ALICE: BLOODY WONDERLAND
CHAPTER TWELVE: It Only Looks Like a Turtle
"You still haven't answered me." I said bitterly. At least I was sitting now, and Roger wasn't literally breathing down my neck. Although, I had to ask him to get off of me. That was a bit awkward.
"What question?" He mumbled around the knife gripped in his teeth; Jack's knife. He examined a just-sharpened spear with scrutinizing eyes.
"What happened with Simon?" I whispered, "What'd you do…"
"That doesn't matter."
"But it does!" I continued to push, leaning forward on my hands a bit in my enthusiastic upset, "Even if it's bad, and even if Simon was my friend, I'm used to it by now…I don't know if I even care anymore, really. I just feel kind of…numb. We can still be friends."
Roger stopped what he was doing and looked up. "Friends?" He asked, stranger still, then repeated quieter, "Friends…" Like it was a new, foreign words, or food; he rolled it around on his tongue, tasting its value. Once confused enough to let it go, he went back to sharpening spears.
"Are you going to tell me or not? I huffed. This was quickly becoming a frustrating conversation; two 'killers', not sharing any secrets. "Am I going to have to force it out of you?"
"I'd like to see that." He muttered.
"Oh, shut it." I prodded, "No…wait…spill it."
He rolled his eyes and put the knife up to its grip in the squishy soil. I just waited; biding my time, really. He would say something as soon as he was ready. Roger was just the kind of person who had to talk sooner or later; whether to run his own mouth or relieve some of that pressure. I knew it well. Not because I was like that, no. But, because of my sister. I had experienced it enough.
"It was dark…" He began with a sigh, "and…I just…let go."
"What do you mean?" I asked gently. For some reason, I felt like comforting him, maybe touching his hand…but I resisted. I wasn't sure what kind of reprisal that would earn me. I let him go on in silence.
Roger drew a deep breath and took up Jack's knife and a small branch that had been shaken from the treetops above during the storm. He furiously began working at it with the knife, taking out his frustrations on this small distraction. "I lost it…myself. I used to take medications that helped, but I don't have any with me and I keep…thinking…of these things…and I stabbed him." He finished briskly, jamming the end of the ravaged stick in the ground. It was a jagged representation of his thoughts. "I just…stabbed him. And I…he screamed. And he died. And I don't regret a thing."
"What were the medications for?" I asked; my curiosity peaked.
"My…" He exhaled a ragged breath and shut his eyes in painful thought, "Lust, if you want to put it like that…any kind of lust, but mostly…mostly for blood. I have…sadistic personality disorder. They called me a freak."
"You're not." I rebuked, "When I was younger, I had to take pills for seizures. I had them all the time, without warning. My aunt had to pull me out of school, and for a very long time I had to be homeschooled."
Roger looked at me harshly. "You had seizures?"
"Yeah." I admitted, rubbing my wrist with my index finger and thumb, trying to remember the vague memories of the old days. "They stopped a while ago, so I guess I've been cured." I added the last part with a touch of confidence. My aunt had helped me mix the pills myself. I'd cured myself without killing anybody involved.
"Interesting." Roger smiled, "Maybe I'll come and visit your aunt's shop when we get out of here."
This caught me off guard. I was almost certain that I'd never told Roger my aunt was the apothecary of our city…where had he learned that?
"How did you know my aunt owned a store?" I risked asking. He froze.
"Uh, you told me, remember?" He rushed, "It was a while ago, so you probably won't remember. You do have an awful terrible memory, you know that, right Alice?"
"Sure." I muttered, despondent. I guess, maybe, he was right. I probably did tell him sometime, and he just didn't remember. For the sake of keeping the current good attitude though, I decided to change the subject and not bother too much about it. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be with the tribe or something? Do you think-"
"I can't get Maurice to talk to you." Roger sighed tiredly. He'd obviously already had this conversation with the significant other. I also noticed, however, that the slight devious tone had crept back into his voice. He could be lying. "The only reason I'm allowed to be away is because I'm high rank. Jack just doesn't give any fucks about where the hell I am, as long as I'm back in time for meetings and punishments."
