Alice: Bloodbath

Piss and Mud III

Her white stockings were stained as the concrete ground was damp due to the soft rain that had been falling. Her blonde locks felt like hay; dead and dry. As she tried to stand up, she felt a sharpening pain at the back of her head. Luckily, tho, there were no superficial wounds, nor blood was running down from nowhere. Her vision, nonetheless, was still blurry. The crowd around her would step back if she dared to walk near them, thinking that she might be carrying some kind of deadly disease like those sewer rats do. She looked down to her fists. There were small scratches all over them. As she focused deeper on her left palm, she could make out a small needle-looking thorn stuck into it. She tried to remove it, but it was rather too painful to take it out by hand - also it was very much unsanitary.

"Where have you been?!You smell like piss! Your uncle's gone for the most part of the day trying to find you! What is this mess?! What happened?!", said her aunt Rose-Mary just as soon as the doorknob twisted and the wooden rotten door was open.
"I-I'm sorry.. I really didn't mean to worry y--"
"Excuses! Like the ones your mother used to say! Guess this family never learned proper manners, huh? Oh, poor Robert, you sweet pea. You passed away so early, didn't even get to meet your newborn nephew. Oh, my poor heart..", Rose-Mary started mumbling underneath her breath.
"Couldn't you at least get his brains?! You got your mother's looks and brains.. At least you're pretty on the outside", she continued mumbling. Alice felt her head turning hot with angery. If she could, she would have punched her dirty-mouthed aunt in the face until her teeth were broken so she could choke to death on her own blood. She restrained herself from doing that, though. Just the thought of her shutting her aunt once and for all was satisfying in her head.
"Anyways..", her aunt said witn a sarcastic tone in her voice, "..you should go to the Rabbit Man tomorrow, pick up some herbs for tomorrow's roast. The adoption centre people are coming over to check on our papers, see if we are fit enough to be proclaimed as your parents. I want to make them something special!". Alice sighed. I guess it's been a month..
"Yes, aunt Rose-Mary", she said as she headed towards the staircase and up to her room.
"And don't you ever go missing again young lady! You haven't seen the real me..yet", said Rose-Mary and finished her sentence with an evil smirk as she was sharpening the kitchen knife for tomorrow's turkey.

The creaking of the wooden floor made her skin crawl. How long have I been gone for?, she wondered to herself. Shattered glass for all over the floor. With careful steps, she sat on her mattress and a spring was poking through her muddy blue dress. She let out a painful sigh. The previous tension between her aunt and herself made her forget about the thorn sinking more into her skin as the day would go by. It was time to get rid of it. 

She run to her uncle's and aunt's bedroom and with careful steps, she opened the drawer of the  nightstand right next to their king bed. Uncle James keeps a bottle of whiskey in this drawer.. hopefully there's still a few drops of it left.  Her uncle was a hopeless56-year-old alcoholic man. Unemployed, as well. Used to beat his ex-wife to death, because, as rumors have it, she couldn't bear any children. Didn't serve no time in jail, that heartless bastard. Poor Emily, she didn't deserve to be treated like that.., thought Alice to herself once again. Well, only God knows where she could be now. One foggy day, she decided to leave the house once and for all. She planned her whole escape; she boiled a pretty good amount of valeriana - more than the recommended intake - and poured it in uncle Jame's bubbly bath. Just a few minutes later, he fell fast asleep. Right at that moment, she saw her chance to escape. And so she did..

Bottle of whiskey in hand, she walked as quite as possible past Donald's bedroom, her cousin. He was staring at Alice with his ocean blue eyes through the small opening of his door. Alice had no clue. But Donald was curious. As she finally went back to her room, she quietly tried to lock the door, just so no one would find out she had stolen her uncle's precious liquor. She wouldn't dare to drink it anyways. Just the smell of it would make her sick. She tore apart a little piece of her dirty dress and used it as a cloth to dampen it with whiskey. A deep exhale run out of her chapped lips and her right index finger got ahold of the thorn. She bit her lower lip as the pulling would go. It was more painful than she had anticipated. She shut her eyes tight so she could put more force in action. But, she couldn't hold her scream inside her lungs any longer. She softly screamed and her eyes got watery. It was as if this sharp thing just wouldn't budge. After a few unsuccessful tries, she finally got it out of her fist.

Alice slowly started opening her eyes. She ran her orbs onto her wound. Black goo was coming out of it. Vision started getting blurry, again. Her breathing was almost non existent and the beating of her heart was dangerously slow. She froze in her place, her hand and clothes covered in black goo.
"Alice.. your tea is getting cold.."