II. What Alice Found There

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"Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

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What was wrong with the day? It wasn't somehow special now, was it? It wasn't Friday 13th – that much I knew for sure, so why was everything screwed up since the early morning? At first, thisSam-call-me-bossy-owner guy appeared at Emily's, kicking me out of the house before I managed to finish my breakfast. Now, on my way to school, a policeman stopped me for going too fast in the middle of the wild. What was going to happen next... Santa's reindeers attack me?



I stopped the Golf on the edge of the road as I rolled down the window. The policeman must have noticed my desperate sigh because his dark brown eyes softened the moment he looked at my face.



"Good morning, Sheriff," I beeped out quietly, not really looking at him. I felt far too guilty to do so.



"M'rning, m'rning," he murmured back. "You were driving too fast, ma'am, did you realize that?"



Although I opened my mouth to defend myself, no words escaped it. That was why I simply nodded my head, earning a low scoff from him. "You will have to give me your documents, including driving license and technical data sheet."



Handing him all the necessary documents I remained silent, counting how much the fine was going to cost Hayden. To understand, this wasn't the first time I passed the speed limits; it was the first time I was caught doing so though.


"I-I was just hurrying to school, Officer. This is my first day and I... didn't want to be late," I blurted out as sincerely as I could. Of course that it was my technical sense that made me go fast, not the need to be at school in time. "Moreover, the car- "



"Chief Swan, good morning," a voice sounded from behind the policeman, and I simply had to move my eyes onto the intruder. Not only that I hadn't noticed someone else being stopped by the police before, neither had I ever heard such a beautiful voice. The moment it reached my ears actually, I felt like throwing all the CDs with Mendelssohn-Bartholdy's music into the rubbish bin, replacing it with a record of this person's voice (so much to my undying love towards Mendelssohn-Bartholdy). "If I could intervene, it was me who passed the speed limit at first, not her."



"Alice. It's good to see you," the man turned to face her, nodding his head. Wait... her. It was a woman, whose name was Alice. Oh my, how was it I haven't looked at her yet?


My jaw literally fell down when I spotted her. She had straight brown hair, cut at the level of her slightly pointed ears. Her small, heart-shaped face, in general, reminded me of a porcelain doll, being pale enough to challenge any average wall. Her aristocratic nose matched her full, pink lips perfectly. The domain of this whole Alice-woman however, was her big, sincere (yet cunning), golden eyes. She was beautiful. No, that was too common word; she was stunning. Probably a Victoria's Secret model arranged into Forks to remind me of how ugly and fat I was.



"Pardon her, Chief Swan. She only wanted to... get rid of me." And her voice... damn, was it even possible to become addicted to one's voice?

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