Alice Cullen's Story

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

               The pain grew immeasurably as I laid in the meadow, blazing. Every inch of my body was on fire – my skull, my ears, my face and neck, even my fingertips burned and the palms of my hands too. I could feel every inch of my body flaming, though my body was paralyzed, and I found myself unable to open my eyes. I was on fire, the heat smoldering me. I was a corpse, set a light.

               I tried placing my thoughts on something restful, though my mind was vacant, I couldn’t place my mind on anything firm. It was the darkness all over again – the shock treatments. But this was a singular kind of pain, even more excruciating that the electric shocks I had endured.

               I screamed as the flaming filled my gullet, making it difficult for me to breath. It felt as though someone had shoved an inferno down my throat – perhaps even worse, perhaps I was inhaling the flames of hell.

               I knew it was too good to be true – God had never protected me. He had cursed me with the wickedness, the unwanted visions. He had given me something I had never wanted, and now he handed me over to the devil – to the everlasting burning flames of hell.

               I fought against the pain as hard as I could, but it was thorny, and I felt myself floating towards a black hole. I gave in to the obscurity, forcing myself towards the dark hole. The pain grew less, and I knew I had to get closer.

               I let go of all of my sanity, as I floated within darkness – within nothingness. I felt at peace, and shoved all thoughts and memories from my mind.

               Alice… I heard a faint whisper.

               I ignored the voice, not wanting to return to the conflagration. The darkness had never been so alluring before.

               Alice… I heard my name again.

               Alice…

               Alice…

                Alice…

 

               I clasped my hands over my ears (mentally), blocking out the bell-like voice which sounded so familiar. But I also knew the voice had caused the burning, the voice had caused me to ache for the darkness.

               The voice had lied to me, so many times; he had never cared for me. I had to forget the voice; I had to shove it out of my mind. I would forget the voice – I had to. I would forget everything I knew, everything memory I had. I would drift through the darkness if that was what it took to stop the burning. I would die if that was what it took. I would disappear.

               My mother’s face flashed in front of my eyes, though I concentrated with all the effort I had to shove it away. My mother I would forget, just as she had forgotten me. I would forget my father and Cynthia too.