Lovely, Page 4

  Rolling her eyes, Alice grabbed a piece of paper and a pen to compose her (fake) death note.

  Everyone,

  You don't realize how much better off you are without me. I'll never be anything. I don't matter. If you can't find my body here, I went to the river, I can die faster there.

  I love you and I'm sorry,

  Alice.

  For good measure she pricked her finger and let a few drops of blood hit the paper.

  Bracing herself, Alice took out the knife she kept in her drawer and made a small, shallow cut on her arm. She nearly cried out in pain.

  What the hell!? It had never hurt like that before...

  Whatever. It didn't matter anyway, that had been the last part of her scene.

  They would, hopefully, go off to the river to try and find her body while she escaped. It was perfect. Or almost perfect.

  The only flaw in her plan was getting out of the house without actually killing herself in the process.

  "Christ, I finally don't want to kill myself, and the universe decides it wants me dead. Go frickin' figure," she muttered, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alice paced furiously around her room like a caged animal. The window seemed like her only likely escape. It wasn't like she could just waltz downstairs and leave out the front door. She had to go out the window.

  She couldn't do that though. She'd break something for sure. Could you die from falling out a window? Even if it was only a second story window?

  Groaning, she positioned her bag's straps tightly on her shoulders. Alice carefully crawled through the window, fingers clinging fast to the gritty brick window sill.

  God, this hurt.

  Her feet searched for a foothold. She couldn't find one, and her fingers were beginning to slip.

  This night just got better and better.

  She rolled her eyes and let go of the ledge, plummeting to the ground below.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Ow, ow, ow! Shit, that hurt," Alice grumbled softly to herself, sitting down in the grass for a moment to let the adrenaline rush wear off. Besides, her hands and ankles stung horribly and it was no use trying to get anywhere when she was still in so much pain.

  Gingerly, she ran her throbbing hand over her ankles and feet. No broken bones and no sprains either, she noted as she stood up slowly.

  That was good. If she had broken anything she wouldn't have been able to dance.

  "Now... Where to go?" Alice asked herself as she brushed grass and dirt off her skin and clothing.

  She considered going to Krista's, but realized that would be where they looked for her first if they didn't believe her suicide note. There went that plan.

  Lisa's house was out of the question. They were out of town this week, and besides, Lisa's parents loathed Alice, almost as much as her own parents did. Something about not wanting little dancing whores around their daughter.

  She had never really liked Lisa's parents much anyway.

  There were no other people Alice could turn to; no one in her family would believe that her parents were abusive... Her plan was ruined... Unless...

  No, she couldn't. However much he acted like a father-figure to her, he still wouldn't want to see her on his doorstep at this hour.

  But, he was her last hope. Even if nothing came of it, she would buy more time for herself.

  Alice chewed gently on her tongue. What the hell? She had to do something.

  With a long-suffering sigh she began on her long trek to Eric's home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  In those seconds that Alice had been clinging to the window ledge, and then falling, she had gotten a lot of thinking done. A dangerous pastime. Bizarrely enough, her thoughts were far, far away from where she was at currently. They were back in another place, another time.

  She was reminiscing about the first time she had ever cut herself. How many years ago had that been? It had to be three or four years back... A few months before her twelfth birthday. It seemed so idiotic now. It just...

  Now cutting herself seemed like the stupidest thing in the world to have done. She was such a moron it nearly put her in a state of shock. But it had seemed like the only way to cope then...

  Then... When then was just a few hours ago, it felt like a lifetime or more. She pictured her first scar in her mind's eye; she had never forgotten where that scar was.

  The first time she cut, she felt numb. An ice-cold numbness spread over her. It didn't hurt. Nothing hurt. Alice didn't want to die in that moment. In the 15 minutes of calm, she realized she wanted to live.

  After that the pain was a little bit more bearable, as long as she had cutting to turn back to. It didn't take long for self-harm not to be enough for her to function off of. She started thinking about other ways to end the pain.

  She thought about suicide. Originally, the thought of how Krista and Lisa would feel if she died would have been enough to push back all those thoughts. Then, all of a sudden, it wasn’t anymore. All of a sudden she was thinking of how she would do it. When she wouldn't get caught. Where she couldn't be caught and saved.

  Then she told Lisa. She couldn't tell Krista. She didn't want to hurt Krista like that. She'd save Krista the pain until the last possible moment.

  Yes, even with all of her internal pain, Alice couldn't bear to have Krista feel even a fraction of that. Her parents were a different story.

  Alice had wanted her mother to be the one who found her. She wanted her mother to realize what she did.

  She wanted her mother to feel her pain.

  It's amazing what you think of hanging on a window ledge, Alice mused.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ringing the doorbell at eleven o'clock was rather awkward. It was even more awkward when Eric opened his front door wearing a robe and slippers. The surprise was evident on his face as he stared at her for several long seconds, scrambling to wake his brain up.

  "Alice?" he asked tiredly, but not unkindly. "Why are-- It's the middle of the night, Alice. Why aren't you at home? What happened?"