"Do you think you could deliver some messages for me, then?" I asked, suddenly excited by a thought that run through my head. "You could be like a messenger! We could have a whole secret, underground delivery service! It'll be cool!"
"Yeah, whatever." Roger waved off, "I'll deliver your shitty mail. Just, be here every day when the sun is at the highest point in the sky. That way, it's easier to meet up without any mistakes. I don't want to get caught." He leaned back and basked lazily in a shaft of sunlight filtering down from the leaves above, taking sluggish breaths. Something about the way he conducted himself, the way he spoke, made only one word pop into my mind: Artificial. Roger was absolutely, without a doubt, artificial. At least, the one I knew. Maybe someday, he'd let me know the real one. I certainly hope so, anyway.
"Just, tell him I said hi for now." I finished, sighing. There seemed to be a lot of that going on in this chat. "And tell him that I'm doing okay. He's probably worried."
"You have no idea." Roger laughed darkly.
"I have a slight one." I said passively, standing up. As I did so, my flower drifted from my dress and spiraled to the ground. It fell atop the surface of Roger's hand, resting there, spread to the sky. He made no motion to it at first, but after a moment, moved with slow, slight motions to bring it to eye level. He examined it with keen, yet detached, interest. He took a small sniff at it, and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Some of his paint chipped off in response.
"Damn, that's wretched." He choked, handing it quickly to me, "That's the worst smelling flower I've ever stuck my nose in. How do you even put up with that?"
I snatched it back and stuck my tongue out; like a child. "I thought it smelled pretty." I retorted, "It's not my fault you have no taste…or smell."
"No, really, Alice." He added seriously, "That's terrible. I can't put my finger on it, but it smells…familiar. Gross, but familiar."
"Whatever." I brushed off, looking a different way in a weak attempt to break off conversation, "I got to go now. The others will send Piggy after me again if I don't go back soon. Remember to deliver that message for me, okay?"
"Sure." He said, uninterested.
"Oh, and Roger?" I decided to say at the last moment, when my feet were just at the edge of our copse. It was silent for a moment. He was trying to decide what to say, if anything at all.
"…yes?"
"Good luck with things." I smiled, "I'm…sorry."
"Sorry for what?!" He asked sharply.
"I'm sorry that you killed Simon."
I left without another word.
…
Piggy, Ralph, and the twins were waiting anxiously for my return when I got back to the beach, as to be expected. I breathed in deep as I walked along the sand, trying to compose myself for an adult conversation. I had acted irrationally earlier, when I ran off. I knew that now, and I was prepared to receive the full consequences of worrying everyone like I did.
"Hullo." I greeted nonchalantly, casting a sideways glance in their direction. Ralph looked at me with blank eyes.
"Hullo, Alice." He said back. Nobody else said anything for a very long time. I stood amongst them, waiting for my punishment to come. Surely, someone would rebuke me for my actions. But nothing happened. I ended up feeling awkward, standing in the middle of a loose circle of people I hardly knew, waiting for a storm that had already come. In fact, it had long since passed. There was nothing I needed to fear, nothing I needed to wait for. Except for the next storm, but the skies were clear for now. It would be a long way off yet.
"Alice," Piggy tried nervously to initiate a chat when he realized nobody was going to do anything. It still wasn't one of his high points. I'm not sure if I even knew what his high points were. "Why don't we talk, get to know each other better? Do you want to walk with me?!"
"Uh, sure?" I tilted my head to the side. His rapid hand gestures and hard-to-read expressions, hidden by too-big glasses, confused me constantly. It was almost to the point where I didn't want to, but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing, I supposed.
"Alright then!" He smiled, "Come on."
