Sometimes it's the smallest decisions that change your life forever
- Keri Russell
It was growing dark as the end of my unpacking came in sight. However, there was one pesky box that I still couldn't find a home for.
I was stood in the middle of my new room, biting my lip, as I tried to decide where I could hide the offending cardboard box. I glared angrily at the word 'memories' that was scrawled messily across the side of it. I couldn't quite bring myself to unpack it; I wasn't ready to be faced with the reminders of the life I'd left behind that the box held. I just wanted it out of sight, and out of mind...
I had been unpacking all day and I was now desperate to be finished. The boredom was finally getting to me and what I yearned for most of all, was to crawl under my covers and forget today had happened, not that there was much chance of that.
It was my mother's idea for us to arrive ridiculously early. She was under the impression that the house could be readied in a day if we worked hard enough. Therefore, I was dragged from the hotel where we had spent the night, at the offensive time of five thirty in the morning, in order to reach our new house before noon. Our flight had arrived in Seattle late last night, and my mother had rented a car for us to finish the journey to our new 'home'. Forks, a town that if it was big enough, and it certainly wasn't, would be a contender for the rainiest city in America. And I just love the rain, I muttered sarcastically. We'd found our belongings stacked neatly in the front room downstairs, after having them shipped across the country a few days prior to our arrival, and had been unpacking ever since. It had gotten boring. Fast.
I studied the room again, my impatience growing by the second. There had to be somewhere I could put a reasonably sized box. I ran my hand through my short black hair, tugging on it slightly, a sure sign of my frustration. I had never been the most patient of people. My craving to be finished intensified.
I groaned as my hunt proved fruitless again, and sank onto my freshly made bed, glaring at the box angrily. It was the last thing that stood between me and a decent night's sleep. I hated it for that. In the distance, I could hear the faint echoing of thunder, as the sky noticeably darkened. I really hated thunder as well. This increased my hurry to finish my unpacking job. I wasn't a particularly tidy person, but I shunned the thought of going to bed with one tiny job still left to do. I sighed, and once again tried to think of the places I would have put the box, had I been back in the city.
After a few minutes of intense scrutiny, I spotted it. A shelf at the top of my closet. It was high up, but there looked to be enough room to conceal the aforementioned box. I shuddered slightly at my use of 'my' when describing the closet. I wasn't quite ready to call the room 'mine' yet, still too attached to the southern state I had called home. The closet wasn't as big as my one back home, I noticed with dismay; I'd have to invest in a wardrobe.
I picked up my stool from its place by the window, carrying it across the room, and placed it within reaching distance of the open closet door. Balancing the box carefully against my body with one hand, I shakily climbed onto the stool using the closet door for support. Slowly, I lifted the box over my head and began to manoeuvre it into place, sliding it backwards onto the shelf.
To my dismay, something hidden at the very back of the shelf stopped my progress, leaving the box to stick out a couple of inches. I pushed, hoping my attempt would simply dislodge the object and force the box into place.
This, whilst being a good idea in theory, did not seem to want to work in practise.
I shoved harder, the box balancing precariously on the ledge; that something must be pretty solid. The box stayed put, refusing to budge under my futile attempt, almost demanding that I throw my whole weight against it to push it in. I sighed, preparing to push as hard as it was possible to do without unbalancing me. I shifted my weight slightly on the chair, going onto my tiptoes to give me the maximum possible leverage and pushed. Hard.
At that moment, the light in my room instantly shut off, the sound of thunder echoing through the deathly quiet. In my fright, I jumped, forgetting where I was, and that was all it took for everything to go horribly wrong. The chair slid out from under me awkwardly. The box, rebounding against whatever was jammed at the back of the cupboard, shot out towards me, shattering all hope I had of simply turning around and landing safely on two feet.
Then I was falling, hurtling backwards, the box coming with me. Time seemed to slow down with the inevitability of what was coming, what I anticipated to be a painful landing. I didn't know what to do, there wasn't time to think about throwing my arms out, or twisting round to lessen the damage that was sure to occur. I didn't even have time to panic as, twisting my head, I saw the ground loom closer and closer.
I simply closed my eyes and braced myself for impact with the floor.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Twilight, I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement.
A/N: I apologise for my sucky use of commas. I tried.
Its a little slow to start, I know, but give it a chance, I promise it gets better.
Alice is pretty hard to write and I hope I've managed to do her character some justice. I'm still working on her whole backstory. Lets just say there is a reason for everything.
Hope you enjoy it. Opinions and constructive criticism welcomed.
Ostentatious Querida =]