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    Searching For The Sun

    Story written on July 22, 2008 by eclipse.
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    Genre(s): N/A
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    Number of Comments: None
    Words: 690
    Story Shortlink: https://lesfan.com/?p=21659
    Author Notes:

    In 1910, Mary Alice Brandon is nine and living in a fundamentalist Christian family in New Orleans. Her powerful visions are seen as possession by demons and she is eventually sent to an asylum experimenting with psychic potential after witnessing a tragic murder. The consequences of her abilities are greater than anyone ever predicted, and are the catalyst for a friendship and love that transcend the grave. AlicexOC, AlicexJasper. Some minor details from Stephenie Meyer's original story have been changed, and there are some minor AU points in the later part of this story. Rated PG-13 for disturbing and mature themes, violence, language, abuse, and implied sexual content. Rating subject to change.

    Searching For The Sun

    Preface

    Turn Off The White

     The room was so bright. The white was painful, blinding. I tried to ask them, whoever they were, to turn the searing light off. I couldn’t see past it. I was so tired—My mouth wouldn’t move, just as my limbs. All useless. All unmoving.

    A translucent, beautiful woman with dark hair and yellow eyes stayed by my side. She was my possibility, the happiness I was promised but could no longer care about. They suddenly grabbed my wrists and strapped me in. I still couldn’t see past all the white. So bright…like the sun I haven’t seen in so long….

     I heard a clang, then indescribable pain rushed through my veins. I screamed until my throat was raw and thrashed wildly in the restraints. This always happened when they dragged me into the white, but I was always taken by surprise. Pain was all I felt, besides the oppressive black.

    My screams continued as spots of black bloomed in my vision, staining the blinding white. Finally, it ended. I went limp in the restraints that held me down and I gasped for breath. My possibility gazed at me sadly, as she always did. She sobbed with desperation. She moved closer to me and brushed a hand against my forehead, murmuring comfort in my ear. It was the only solace she could give.

    “Alice, do you see the future?” a bored voice asked.

     The possibility of me nodded her head.

    “Yes,” I gasped. I always obeyed the possibility. She promised me freedom if I did as she said. I didn’t have the will to care anymore. I just wanted to curl up into a ball, keep curling until I was nothing. I didn’t want to live.

    The pain shot through me again. As I screamed and writhed, another vision slipped over me. My possibility and Jasper holding hands, together…happy…their locked hands looked like a promise. A promise…

    The promise dissolved as soon as I opened my eyes. The white blinded me again, and I swayed from exhaustion. There was no hope, no promise, here. Just the blackness of the cell and the white of this room where I died a little more inside.

    “What year is it?” I gasped.

    “1917, Mary Alice,” the doctor said.

    “Three more years, darling,” my possibility said. “You turned 16 three weeks ago.”

    “Three more years until what?” I screamed at her, oddly emotional. “You promise me all these things, yet never do you deliver!”

    The doctor sighed, then flicked the switch again.

    My screams went unheard.

     

     

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