I followed him down the beachside for a long time, still not saying anything. We simply walked and walked and walked some more. Sometimes, when the opportunity called to me, I kicked a seashell absent-mindedly with a crooked foot, or picked one up and chucked it into the sea, only to watch it be dragged away and never seen again. That seashell would never return to me, it would never feel the grains of sand shift under it as it crept up the shoreline, pushed on by the same waves that took it away now. I wondered if Simon was the same as the shells. Was he out there, somewhere, in the sea? Would his real sister and his mother miss him? Would they ever even know he was gone?
"So, what happened with the tribe?" Piggy finally decided to ask.
"Nothing, really." I replied, "I ran into Roger before I could get there, and we had a nice talk about some things."
"You WHAT?!" Piggy exclaimed, taking my arm forcefully, "Are you stupid? He killed Simon!"
"I know that." I said flatly, still staring at the sea.
"So, what then?" He accused, "You're just going to pretend it never happened? Leave it all there? 'Oh, Roger murdered my best friend, but I guess that's okay. Because, you know, he is kind of hot!'"
"That's not why I forgave him." I insisted truthfully. It wasn't, really. In fact, Piggy's words kind of disturbed me. Did he actually think Roger was hot? That's weird. I would have to tell Roger about it tomorrow.
"Then why'd you do it?" He asked. It was the same question I'd asked Roger earlier, except this time I was faced with it. I suddenly realized, with a pang of sorrow, why Roger had been so evasive on the subject. It was a hard thing to answer, to give your reason for something you didn't even fully understand yourself. If I had perhaps come from a less educated family, I would have answered right away that it was because we were, in a way, the same. Roger and I shared some of the same qualities, and that's why I forgave him. But, that couldn't be the real reason. That wasn't the real reason, and I knew it. I didn't like it either.
"…I don't know." I responded. I was confused, utterly stumped. Why had I forgiven him? In hindsight, it seemed like such a terrible mistake…I almost regretted it…but not really.
Why had I forgiven Roger? If only I knew. It was just one more question to add to my growing list of things. I had a lot of lists going at the moment.
I looked up quickly. The sky was blue still. The air was warm. And without warning, everything was made perfect.
I realized that it didn't matter, and continued walking along the beach.
….
WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW
I don't know why I typed that. I just feel like, every time I start an A/N, I need to start with an exclamation. Like: WOW or YEAH or WIZZOH or SHAMWOW.
You know, just for kicks.
But seriously, this story is progressing at an alarming rate, and gaining followers and active reviewers. I hadn't anticipated that…not that I don't like it…it's just a pleasant, highly unexpected surprise. I LUB YOU GUISE SO MUCH….*sobs* YOU ARE FANTASTIC.
So, thanks for reading, I really do love you in a non-awkward way.
REVIEW RESPONSE TIEM WITH NO SEGWAY THIS TIME, YAY!
FreedomWriter~~~
Thanks for thinking my story is amazing :D That means a lot! Also, I don't have any revenues, but yes, I would like a lot more reviews…not that it matters! I enjoy writing and do it for the fun of it! I love to create, and I love to write, so write I will as long as I love to! And when I tire of it…if that day ever comes when I do…Well, that hasn't happened yet, so I don't know what I'll do then!
I'M STILL WORKING ON THAT TAN! XD (Or rather, burn. I don't tan to well…but rest assured I'll be golden in no time flat!)
100ReasonsWhy~~~
A new reader! :,D Yay!
I'm glad you like everything! Especially Alice; as I've said so many times before, I was really worried people would bash her and hate on her, but it turns out I did a relatively good job creating her…I'm so relieved, you can't even imagine.
That's the first comment I've got about the title though…hm. I didn't really think it was that clever. But, as a writer, I don't really think I have any idea what I'm doing at all…I just…do it. I write what feels right, you know?
Thanks for reading/reviewing!
…
Okay, so to everybody now, THANKS FOR READING MY STORY! Please Review if you have time, and maybe check out the soundtrack list that's slowly growing on my profile page. I appreciate it! WRITE YOU SOON!