, it has made all of the difference,"
Carlisle thanked Cynthia again before following Jasper and I outside the door and out to the Mercedes, I quickly climbed inside and waited impatiently to get going. The journey back seemed quicker than the original journey and I was thankful for that. As soon as we arrived I tried to get out of the car but I couldn't quite manage it alone, with Jasper's help he picked me up out of the car and swiftly up inside to our bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind him Jasper perched me on our bed and embraced me.
"Let it go Lis, let it all out, it's the only way love," Jasper soothed as I sobbed hysterically into his chest… why did they hate me??
— Alice Cullen