Kingdom Come

Chapter One:

Note: Rough/Unedited

July 19, 2024

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil...."

Those fucking words haunted Alice for days.....

"Are you eating?"

Alice didn't answer, she just fazed out. She was staring at the painting behind her, her neck was starting to strain as the music Pelléas et Mélisande, Op. 80: 4. Sicilienne played in the background.

She liked the gentle, familiar sounds as she stared at the painting, studying the red in the wild flowers.

"Alison?" Yolande said. Her fingers stroking the pen in her hand. The leather notebook on her lap as she sat in her velvet blue, wingback chair, which faced the long cream colored leather couch, with one too many multiple colored cushions, that Alice was currently sitting on. The walls were sky blue, wrapping Alice in a sense of calm, no matter how much she tried to fight it.

It was Wednesday. It was Summer Break, - and she was trapped in a therapist office.

"Are you eating? Sleeping?" She said again, Alice floated out of her daydream, turning back around to face her therapist, the lovely, Yolande de la Beauchene, the dreamy, big sister she always wanted...

"Does a candy bar count?" Alice said, fidgeting with her sleeve as she held a small, white tissue. Her knees were pressed firmly together. Her long, unruly hair pulled into a waterfall braid, a little too tight that her head hurt.

"No. It doesn't count, but Clark bar's are pretty good." Yolande said, Alice's attention now out the window, studying the trees.

"Are you sleeping?" Her voice tried to bring her back into the present.

Alice sighed, louder than usual. Feeling agitated, all she wanted to do was claw Yolande's eyes out of her skull and leave....but that's wrong....

"No," she couldn't lie

"Alison. You have to meet me half way. You promised Jeanne and I that you would eat properly and get least at eight hours."

"Are you still attending church? Father Bennigan said you are not. He tells me that you are deeply missed at Saint Brigid's," Yolande said, trying to force the conversation.

"I don't want to talk about it" Alice said, annoyed.

"Alison. Please talk to me. I can see you have at least lost three, maybe, five pounds. You don't look well," Yolande pleaded again.

She stood up, fists tight.

"No. Just stop! Just be quiet! I didn't promise you shit Yolande! I promised HER. I promised my mom. But wait, she promised me things too. She promised me that she wouldn't leave. She promised she would live forever. She fucking lied! The bitch lied! Now, just stop talking please. Yolande arrête de parler putain! Tais-Toi!!"

Yolande watched her. The room was still. Alice had never lashed out like that.

"Okay Alison. Breathe for me. This is a safe space, but I also speak French, and I will not tolerate that language. Your mother, my friend, raised you better than that," Yolande said, not breaking eye contact.

Alice stood back for second, waves of uncontrollable anger suddenly consumed her like a four year old having a meltdown in a grocery store. She lashed out again, violently knocking over the books lying on top of the small, glass coffee table, with a single swipe. The books scattered across the floor, their pages fluttering in the air before settling on the ground in an untidy heap. The glass vase holding red roses, and sadly in Alice's arm reach, also followed, shattering into a large, bulky pieces, against the wall, the deafening crash of glass echoed through the room