Aʟɪᴄᴇ Pʟᴇᴀsᴀɴᴄᴇ Lɪᴅᴅᴇʟʟ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
digophelia) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2015-08-17 05:59 pm
digophelia) wrote in undergrounds2015-08-17 05:59 pm
Entry tags:
Whisper the prayer of transformation.
A- Returning to London , the tub
She waited with both great apprehension and joy for her release out of the hospital. Ten years and Alice was already making a list of the things she'd go see. She wanted to see the parks she used to play in, the old ports she would visit, and Hyde Park was on the top of her list. She was practically shaking with excitement when she was waiting patiently for her release. The doctors had given her a slew of medication -- not a surprise. Anti-psychotics, benzodiazepines, SSRIs, and some to help her sleep at night. All of them with a big, bulky folder of directions, phone numbers, and other sort of paperwork with names and such. When she first entered care, she barely spoke a word, and now that she was being let go, Alice barely spoke a word, again. No goodbyes offered, even if nurses, patients, and doctors tried with her, Alice tore out of the hospital without a second look.
She was free again.
Hyde Park was quite a distance away -- she'd have to take public transportation to get there. And, of course, to get a cup of tea on the way there, since her medication often made her feel sluggish. As soon as Alice is out in the real world again, her reaction isn't that of joy and there is no running about. The world is much bigger than she remembered and much more frightening. Alice had left it, deeply shaken. She couldn't really greet anyone on the way back to the subway or anywhere else. She kept her head low, awkwardly rubbing her cheek or combing her hair, all odd little tidbits of hers when she was nervous.
She was terrified. Alice thought to herself what she could possibly be thinking. Upon getting on the old routes her family used to take to the coven (which, by now, Alice had memorized), she took it up to the assigned housing, with only a bag of clothing and her things, nervously teetering away on the train, with her old stuffed rabbit firmly in her arms. Alice was eighteen years old, but her skittish disposition and short, malnourished stature surely presented her as someone much younger and the stuffed rabbit didn't help. She looks like a child and acts the part, ducking her head as people passed by her. While the idea of looking at others filled her with dread, her mind was racing with thoughts and visions.
Today could be an off day.
B - Redbright Institute, because Alice is lost
Two days after her initial release, Alice secluded herself to sleeping in a bed of her own, with no round the clock check ups from doctors. She slept tightly with her rabbit -- but decided that the bed wasn't enough halfway through the night and took to under the bed. When she awoke, Alice was combing through notes and drawings -- clues to her past and where to go. She was obsessed with remembering these things, the jittery little thing kept them in a notebook, pieces of papers popping out of pages. Redbright Institute. Now she remembered, that was one place her father worked at, one place she knew would give her clues to where to go and what to do.
The world was still very much bigger than she thought, so stepping upon the campus isn't what she expected. It was bigger than she remembered and very foreign. And Alice spent a good time pacing about outside, carrying her rabbit firmly in her arms until she worked up the courage to speak.
Sort of.
She probably hadn't spoken a full sentence in months, so her matter of speech was strange, almost monotone and low. Sucking in a breath, the small, Alice tried to ask for help and where to go -- no one helped her, she jumped into this without thinking.
"Sorry," She mutters, keeping her head low and her rabbit close to her chest. She wasn't this meek, she nearly forgot how to interact with others. "I'm lost? Help?"
If that even worked, if she could formulate a sentence, but talking to others again was so difficult.
C - Coffer's Shop
It is not a coffee shop she's familiar with; her father had a penchant for the fancy coffee shops, in which he met some of his colleagues there, or, according to her older sister, he goofed off at them, playing chess with others. Tea sounds nice -- it sounds great. Upon entering the shop, Alice takes a sigh of relief that it's not busy. Still clutching her rabbit in one hand, Alice fumbles with her side bag, feeling around for the coin purse -- she stuck some money in there, she's not sure how much.
What she does remember is the smaller pleasures helped a lot, but ordering tea was proving to be a difficult feat, especially for a girl who was struggling just to talk to others. One step, just one step that was recommended in therapy to deal with social anxiety. She watches how others order and what they do, standing at the counter before she steps up bravely and orders tea.
Just plain chamomile, since anything caffeinated will rile her. As soon as she gets it, Alice nearly runs over a patron, whisking herself to a nice, quiet corner.
"Sorry," She mutters lowly, keeping her rabbit and cup of tea gripped tightly in her hands before she continues.
D - Wildcard!
She waited with both great apprehension and joy for her release out of the hospital. Ten years and Alice was already making a list of the things she'd go see. She wanted to see the parks she used to play in, the old ports she would visit, and Hyde Park was on the top of her list. She was practically shaking with excitement when she was waiting patiently for her release. The doctors had given her a slew of medication -- not a surprise. Anti-psychotics, benzodiazepines, SSRIs, and some to help her sleep at night. All of them with a big, bulky folder of directions, phone numbers, and other sort of paperwork with names and such. When she first entered care, she barely spoke a word, and now that she was being let go, Alice barely spoke a word, again. No goodbyes offered, even if nurses, patients, and doctors tried with her, Alice tore out of the hospital without a second look.
