Alice March is the third youngest daughter, she's a singer and a dreamer. The feeling of love is one that she craves, she longed for that feeling. She wanted someone to be utterly devoted to her, and Theodore Laurence gave her that.
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Alice was sat in a field against a tree, awaiting her sister as she wrote her poems in the same notebook Laurie had gifted her all those years ago.
"Hello, Alice." Laurie says, Alice not looking up from her writings. "I do not wish to see you." Alice says simply as she continues writing. "Alice, please don't be mad at me." Laurie says, Alice raising a brow.
"Have you been drinking?" Alice questions, noticing his current state. "Why are you being so hard on me? It's 4 p.m." Laurie says as Alice stands, brushing her dress free of grass.
"Someone has to do it." Alice murmurs as she begins walking. "When do you begin publishing you poetry world wide Ms. Dickenson?" Laurie questions, Alice shaking her head.
"Never." She says. ""Never"? What? Why?" Laurie questions. "Even if I could why would I wish to live up to others expectations when I can barely live up to my own." Alice says as she turns to Laurie who looked at her in slight shock.
"If I myself cannot see myself being great, then why bother. I want to be great or nothing." Alice says softly. "Why would you give up something so incredibly inspiring." Laurie questions, slowly getting closer to Alice who cleared her throat.
"My dear old Aunt March wishes for me to court and eventually marry a man who is 10 years my senior, and eventually become an ornament to society. I do not believe the dreams of a foolish poet would be included in that plan." Alice says.
"Who is the man?" Laurie questions, his tone showing evident anger and slight shock at the prospect of Alice being with another man. "Mr. Allan Duvall." Alice answers. "Do you love him?" Laurie questions.
"I only just met the man." Alice says in disbelief. "Do you not believe in love at first sight?" Laurie questions. "Why should I believe in it?" Alice questions. "Many of the poets do." Laurie refutes, Alice chuckling.
"I no longer feel the need to deem myself as a poet. I am simply a woman." Alice says as she smiles softly yet bitterly.
"And as a woman, there's no way for me to make my own money. Not enough to earn a living or to support my family." Alice begins, Laurie sobering up for a moment and truly listening to her words.
"If I had my own money, which I don't, that money would belong to my husband the moment we got married. If we had children, they would be his, not mine. They would be his property. So don't sit there and tell me that marriage isn't an economic proposition, because it is. It used to not be, but now it truly does seem it to be." Alice says as she sees her sister walking from the studio.
"I must be going." Alice says as she rushes back over to her spot, grabbing her coat and putting it on, brushing the grass from the dark purple material.
"How do I look?" She questions as she looks to the man she once fell in love with. "You look beautiful." Laurie says, Alice looking at him, her eyes soft. "You are beautiful." Laurie says after a pause.