  Alice froze for a moment as she realized Eric was staring openly at the bruise on her cheek. She looked down at the ground, trying to force the words to come out.

  "My parents-- not right-- I -- they-- um..."

  "I knew it," Eric muttered to himself, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, but withdrawing it quickly when her face contorted in pain. "Do you want to come in?"

  Alice nodded gratefully and, in a few seconds, she found herself seated on a couch in Eric's living room. She shifted uncomfortably before moving silently to the piano. To calm herself down, she began to play Mozart's Lacrimosa, steering her thoughts away from the raging storm and towards the music.

  Eric watched her play for a few minutes before clearing his throat. Alice paused, her hands stilled for only second, waiting for him to say something. When no words came, she continued to play quietly.

  "Alice, I talked to your parents earlier, and--" he stopped for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. He knew he couldn't just bluntly ask her if her parents abused her, even if the answer was marked plainly on her face in purple and blue.

  "And I... Alice, they don't treat you right, do they?"

  He looked over at Alice and was startled to see her bent over the keys, still playing and crying silently. Instinctively, he went over to her and drew the frail young woman into a comforting embrace.

  All of her self-control gave way to the tide of emotions, and her tears were no longer silent as the teenager sobbed in earnest. Her mask had fallen to the floor and shattered, taking away the image of perfect loveliness she always projected. The girl sitting on the piano bench was no longer the strong, beautiful, and oh-so-talented Alice, instead there was Alice. Just Alice. A sad, scared little girl covered in scars and bruises.

  "It okay, Alice. It's alright. I won't make you go back there," Eric soothed, rubbing her back
as she cried out her agony into his chest.

  There was a moment of peace that was ruined completely by the sound of loud pounding from the front door.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Alice, you get your ass out here this instant! We know you're in there, girl!"

  Alice stiffened and moved away from the door, eyes narrowed. The sound of her mother's voice sent shivers cascading down her spine.

  “We do legally have to let them know you're here," Eric noted. Alice muttered frustrated curse words in French under her breath.

  There was another bang at the door. Eric strode out of the room to go open the door as Alice braced herself for a messy confrontation.

  Angry murmurs of conversation drifted to where Alice was still sitting motionless. The voices grew louder and louder until Alice could hear them as clearly as if they were standing in front of her screaming.

  "You bring the brat out here now! We can charge you with kidnapping!"

  "Really? Can you? What happens when I tell the police that you're beating the shit out of her?"

  "Are you really buying into the shit that little whore is selling? She's a liar and a drama queen!"

  "The bruises say otherwise."

  Her mother's urgent voice cut through her father's angry one.

  "We can't help it if the child is clumsy!"

  The voices grew quieter again until they died down completely and Eric stormed back into the house alone.

  "They're demanding to talk to you," Eric said shortly, sounding peeved. "They say they'll call the police right now if they don't get to."

  Alice bit her lip and walked to the door, trembling with nervousness and anxiety.

  "Alice, come home now," her father barked sharply.

  "No-no," she stammered, hardly able to find her voice.

  "What was that girl?" he hissed.

  Suddenly, Alice recalled why she liked never seeing her father. Why she had run away in the first place.

  The painful bruises on her body bore witness to the fact that her life at home was anything but pleasant. That it had been anything but pleasant since Alice was a very little girl.

  "I said no."

  Her voice squeaked. She couldn't take a stand for herself with her voice squeaking like she was a mouse. No one listened to mice.

  "No," she said, more firmly. "I won't come home with you."

  If looks could kill, Alice would have been dead and buried a hundred times over.

  "Why the hell not?" her mother screeched furiously, reaching out and grabbing her daughter's arm tightly. Her nails dug into Alice's arm and the girl began to lose her grip on her self-control.

  Alice jerked away violently, tension circulating, her hands balling themselves into fists as her temper rose fast and furiously.

  "Because I said no! Because you hate me and I hate you! Because he hits me! Because you don't care and you never, ever did!"

  Alice ripped off her jacket and yanked her shirt sleeve up to show her parents the scars and cuts all of her arm, eyes smoldering with a long suppressed hatred.

  "You see these!? They're your fault! Your fucking fault! Every drop of blood I’ve lost, every tear I ever cried is your fault! I want you to live the rest of your sad, pathetic lives knowing that. That, and the fact that I will never forgive you. I will never give you forgiveness!

  Alice took in several calming breaths, the flames of her fury dying down slightly to be replaced with a cold contempt.

  "That is why I am not going home with you."

  And with that, she promptly walked back inside and slammed the door shut in their faces, being sure to lock it before she turned to Eric.

  "It's over," she smiled, beaming deliriously at Eric before collapsing on the ground in a dead faint.

  Closure

  Chapter Eighteen

  "So, Alice, how has your week been?"

  Alice stretched lazily, smiling as the sun streaming though the open window warmed the skin on her arms, which, for once, were not covered.

  "It's been good. It's been a nice week. Krista and Lisa are coming over later, they're going to stay the night," she reporting, drawing her legs into her chest and resting her chin on her knee comfortably.

