Alice, Alice

Chapter One: A Childhood Friend

            “Not again, Alice!” her mother scolded.

            Four year-old Alice sat on the floor, hands covered with mud and dirt. Any child would have been scolded for making a mess, possibly tracking mud into the house, or rough housing with their playmates. Not Alice. Alice’s rough housing was so extreme, her playmate was crying, red faced with splotches of mud around his mouth where she’d been forcing him to eat mud.

            And at the same time that her mother found her and began to scold, Alice blinked and began to cry loudly. As well as suddenly being scolded, she was also confused as to why she was dirty and the same for her innocent playmate.

            Events such as these happened often.

-          -

            Five years later, Alice found herself in the principal’s office. This was also a reoccurring event. Alice worried for herself as she thought she had developed some sort of short-term memory loss. She would often cry when she found herself here, or with other sorts of authorities.

            Her mother would normally be there, too, and crying along with her. It was something Alice felt more ashamed of than the things she had apparently done to earn herself a spot on the bench in front of the principal’s office. She listened intently while her eyes watered and her tears dripped from her chin.

            “Your daughter is becoming more violent. Every time she comes here, it’s because another student, or even in some cases teachers, are getting hurt.” The principal’s voice echoed through the crack of the door in front of Alice.

            Her mother’s shaky voice responded with a question Alice heard too often. “What did she do?” And then another. “Who did she hurt?”

            There was a sentimental pause, and then a long sigh. Alice rubbed her eyes and sniffled during the silence. Something clacked against the desk in the principal’s office, and she heard her mother’s gasp, followed by a sob. Alice’s tears started again, more fluently than the previous few.

“She stabbed one of the students,” the principal began. He sounded sorrowful; very deeply saddened by his own explanation. “He was taunting her, I suppose. Mrs. Rook informed me that he had turned away, laughing with his peers when Alice grabbed a pair of scissors and…” Alice’s mother sobbed again, cutting him off for a moment. He sounded regretful as he finished. “She just barely missed his spinal cord. He could have been paralyzed if she had done more harm than that.”

“My god,” Alice heard her mother sob. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her… She’s always been so out of control. I don’t know what to do!” Alice listened as her mother heaved with her sobs and gulps of air. “What will happen to her? Is the boy okay?” The questions were frantic.

“The boy was bleeding profusely,” the principal answered. The only words that hit Alice before her mother’s sob broke between them again. He continued again, adding, “The mother was hesitant to press any charges or become too involved with the police without confronting you and your husband first.”

Alice wiped her eyes again, sniffling before she stood. The principal’s door opened fully a few moments later. Alice looked up at her mother, whose glare smoldered her before it turned away along with her mother’s body. Alice followed her hateful mother, and was taken to the hospital to see the classmate she had hurt so badly.

-          -

It had been a year and three months since Alice found out about her personality disorder. She had never had the opportunity to meet the other Alice, though. Not that she was complaining. Alice was afraid of her other self, knowing how violent the personality was. To this day, she remembered the boy in the hospital. He shook when he laid eyes on her; even began to cry.

Her counselor buried his face into his hand. A deep sigh followed. She stared at the floor intently, pushing the memory from her mind. Her lips were creased into a firm line, as if she wouldn’t allow a single word to escape. Not as much as a breath.

“You don’t remember anything from yesterday?” the counselor was asking. He lifted his head to look at her, though she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

She shook her head and began focusing on the wall to her right. Pictures were lined there on the blank wall. She felt as if each one was etched into her mind. If she had been away from this room for two weeks, then asked to describe it, she could do so. She would focus on anything except her counselor.

“Another student was hurt,” her counselor answered for her. “Thanks to you, Alice.”

Alice felt the corner of her lips twitch and her hand automatically rose to smack it. Not myself, she thought. She smacked it again as it pulled higher, tighter. “No!” she told herself.

“Yes!” her counselor told her. “That student was put in the hospital because of you, Alice.”

Laughter erupted. “So what if it was?” Alice’s voice was gone, replaced by a voice slightly richer. Like an older personality, and a devious one. Her laughter died. “He deserved it.” Her eyes locked on her counselor’s, who looked somewhere between intrigued and frightened. “Nobody pushes around my sweet Alice.”

“Except you,” the counselor challenged.

Alter Alice cocked her head, eyes boring into his. His flickered away and he swallowed. “I don’t push sweet Alice. I protect her; I love her.” She smiled a Cheshire cat smile. “She’s my world, isn’t she? I should only care for the body that holds me so dearly.” Her voice was soothing. “You won’t get in my way,” she added gently.

The counselor shook his head, leaning back in his comfortable chair. “You’re not helping Alice if you’re putting other lives in danger. It’s not protecting her if she’s in trouble with authorities every time you show up.”

Alter Alice seemed to think about this for a moment. Her smile spread over her lips once again with a realization she possibly already had figured out. “Alice won’t be hurt if she isn’t put in a situation that could occur on a daily basis.”

The counselor looked confused. “You can’t be saying that—“

“But I am,” she cut him off. “Alice will be safe in a new home made especially for her. One in which we can live together happily and peacefully. I will not be disturbed.”

The counselor had nothing left to say. His expression was still sorrowful when Alice found herself staring at him blankly a few minutes later.