My Name Is Alice

Chapter 2

Inhale, exhale.

The melancholy feeling slowly extracts from my innards but memories of long ago begin. I am too in tune with the homely atmosphere to stop them.  

Fading into a different time, I open my eyes to the spirit of my dead sister. Her dirty-blonde hair is long and straight, swinging in the breeze of our outside play pen. Though her grey eyes are settled upon me, she seems distant. More distant than she once was when her heart was beating. The name of this sister is out of mind but as her hand reaches toward me, my four-year old brain registers that she's now here. So as any other younger sibling, I go in for a hug. The pressure I feel among my chest is not what the presence of her felt like. 

"Marjee..." I call out in my young voice. 

My mother's stern voice replies instead of my sister. "What did you say, Alice?" My mother would always be in the backyard with me, watching my movements and making sure no one would kidnap me. 

Margret cocked her head to look passed myself and at our mother. Assumable, she's looking back at my sudden words. I'm not at all a talker, you see, so it makes sense for her to look back. "Don't say a word of-" 

I cut her off, being so excited to see my older sister again. "Momma, momma! Looky- Marjee!" I point my stubby finger at Margret, only a few inches from the tip of my fingers. 

"What." My mother, a brunette like myself, says in a low voice. She is now behind me in the play pen.  "Margret is gone, don't speak of her!" Her harsh voice cuts through my child mind so I flinch in retreat. 

With my hand still reaching towards Marjee and my voice is shaky when I speak. "Momma. Look," I whisper. I gaze from my mother's horrid expression and back to my sister. Her face is sad, and her eyes glum. 

"I am sorry for the pain this will cause you." My sister's voice, wiser than my child mind had ever heard, states in her alto tone. Then, before my eyes, she turns back and leaves. Floating through the picket fence and leaving my sight. 

Meditation overwhelms the memory as it passes and once again, colors have become of my mind. The peaceful atmosphere has completely drawn out the depression from earlier and now happiness is settling over my aura. 

I try to open my eyes but it seems that memories keep a tight hold around my brain stem. Another comes in of my family; a day approximately two months before the banishment to the island. It's Christmas Eve, and like other holidays, my family doesn't speak to me nor do they acknowledge my presence. Since relatives don't come to visit on the Eve, every family member except Samuel is harsher than usual to me.

I've nothing to do so instead of being with the drunk father and tipsy mother, I'm walking the streets. Since our neighbors have no clue of my abilities yet know I am odd, they stay quite clear of me. 

The evening is cold but snow hasn't fallen all winter in our town of Wyess, Illinois. The chilling wind blows my very long hair behind me, but I don't mind.

My mother has never taken me for a haircut. 

My foot rhythms are deliberate even though I have no idea where I'd like to go today. 

The memory shatters when a pressure is felt on my shoulder. My eyes immediately open and I spring out of the sitting position. Too fast for my muscles to cooperate, I fall back on my bum in the green leaves. Anger pulls on my knuckles for the spirits all know never to bother me during meditation. 

A young girl looks wide-eyed at me. Red hair tethers down in ringlets, down to her waist, and violet eyes are bright against her freckled skin. Taken aback quite a bit but hopefully not showing it, I calm my anger all the way to a normal level and kneel to her height. 

"Are you Alice?"