| Alice continued |
[19 Dec 2004|05:45pm] |
poor Jack didn't realize just what a recluse Alice was. how could he understand what life was like for her? this girl who only left her room three times a day, and saw only three other people, and had been doing so since her mother's death, back when she was a child. and yet, Jack was unable to help himself.
he began spending more and more time in his garden, thinking of Alice and trying to catch glimpses of her. for the longest time, however, he saw nothing, till finally all he could remember was sparkling eyes and long, long, beautiful blonde hair.
one day, as Alice was combing her hair, her stepfather barged in, sniffed at the sight of her hair, and demanded that she cook lunch. after he had stomped away, she carefully wound her now very long hair into a rather large bun, and started off downstairs. she hadn't cut it since her mother's death, and without putting it up, it trailed down past her heels and she would sometimes step on it. one of her stepsisters had noticed, and complained jealously over the locks. her father had threatened to cut them then and there, but Alice had managed to avoid it so far by keeping it up when she was downstairs. now, however, as she served soup and cut loafed-bread, the youngest sister, Drizella, pipped up, "oh my God! OH MY GOD! THERE'S A HAIR IN MY SOUP!" she screamed it, holding up an imaginary strand.
Anastasia, following her younger sister's lead, looked carefully over her soup and pulled out an imaginary hair as well "mine too! MINE TOO!"
"Daddy! Daddy! she's getting hair in our food! her hair is too long! make her cut it!!" Dru yelled again.
"No! NO!" screamed Alice. she turned and tried to run from the kitchen, but her stepfather grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back. Alice screamed in pain and shock. as much as he hated her, her stepfather had never laid a hand on her, never done anything meaner than make her clean the house.
"you will cut it," he said calmly, "you will go upstairs and cut it, and if it is not cut my dinner time, i will shave you bald."
with that, he let her go and pushed her towards the stairs. Alice ran for it, crying. the stairs seemed to writhe beneath her feet, as though from some demonic world. the pictures on the walls laughed and leered at her; some made faces. she finally reached the attic and slammed the door against the hellish place behind her.
dramatically, she flung herself on her bed and began to cry. she didn't cry often about her predicament; indeed, she thought herself well off, not having to face the real world. still, her hair, her hair was something she wanted to keep. she loved it, it reminded her of her mother. her mother had had such beautiful hair...
at dinner time, when her stepfather came up the steps, he came with scissors and razor in hand. Alice stood in the middle of the room, somewhat defiant, with her long hair swept behind her like a cape that curled around her feet at the ends. her stepfather wasted no time. he dragged her to the window, pulled her hair into a rough ponytail, and cut it straight off. to Alice's dismay, he threw the long tail out the window. she cried and reached out as though to grab it, but it was long out of her graspe even before he jerked her back inside. he applied the razor carefully, but without love, and soon every last shred of her hair lay on the floor around her. "i expect you to shower fast, and get rid of the little hairs before you cook supper. hurry up."
with that, he left.
Jack also grew in his garden various types of flowers, which he would lay in and look up at the stars. he was doing so one night, when he heard a cry from a neighboring house. he looked up at Alice's window just in time to see something being thrown out it. curious, he got up and ambled over to their yard, only to find a tangle of hair laying beneath the window. Alice's hair.
it's beautiful even when it's not attached to her head, he thought. it was strange, though, to find it just lying here, but never the less he took it home.
that night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Alice decided to do what she had never done before. she was going to sneak out. she had to find her hair, it was all that was left of her mother. she pulled on her favorite blue dress, and a white apron over top, then went to the door and tried it.
it was locked.
Alice felt dumb. of course it would be locked. what if she had tried to escape years ago? never the less, it was a creepy feeling to think that she had stayed in here all these years of her own freewill, not because she was forced, as she had never known before the door stayed locked.
creepy, eh? i'm getting bored though, so again we come to a stopping point. PS: Jack does not have a hair fetish, don't worry.
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