The Place with No Return

Chapter 1 / a scream is a record

March 17th 1881,
What will happen to your after this moment.
Could you have avoided this point in time.
Do you regret it all.
The consequences after today. Do you regret them?
And if you do what of it?
I mean you can't go back now?
So think better.
Do better.

The colour was so loud. The lights like a rainbow shooting up and down. Joy bouncing up from the crowd. I need to get out.
I had all my might and all that was left of me grabbing onto my parents running out of the area. I don't think I had been more happy to be in the presence of the fresh air. Every spec of the air was over me. The sunsets joy going down my throat.
"I need to go home. And lie down." I softly muttered.
"Alright dear." My mother worried.
Every sound imaginable ringed in my ears; screams, shouts, singing, a cats meowing, dancers moving in the air. The town itself could make anyones tide of pain go away. It's shops, theatres, plays, singers, dancers,animals,restaurants. A group of woman in blank extravagant dresses passed me, then a man in a suit who looked like he was going to a wedding or taking his wife out for dinner. Most buildings were stony with a tint of sage green or a beige colour.
"Mother I have been worrying about something recently. I said to my mother who was dressed in a gorgeous crimson dress. "It's this, this feeling I have inside about school about everything that's happened like the bullying or-"
"Oh sweetheart your probably just overthinking it all!" She said in her classy accent like everything was fine!
"Alright." I replied putting on a fake smile.
But I didn't really think everything was okay. The town as beautiful but I think I was making living here an excuse for saying my life is perfect when it's really not. My mother and father rarely listened to me; almost like I was a baby shouting out random letters that didn't even make sense so the parents would just not listen. Like I was a baby. But my mind may have been right. Maybe this would be the beginning of the end. I mean I can't predict the future but all of it. Didn't. Make. Sense.
"Oh there blocking the roads for some reason." My father said holding my mothers hand, "let's go down this all way."
"Are you sure sweetheart? Always can be full of way horrible people." She replied scared looking up and down at the all way like it was giving her a strange looking of whispering something and looking at her.
"I'm sure it's fine!" I said.
"O-okay." She replied to me unsure.

Helpless. Blood curdling. Withered. All of these words meant so little but were combined to make the worst. A scream.
See what I mean now?
A voice in my mind cracked into pieces of urge and pain washing around my mind.
W-what.

My mother. This memory. I suddenly woke up by my sage green front door, my eyes soaked in red. I could barely remember anything from life or the world except the scream I heard. That hair raising, bleak scream the type you would have to take a pin killer for if it even came near you. My trembling legs got up and I opened my front door with the pace of a sloth. It was me. Why am I seeing me. It wasn't a mirror or a window just me. Except my face was soaked in a blurry vision of tears that ran down my face. I was talking with my Mother. She looked the same as me, her eyes looked down on the floor, dull, lifeless, as she began to shout.
"OF COURSE I HEAR YOU OUT ALICE!" My Mother shouted in a angry yet upset tone.
"You don't. YOU NEVER DO!" I replied also angry and upset, "okay then. If you do then what about when I was bullied or when I was ditched or used or maybe when you hit me!" I cried.
Very quickly and very suddenly the memory hit me. At my school I was being used and bullied and when I told my mother she didn't listen; like always. I had almost always thought that she thought of me as an object, couldn't have feelings didn't or couldn't think for myself. So I guess I just lashed out at her.
"Of course I do your my daughter!" My mother spoke in a sadder tone this time.
"Just because your my mother doesn't mean that you hear me out! Maybe your just..." there was a silence for a while,"maybe your just a bad mother." I silently but angrily said.
After this there was quite a long silence. Maybe my mother had run out of excuses or these dolls in front of me would stop playing. But out of every flashback. My first step, my first word, my 11th birthday why this ear splitting one? My mother was an extremely rich lady in our town and her appearance proved it; the sweetheart sound that came from her voice, her cinnamon scent, her crimson, shiny lipstick that she would wear when we went out, her majestic, extravagant dresses usually in a bright colour with a corset and a rather large skirt. Suddenly the doll that appeared as me started to talk once again
"God no one ever hears me out I'm not a tool everyone just uses me!" They continued.
"Don't you dare say the lords name in vein." She said changing the subject drastically. I can distinctly remember my mothers urge to do this. When I was going through anything, anything at all she would change the subject to make it about herself.
"You know you would not think like this if I was dead!"