Into my dreams, the past haunts.

ALICE

On that night, I saw my Aunt. Her bright crimson hair lits like a dancing fire in the sunlight. Her hazel narrowed eyes glinting hints of unapparent malice and ruthlessness. 

“Alice,” she called me. In a shaky voice, I respond. “Yes, Auntie?” 

She stretch her hand at me, telling me to come closer. So I did. She flicks her wrist and a chain of strings, black, red, and white of mixed colors burst out from her fingers. One connects to me. Others connect to the eleven people in the room. Majority shot up in every direction, moving outside from the white circle shape of the wall. 

“Can you see it?” she asked through her red blood lips. I nod. Despite my knees buckling like jell-o I can’t help but stare in amazement. 

“Of course you can. You’re my niece after all. My successor. The next wielder of strings.” she condemned. As if the thought of me being her niece or the next in line for the strings disgust her. It could be either or both. Muffled whispers hitched around me. Filling the quiet space with undertone words and low murmurs. Neither of which I can’t make out. 

“Did you know Alice? This string is power. Lethal. Potent. Very dangerous, unless you’re willing to sacrifice everything. Including the people you love.” 

My breath caught in my throat. “Sacrifice? Why sacrifice? Doesn’t the strings exist to connect people..” her bulging angry eyes made me falter. Speaking up is not welcome. I should not have opened my mouth. 

“Connect?” she scoffed. As if the idea is a revolting meal she just had at lunch. 

“String is a bitch Alice dear. It may connect people but not for a good cause. All it’s trying to bring, is misfortune. Infecting our entire lives and anyone we know. You ever wonder why poor stay poor regardless of their effort to make their lives better? You ever wonder why in a family, if one member dies the next will follow as if the death is following a schedule which he will reap next? Scattered series of unfortunate events, what caused them? God? Fate? Or their dumb luck? No.” she mused. The side of her red lips turned up.

“It’s the strings dear. It’s bringing misfortune everywhere! And we, the so called gifted family who’s able to wield the power on our fingers got it worse. We have restrictions choking our throat. Responsibilities were forced to bear. For what? To make our lives more miserable? We can’t even fall in love. We can’t get too attached. Do you get the irony Alice? This cursed string!” she clenched two strings in her fist.

“Must be dealt with no emotions attached. We teach people how to fall in love to what extent?! What do we get in return?! To be cursed our entire lives?! Where’s the justice in that?!” she snarled.

The young fourteen year old me... who can’t understand what she’s talking about, is left standing on my unsteady feet.      

“We deserve a reward! More power! We could have been great! Through it, we can see what’s on other people’s minds. Their very lives at the mercy of our hands! Imagine the control! The riches! And the string put up rules to tie us down?! Who the hell did that THING think we are?! Pawns in a game of chess?!” she fumed. Her voice is rising. Veins start to pop out on her neck. Her crazy wild hazel eyes made me cower. 

I’ve seen that look…. I swallowed the whimper threatening to come out of my lips. That’s the look she wore when she took me away from my parents. Cutting them open in my very presence. That’s the look she wore when she lash her black whip on my bare skin. Chaining me in both hands and ankles wasn’t enough. Even supposing I behave well and follow whatever she says, she still beat me out of my senses.

“Aww, my dear are you crying? Shh, shh, shh. It’s alright. If you do as exactly as I say. I won’t hurt you.” 

You said the same thing when you trap me inside the excruciation room. Same thing when you extract almost all of my blood. Leaving just fair amount to keep me alive. 

“Now, my dear. Your poor Aunt is in dire need of your help.” She stood up on her seat and slid her fingers into my ear. Her coming towards me and touching me is a threat. Saying I’m in no position to refuse.

“You see, the strings, after all these years of interconnecting each other, I can feel it refusing me. It won’t bend to my wishes. Chanting of incantations won’t work. The book won’t do my bidding. Even the Keeper won’t appear when I call on him. Really, I’m in serious trouble.” she leans into my ear and whispered.

“I even killed our entire family to make its power purely mine. Still, it refused. You have any idea why?” 

My hands clawed the ragged dirty shirt on my legs. Realization hit me hard, like a car hitting my body, crashing every bone beneath. The loud pumping of my heart is deafening my ears. My blood won’t stop rushing to my brain. 

“Alice, I need you to die for me.” 

My hands grew cold. The world fades out of focus, my ears shut down every sound inside the room. Right then I felt it. The cold sharp surface of a knife directly pointed to my throat. My eyes were opened. I can see the sheer delight on her face. My body is completely frozen in the spot. 

For the last time, I want to ask her, why she kept me alive. When she’s going to kill me without hesitation. Intense pain crossed my throat. I choke. Gagged. Trying to speak but can’t. Trying to reach out but can’t. My eyes won’t focus. My body is on fire. 

***

“Alice!” Someone’s hand grasp my shoulder. Vigorously shaking me. Every time I tried to breathe air, it got caught in my throat. Not letting it get through my lungs.

“Alice! God, where are those idiots?!” The groundkeeper’s rasp shaken voice tore my ears. I clawed on my nails. If the groundkeeper is here, then this scene is just a dream. I’m not actually here. 

I need to wake up. Wake up. Wake up! I inhaled a sharp breath and gasped. The dark cobweb ceiling of the cabin met my eyes. And the groundkeeper’s worried face came into view.

“Alice, you okay?” His touch is warm, damp, and a bit shaken on my cheeks. No. It’s my face that’s wet. I’m perspiring in sweat. 

“Yeah,” I croaked. He handed me a glass of water and I gulped it in one go. 

“What happened?” I asked. His furrowed brows deepen. 

“I came up to see you writhing and clawing on your neck. Are you really alright?” 

My eyes can’t seem to focus. The pain is back. On my neck. Making me doubt if what happen is really a dream or not. 

“Just a bad dream. Don’t worry I’m fine.” He took the glass from my hands and set it on top of my bedside cabinet. He picked up the cat whose meowing in the ground and let him sit on my lap.

“You’re pale.” He said. He brushed his fingers on my real crimson hair. Wiping my sweat with the cuff of his jacket.

He looks like he just got out of bed. Was my scream so terrible it woke him from his sleep? That was the last time I saw my Aunt. I thought I was dead. But I wasn't. The next few days, I came to my senses only to know the person who saved and nurse me back to health was Kenneth. I swallowed the horror cutting in my throat. I don't know which situation is better. 

Dreaming the horrifying experience of me getting killed by my Aunt or waking up and be tortured by the harsh reality I have to face from now on.