She was free again.
Hyde Park was quite a distance away -- she'd have to take public transportation to get there. And, of course, to get a cup of tea on the way there, since her medication often made her feel sluggish. As soon as Alice is out in the real world again, her reaction isn't that of joy and there is no running about. The world is much bigger than she remembered and much more frightening. Alice had left it, deeply shaken. She couldn't really greet anyone on the way back to the subway or anywhere else. She kept her head low, awkwardly rubbing her cheek or combing her hair, all odd little tidbits of hers when she was nervous.
She was terrified. Alice thought to herself what she could possibly be thinking. Upon getting on the old routes her family used to take to the coven (which, by now, Alice had memorized), she took it up to the assigned housing, with only a bag of clothing and her things, nervously teetering away on the train, with her old stuffed rabbit firmly in her arms. Alice was eighteen years old, but her skittish disposition and short, malnourished stature surely presented her as someone much younger and the stuffed rabbit didn't help. She looks like a child and acts the part, ducking her head as people passed by her. While the idea of looking at others filled her with dread, her mind was racing with thoughts and visions.
Today could be an off day.
B - Redbright Institute, because Alice is lost
Two days after her initial release, Alice secluded herself to sleeping in a bed of her own, with no round the clock check ups from doctors. She slept tightly with her rabbit -- but decided that the bed wasn't enough halfway through the night and took to under the bed. When she awoke, Alice was combing through notes and drawings -- clues to her past and where to go. She was obsessed with remembering these things, the jittery little thing kept them in a notebook, pieces of papers popping out of pages. Redbright Institute. Now she remembered, that was one place her father worked at, one place she knew would give her clues to where to go and what to do.
The world was still very much bigger than she thought, so stepping upon the campus isn't what she expected. It was bigger than she remembered and very foreign. And Alice spent a good time pacing about outside, carrying her rabbit firmly in her arms until she worked up the courage to speak.
Sort of.
She probably hadn't spoken a full sentence in months, so her matter of speech was strange, almost monotone and low. Sucking in a breath, the small, Alice tried to ask for help and where to go -- no one helped her, she jumped into this without thinking.
"Sorry," She mutters, keeping her head low and her rabbit close to her chest. She wasn't this meek, she nearly forgot how to interact with others. "I'm lost? Help?"
If that even worked, if she could formulate a sentence, but talking to others again was so difficult.
C - Coffer's Shop
It is not a coffee shop she's familiar with; her father had a penchant for the fancy coffee shops, in which he met some of his colleagues there, or, according to her older sister, he goofed off at them, playing chess with others. Tea sounds nice -- it sounds great. Upon entering the shop, Alice takes a sigh of relief that it's not busy. Still clutching her rabbit in one hand, Alice fumbles with her side bag, feeling around for the coin purse -- she stuck some money in there, she's not sure how much.
What she does remember is the smaller pleasures helped a lot, but ordering tea was proving to be a difficult feat, especially for a girl who was struggling just to talk to others. One step, just one step that was recommended in therapy to deal with social anxiety. She watches how others order and what they do, standing at the counter before she steps up bravely and orders tea.
Just plain chamomile, since anything caffeinated will rile her. As soon as she gets it, Alice nearly runs over a patron, whisking herself to a nice, quiet corner.
"Sorry," She mutters lowly, keeping her rabbit and cup of tea gripped tightly in her hands before she continues.
D - Wildcard!
no subject
"But I doubt those guys'd find real evidence even if they showed up someplace haunted. I mean, if I was a ghost, I wouldn't want to hang around a bunch of sweaty guys in night vision goggles. I'd do something fun, like play the piano in an abandoned room. Maybe scare some kids on Halloween."
no subject
Scaring children sounded ridiculous. Alice supposed it was just second hand gossip, nothing more. What did her father say about ghosts? She can't really recall, other than the types of hauntings that ghosts could be capable of.
Witch or not, it seemed sill to Alice. "I don't have a reason to investigate; I would only say that they could haunt a better place."
no subject
"Anyhow, who's to say what's better? All kinds of people in this world, so there's probably all kinds of ghosts."
no subject
She hoped there were different types of ghosts, otherwise that would be very boring, "Does the said ghost have a name?"
no subject
"I guess you'd have to ask 'em. But come to think of it, I never did get the whole campfire story. I guess if ya wanted, you could chat up one of them camera crews, find out who was wronged or what kinda unfinished business might be lying around."
no subject
"You seem to know quite a bit, have you met her?"