When I Met You

I saw bookshelf after bookshelf in this empty hallway. None was filled with any books at all which is confusing. I walked even further in the hall. Silence met my footsteps with each step I took. Then I heard his voice and soon the bookshelves that lined against the wall instantly filled with books. I stop in front of a bookshelf in the middle of the hallway. One book caught my attention. It was a purple hard cover book. The pages were yellow from old age.

The title seemed foreign but yet familiar to me.

'The Life of Alice Jenkins' I heard his voice even louder above me. The feeling of dread and fear mixed within my stomach. The book glowed sightly and then their was heat coming from the cover, growing hot until I dropped the book.

The book landed on the floor and the glowing stopped. It seemed like a normal hardcover book.

The title still the same; it's bugging me. The books on the bookshelves began to disappear one by one and I know I was truly alone with the voice above me calling me.

"Alice Jenkins?" His voice was harsh and cold. I was afraid to even look up at the owner.

I hate feeling this scared. This afraid. I don't have any idea on why. This person kept on calling someone named Alice. It was directed at me. Life of Alice Jenkins; the name of the book that I just hold.

Everything seemed so transparent.

A huge light blinded me.

Confusion.

I ran the opposite way, ingoring the feeling of regret that soon came in me.

Down the hall I ran; almost running into the closed door.

I reached for the door knob; but my hand just went though.

"Alice" I heard that name once more coming closer.

I reached for the knob once more; and once again it just ran though.

The door just opened just a crack.

Big enough for me to slip though...but the bad thing was I didn't. I just went though the door, like some kind of ghost.

The door closed behind me and that blinded light and that voice disappeared.

Heat; I felt even more as I took in my surroundings.

Fire, flames surrounded me to take me whole. The flames were filled with anguish, hate and fear that I knew I didn't want to be in a place like this.

Images appeared in the dark gray sky. Images...of me...in some life time. Blood; blood came down the clouds taking all of me.

I'm soaked.

I'm alone and I don't have any memory on how I got here. I managed to make myself walk even deeper in this unknown place.

The images of me above were just like a sideshow. Pictures come and go showing me with some other people that I don't know...or I don't want to know.

Everything froze.

The images froze on a letter with a lot of tear stains, that smudged the ink.

I cannot take it anymore. This life...is hell. I can't stand the beatings that came every single day because of my father's drunkenness. I can't stand the fact that the only person I love and trusted had just stabbed me in the back. I hate the fact that my own mother hadn't protected me from him. I hate the bullying at school because of being so poor. I hate being questioned; about everything. I have nobody. Why should I live? Someone told me once; why do I continue taking up so much space? The sad thing is that I still...love that person who had stabbed me so many times. This pain is too much, I rather death. So by the time you read this I will be nothing, gone out of your lives like you always wanted from the start.

Everything became clear to me like a slap to the face. All the strange stuff that happened earlier, and the fact that my memories was wiped cleaned.

I'm Alice Jenkins.

I'm suicidal and now I'm dead.

Was it worth it?

I don't remember anything.

I didn't remember my dad, my mom, my friends or anything.

I looked around my surroundings once more and then I realized I was being punished.

My surroundings transformed with the information that I finally noticed what happened.

Instead of flames and the head transformed into some kind of house that I now stood in front of me.

The image of the letter above of me was gone; replaced with white clouds.

The door opened revealing a strange old man. His appearance was awful and smelled of liquor.

These were my memories.

This was my own personal hell...to relive everything that happened before my death.

The man walked out with a slur into the front yard.

"You little, bitch I been calling you for a hour." He slurred; and all kind of emotions slammed into me. Fear, sadness, and hate. A few tears slipped from my eyes.

It only got him even more mad.

"Why are you crying whore? Get back in the house and cook breakfast before I slammed t-this beer bot-tle- c-ontainer behind your head." He stumbled over his words and with a limp he was back in the house.