Her Murky Past
"I feel strangely anxious tonight. Something is going to happen. I can feel the static in the air. I am afraid and excited at the same time. Perhaps, just maybe, my blonde knight will save me from this terrible place. My mind somewhat at ease, I lay down to dream of my fair skinned angel. Just as I begin to drift off, I am jarred awake by a vision. This is not a normal daydream, I can tell. I watch in confusion, what is to come..."
I do not own any of the recognized characters. They are all property of Stephenie Meyers! I hope you all enjoy my interpretation of what happened before the fact!
Rating 0/5 Word Count 1545 Review this Chapter
Chapter 2: Dreams
“Alice! Alice, wake up!” A nurse I have never seen before shook me hard. “You have a new friend.”
She led a tall redhead into my cell, my cell. She looks at me with a confused expression and sits on the plastic covered mattress on iron bed across from mine, hiding her face with a wall of hair. She has a beautiful, but tired face. She has been through a lot, I can tell.
Hopefully she doesn’t mind if I skip out on her every once in a while. I wonder what happened to her?
The nurse starts to repeat meaningless information in a bored monotone voice to the new girl who doesn’t seem to care. When the nurse finally leaves in her ugly grey shapeless robe, the room screamed with an awkward silence.
After about five actual minutes, the girl says nothing. I guess I'm going to have to initiate this relationship.
“Hello.” I half whisper. I haven’t heard my voice in so long, it sounds so dry, dead.
“…” She just looks at me with tired, weary eyes like I am going to eat her, which, of course, would be disgusting. Plus, there wouldn't be anything to eat anyway. She is so thin, for her height. Still, not a word. Maybe she can’t talk. Ugh, how fun.
“My name is Mary Alice Brandon. What is yours?” I try use hand motions as I talk, but I am probably telling her that she smells like poop, for all I know. I feel so stupid, but I am not about to spend my time with someone and not talk to them. I can hear her struggling to breathe, her lungs not filling completely.
“Elizabeth Hazel de Rossi, and I am not deaf." she managed to say with a hint of a smile. Her pretty red hair waved long down to the middle of her back, but it was ratted and greasy. She looks as if she hasn't been taken care of, or loved, in a very long time. "Nice to meet you." She said nothing else. I hate forcing people to talk, so I just lay down in my bed and begin to drift off to sleep.
* Looking around, I see a meadow. It's so beautiful. My mother, father, and sister sit in the center of the meadow. I run to them, "Momma! Daddy, I'm here! Cynthia! I'm right here!" When I finally reach them, they don't move at all. Daddy stands there with his best suit on. His face is much older than the last time I saw him.
"Daddy! What's wrong?" He doesn't move. It's like he is ignoring me. I move over to my mother, whose head is hung low and her shoulders bounce up and down with her sobs. "Momma! Momma don't cry I am right here!" She doesn't look up. "Look at me!" I yell at her. Never in my life have I ever raised my voice at my mother. She doesn't even flinch. It's like she can't even hear me.
"Cynthia?" Sobs catch in my throat as I slowly move towards my sister. Tears threaten to fall as I realized that I am dreaming. Not a vision, just a dream. None of this is real. Or is it? "Cynthia? Can you hear me?"
She looks up from the ground and stares right at me. Right through me. Her eyes are red and swollen from crying. The light that used to shine from her face is no longer present. She turns around and walks off with Momma and Daddy, her face looked defeated. They walked away together and disappeared.
Acid tears spilled over and ran down my cheeks. I sat on the ground and wept, allowing the them to burn away my memories. Grief washed over me like a tsunami. I turned around to get up, not knowing what one does in a dream turned nightmare, and saw something that made my already broken heart shatter into a million and one pieces.
A tombstone, small and grey, sat before me. It stared at me, laughing in triumph. I didn't want to look, but I knew if I didn't that I would regret it. The name read 'Mary Alice Brandon'. And the date was October 27th, 1920. I cried out in agony when I realized what they had done. The date was the same day that I was admitted into the Asylum. Even though I know I am dreaming, I can feel that this is the truth. They thought that my visions were too much of a burden for the family name. I am dead to them.
Why would they do that to me? How could they? Am I not a member of the family, with or without my visions. Can they not love me for who I am? No, they can't. Well, now that they are rid of the eccentric oddball of a daughter they can have a perfect family.
Being as stubborn as I am, I refuse let this make me go crazy. I am not what they think I am. I am a normal girl who just so happens to see a glimpse of the future every once in a while. I would like to think that I would have more friends.
As I am sitting on the ground, I hear a faint whisper. Somebody humming. It sounds almost celtic-like, and seems to rise from the ground. The louder it gets, I realize that it is a girl singing. I have never heard the song before, but it sounds vagely familiar.
"occhi rossi, capelli biondi, la sua pelle è di porcellana l'accattonaggio di seguire. Si beve in lui e, ancora una volta, vince e si rende cavo..."
What language is that? French? No, Spanish? Maybe...
"Il Signore della notte, lui è un Vampiro. Il tuo sangue ha presto deglutire..." *
Italian! It is Italian. My head starts to spin. The pretty meadow around me slowly fades out and the lifeless white walls of my cell room fade in. The breeze that was playing with my hair died out with the dream as I began to wake, but the humming did not.
"Se non sopravvivere che la bellezza che è il suo. La tua vita sarà sicuramente seguire."
"Elizabeth, are you asle-"
"Rossi." she interupted. She was sitting in the exact same position as when I went to sleep."
"Excuse me?" I ask in confusion?
"Call me Rossi, it means 'one with red hair' in Italian." she whispered. So she is capable of carrying on a conversation. Rossi, it's nice.
"It fits then. Was that you singing?" I ask. The song still played in my head, whatever it was. lui è un Vampiro.
"I can't sleep, I don't anymore. I sing to pass the time, I apologize if it bothers you." she said. She turned her head around to face me and I could see that she is in desperate need of a friend.
"No, it doesn't. It was beautiful. Was that an Italian song?" I wonder. Is her family Italian? Why would she be here in Biloxi?
"I have never heard it before. I just kept hearing it in my head, like the wind whispered it to me. I can't stop singing it, but it frightens me."
"Why? What does it mean?" For some reason, I am afraid to ask. Can it have anything to do with my awkward visions? After my last vision of James, I have tried to push the thought of him out of my mind.
"Occi rossi, capelli biondi, la sua pelle è di porcellana l'acattonaggio di seguire means 'red eyes, blond hair, his porcelain skin is begging you to follow." she translates in her head. She must be fluent.
Wait, red eyes, blond hair? Porcelain skin? Could she be talking about...
"Si beve in lui e, ancora una volta, vince e si rende cavo. Il signore della notte, un Vampiro egli è. Il tuo sangue è presto inghiottire voi non sopravvivere alla sua bellezza thats, la vostra vita sarà sicuramente seguire means 'you drink him in and once again he wins and makes you hollow. The Lord of the night, a Vampire he is. Your blood he soon will swallow. You will not survive the beauty thats his, your life will surely follow." She finished and the room was silent.
Surely she didn't mean James. How could she know? I have never spoken of him to anyone. My heart starts beating faster and faster as I realize that maybe all is not what it seems. And with my most recent vision of James, I am starting to believe that.