  "Aren't you a little old for sleepovers?" he questioned teasingly.

  "Pfft. Of course not," she said, shaking her head.

  "They're going to help me paint my room, and then we'll hang out and maybe go out to eat."

  "That sounds pleasant. What color?" her psychiatrist asked.

  "Sky blue, like the color of my nails," she replied, displaying her newly painted nails to him. "Aren't they pretty Dr. Al?"

  "Very much so. It's a serene color," he noted.

  "Yep."

  It had been six months since Alice's flight for freedom, and a lot had changed, but all the changes in her life were definitely for the better.

  Eric had been working so that he could officially adopt her, and the papers were finalized today. It wasn't hard to make her parents give up custody of her, because he caught her fight with her parents on camera, and immediately brought her to the hospital afterwards to document the damage they had done to her. They had gone to get all her things last week, to move them into her new room in Eric's house. He continually joked that her had always wanted a chirpy soprano for a daughter, and Alice loved him dearly for it. It made everything so much less awkward then it could have been, and helped clear away some of her doubts and insecurities.

  Alice was now seeing a psychiatrist twice a week because Eric had thought it might be a good idea for her to get all of this off her chest. At first, Alice had been vehemently opposed to the idea, but she relented when Krista had asked for her to consider it seriously.

  It wasn't as weird as she had thought it would be. The psychiatrist asked her to just call him Doctor Al, as it was a lot less formal and a heck of a lot easier to pronounce than Doctor Malison.

  Everything is going pretty well, Alice thought, smiling to herself.

  "Alice, have you been thinking about that night recently?" Dr. Al inquired, breaking into her thoughts.

  "Uh, a little, I guess. Not really..." Alice said truthfully. She was happy enough now not to dwell on how bad everything had been before now.

  "That's good. Would you do anything different if you could?"

  Alice paused and thought long and hard about it. She bit her lip gently and thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side as she pondered her answer carefully. After a long moment, she shook her head.

  "No... No," she answered finally. "Because, if I had, I wouldn't be here, would I? I wouldn't have gotten it right."

  Dr. Al gave her a slightly confused look, but smiled none-the-less, making Alice burst out laughing, a sound rarely heard before these past few months.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Hi, Eric!” Alice chirped, slinging her purse onto the counter.

  Eric looked up from the piano and rolled his eyes at her, giving her a playful glare. One of his younger students gawked at Alice, making her smile grow wider.

  “Hey, Krista and Lisa are coming over at four and I’m going to go take a shower before then, alright?” Alice said in one breath, not wanting to intrude anymore upon the child’s singing lesson.

  “Okay, then,” Eric replied, not missing a beat in his piano playing.

  “M’kay, sorry for interrupting!”

  With that, she left the room, smiling brightly to herself.

  As she walked into the bathroom, she could hear the child asking Eric what has just happened.

  Alice loved it when Eric got new students.

  Chapter Twenty

  She stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel to wrap her hair up with before stopping dead. Gleaming on the counter in front of her was a demon from her past, lying there all too innocently, as if it belonged.

  It was just a box cutter, probably left out from when Alice and Eric were unpacking boxes earlier. It hadn't seemed threatening then. But now,
she was alone with it, which Dr. Al had absolutely forbidden.

  She wrapped the towel more tightly around her, stealing a glance at her wrist. The blood in her veins ached, seeming to push against the skin, begging her to release it.

  No... No, she couldn't. She absolutely could not.

  But, God, how she wanted to.

  "Why though?" she murmured to herself, rubbing her wrist with the heel of her palm. "Why do I want to?"

  Leaning against the wall for support, Alice's eyes locked on the blade. The metal glinted beautifully under the harsh lights of the bathroom, calling her forward towards it, tempting her.

  "No..." she moaned quietly, yearning to reach forward and take it.

  "It's so tempting... I could... Just once...But, no, I can't... Although-- maybe if it was just once... What can one more cut do?" she asked herself quietly, her voice the barest whisper.

  Her mind wandered back to another time and place when she had been thinking scarily similar thoughts.

  Krista held the blade in her hand, staring at it in shock. She kept shaking her head for several minutes, in absolute disbelief. She would deny it to herself but the blood stains on the blade told her all she needed to know. After what seemed like an eternity, she turned to face Alice.

  "What the hell is this?" Krista demanded; voice quiet but sharp. The expletive made it seem like she was screaming though, Krista never cursed.

  Alice couldn't answer her. She stood paralyzed as Krista strode over to her.

  "Take off your jacket," she ordered, leaving no room for opposition. Numbly, Alice complied.

  She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt.

  Give up, Krista, Alice mentally pleaded. Decide that this is too much effort and you really don't want to know anyway. You don't want to know.

  "Top too."

  Part of Alice died, but she nodded and removed it with trembling hands. She had never imagined being confronted about this. Her mind and body were strangely disjointed. Her body was here, obeying Krista's commands, while her mind floated off in space somewhere.

  Krista's soft scream of shock drew Alice's mind back to her body. She moved away from Krista, and away from the lights that revealed a torso and arms covered in scars.