FOUR: Alize

Alize returns home, to find her mother and father waiting.

FOUR: Alize

    Clutching her throbbing head, Alize struggled to open the front door. She stepped into the dark, cavernous entrance hall quietly. After closing the door behind herself she stumbled across the seemingly endless room. The walls spun before her eyes and every hushed footstep managed to echo. She felt as if she were watching herself perform her movements; her body was shaking so vigorously that it would barely respond to her thoughts. Her spine felt as though it wanted to break into a million pieces. Blood wet her hands where she clutched her head. Her feet ached from her run home. Fear filled every part of her conscience. She felt for the side door blindly in the dark and found it.
    “Alizabeth Anne Hawthorne!” Alize winced, not at the tone of her mothers voice but at the sudden bright light proceeding towards her; her eyes began to stream and her head pounded.  Alize turned and through the light could just barely make out her mother and Felicity. Halfway across the room her mother stopped and her face faltered, “Oh,” she whispered. Alize watched her mother take a few subconscious steps backwards. Felicity ran forward and caught Alize as she felt herself sway with dizziness.
    As the strong arms of Felicity wrapped themselves around her body, Alize mumbled, “Sleepwalking,” and leaned into her. A glance up told her that her mother was still standing in the middle of the room, a look of horror and disgust on her face.
    “Did you find her?” Alize heard her father’s low voice descending the stairs. He reached her mother and when he saw Alize took a similar step back, a look of shock on his face. Both her parents stood and stared. It was a few seconds before Felicity took the liberty to say anything.
    “Ma’am, I think -” the older woman began, look hesitantly at Mirida Hawthorne who’s face was white.
    “Bed,” Alize’s father declared softly, not removing his eyes from his daughter. Felicity wrapped her arms around Alize and began slowly walking her up the stairs; her parents followed in silence.
    Once in her room, Felicity laid Alize on her bed softly and quickly proceeded to dab her bleeding skull with a cloth. Both her parents stood at the edge of the bed. It was a few minutes before anyone said anything.
    It was her father who spoke first. “Alizabeth, what were you doing?” He demanded softy, a tone of outrage in his words.
    “Sir, I don’t think it’s best for you to be questioning-“ Felicity interjected.
    “I’ll ask her what I want,” The General snapped back. Felicity lowered her gaze and continued cleaning the head wound.
    “Couldn’t sleep,” Alize heard herself murmur.
    Her father looked aghast, “You couldn’t sleep? Do you have any idea what you could have done to your future?”
    But Alize wasn’t listening, the scene of the attempted murder was playing itself over and over in her mind. She shivered and felt Felicity’s warm hands press against her neck. “The eyes…” She murmured, shaking again.
    “What?” Her father’s gaze hardened.
    The boy’s face was in her mind, ready to kill then telling her to leave. Alize’s body was nearly convulsing now and she felt tears running down her face. Again and again she watched him nearly plunging his dagger into the other man. “His eyes…” she cried.
    Alize was barely aware that her father had her by her shoulders until she opened her eyes and his were in front of her face, they were flashing angrily, “Who’s eyes?” He growled.
    Alize instantly stopped crying and stared into the General’s face. Her eyes were filled with terror, but it wasn’t her father she was terrified of. He shook her roughly and continued to question her. Alize watched Felicity trying and failing to intervene. Alize shut her eyes and repeated, “His, his eyes.” She didn’t know who he was, or how to describe it. She wanted to tell her father about the violence, about the Druyd, but she knew he would never believe her and her head hurt too much to think of a way to convince him.
    “Alizabeth!” The General yelled again. She looked up at him. “Who’s. Eyes.”
    “The boy’s,” She whimpered, an attempt for an explanation, “I saw him. On the beach…”
    Her father dropped her onto the bed like a stone. He stepped back, eyes wide and face blanching to match her mother’s. Her mother had been standing in the corner the whole time, her frightened facing making her look older than she ever had. “You were sleepwalking, you fell down the stairs,” Alize heard her father murmer. “Alize!” He hissed, “You stick to that story, Alize!“ She looked up at him, “You fell sleepwalking.” Alize nodded slightly.
    Once she had responded the General turned to Mirida and grabbed her shoulder roughly, “Mirida, it will be fine. We’ll tell them that she fell down the stairs sleepwalking and that she won’t be able to come out for a few days. We’ll keep her in here until the banquet to make sure that she looks fine before she leaves. They’ll never know the difference. I promise.” He gently shook her mother’s shoulder, prompting her to look up meekly and nod. “Go to bed Mirida, we’ll fix everything in the morning.” Then he turned to Felicity, “Stay with her for the night and try and make her better by the banquet. Stick to the story.” Without another glance at his daughter, the General strode out of the door, his wife close behind him.
    As soon as the door closed Alize felt the tears stream down her face. Felicity sat down on the bed and began to stroke her hair silently. The old woman began to hum quietly after a few minutes and Alize felt herself calming. She remembered Felicity remarking, “Shh… they never have to know,” before the night slipped into darkness and she fell deep into sleep.

Author's Note

Please please please tell me what you think. Compare with other chapters if you can.

Reviews

[Mary Evans]

I really like how the story progresses. The emotions and descriptions in it are great.

The usual criticism:

"body seemed detached. Her body was shaking" Minor repetition. Not sure how to fix it though.

"Blood wet her hands where she clutched her head and her feet ached from her run home." Maybe you can paraphrase a bit.

"father had her by the throat" Sounds as if he's strangling her.

Cant wait to read more, keep up the good work.