Alice shivered in the cold. Knifelike, It seemed to cut straight through her. Grating against her bones violently and without ceasing. An endless barrage of chill stripped her of any warmth her body had left to give. Despite her best efforts to wrap her shawl tighter across her shivering shoulders, It was made of a gauzy mesh material and offered little warmth. Still, Alice thought as she shook her head and attempted to blink away the snowflakes that clustered at the edges of her eyelashes and blurred her vision, it was better than nothing. She turned to glance back only once. The austere building she had just exited was the only home she had ever known. The orphanage offered little shelter from the hardships of the world. Like a large, dark, gaping mouth, it accepted children from all walks of life. Of all ages, from infancy to adolescence. No child has ever turned away from the orphanage, but, no child was ever warmly received either. It swallowed them up and held them fast. Never allowing them to go beyond the confines of the outer fence until their departure, the day they came of age. Then, as though they had suddenly spoiled, they were spat out into the world they had been alienated from for the duration of their stay, with nothing more than the clothes on their back, 10 dollars, and the single instruction: Never To Come Back. The orphanage offered a roof overhead, the barest necessities, and enough food to keep children from starving. No more, no less. It was a source of great pride for the orphanage headmistress. That no child had ever died within the confines of her four cold, hard, colorless walls. That was just the kind of woman she was. Driven by a strange sense of duty to provide for otherwise impoverished, starving children. The scope of her providence reached as far as keeping them alive. No more, no less. There was unity, and equality between each child, regardless of age, race, or creed. All were the same in the eyes of the headmistress. All were entitled to the most basic of care, no more, no less. The headmistress was a hard woman. As rigid and unyielding as the dark, imposing building, as Alice glanced back at it. No child ever died within her halls, and no adult besides herself was ever permitted to cross the threshold. Once a tenant came of age, they were put out. Whatever the weather, rain or shine, come hell or high water. Just as Alice found herself being shut out now. Her time had come; her tenancy in the orphanage had run its course. Looking back at the building and her time there, she did not feel remorse. She was not angry at being shut out like a dry milk cow set to pasture. She had known other children who had "come of age" and been sent out, just as she was now. No one ever cried or made a big fuss. As far back as she could remember, no one had ever shouted or became indignant. The younger children cried and carried on of course. But the newly adult persons had always calmy said their goodbyes, thanked the headmistress, and went on their way. Alice had always wondered how they could be so collected in the face of their entire lives shifting, changing so dramatically. She always envisioned herself fighting, digging her nails into the carpets, and kicking wildly at any hands that attempted to drag her out. Alice smiled. Although she was little more than a child, she felt that perhaps just as none could prevent themselves from aging, as time would march onward, unfazed and unfeeling, so would she. She felt neither anger nor sadness nor remorse. She felt only the resigned acceptance she was sure had possessed those who made the march before her. After casting her last long glance at the dark domicile she had spent all her life inside, she turned and faced forward. The sound of her boots crunching in the snow was only barely audible under the deafening howl of the wind.
Although the world beyond the outer fence that spun the length of the orphanage property was completely unknown to her, Alice could not help but smile. Smiling at the delicious mystery of it all. As she stepped outside the gate and closed it firmly behind her. She did not look back at the orphanage. Her time there was spent and was no more. My time is now; she thought as she smiled despite the biting cold that nipped at her cheeks, forcing its way inside of her mouth. Chattering her teeth and chilling her to her core. This is not an end. It is my beginning. The wind itself struggled. Faltering for a moment as though trying to stifle her joy and was disheartened, finding its efforts fruitless. Alice laughed despite it. Or perhaps, laughed to spite it. Alice stepped, hesitant, curious, steady. Into the wind, into the mystery. Into the freedom that was the outside world. The storm shrouded the street in a hazy white veil, but she could see the street's cobblestones beneath her feet. The dim, hazy lights poured down from their perch atop the light posts like matchsticks in the street. Even the chill thrilled her. Alice could no longer tell if she shivered from the excitement or lack of warmth. All was a hazy blur of white, as though she were peering through unfocused eyes. She laughed at the outside world's attempt to hide from her. As though an agent of the headmistress and an extension of the protective arms of the orphanage. Attempting even still to keep her ignorant of its existence. The storm could not last forever. She thought as she walked wearily towards the cluster of lights just down the road, which she assumed was a town. She had no way to be sure, as it had been so long since she had last seen one. The world cannot keep itself from me forever. I will see everything. She thought. I will drink down every delicious, sweet thing this outside world has to offer.
