By Elizabeth Scott
As soon as upon a time, i used to be a bit woman who disappeared.Once upon a time, my identify used to be no longer Alice.Once upon a time, i did not understand how fortunate I was.When Alice used to be ten, Ray took her clear of her relations, her acquaintances -- her existence. She discovered to renounce all strength, to suffer all ache. She waited for the nightmare to be over.Now Alice is fifteen and Ray nonetheless has her, yet he speaks an increasing number of of her demise. He doesn't are aware of it is what she longs for. She doesn't be aware of he has anything extra terrifying than loss of life in brain for her.This is Alice's tale. it truly is one you've by no means heard, and one you'll by no means, ever fail to remember.
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Additional info for Living Dead Girl
It’s what she/I was made for. It’s all I know how to do. 48 LEAVE JAKE DAISY-EYED, DARK PART OF HIS eyes huge like flowers that grow on the side of the road, little yellowing always dying petals with huge black centers. Ray is waiting over to the side, walks away when I head toward him but manages to be my shadow to the bus stop, shadow so big shadow, mouth grim. Watches when I get on the bus. Wait for everyone to get on, wait for the transfer bus to arrive, for everyone that wants to get on to do so, struggling with bags and flesh and exact change only.
She had a computer and a desk and nail polish that she could wear to school. She would put on eye shadow in the school bathroom with her friends. Blue to match her eyes. She was almost ten, and right before her birthday she got sick and had to stay home and missed the big trip to see the aquarium but her friends said it sucked and there weren’t any dolphins and her parents said she never ever had to go there. She had her party and ate cake and ice cream and then— And then— And then that’s where the story ended.
What had been became what was and a story only works when you know the ending. When the people in it don’t seem like pretend. When you can think about that girl and how she was once upon a time, and see her. When you don’t already know the story is a lie. 50 RAY TAKES MY ARM AS I STEP OFF THE bus, hand around the upper part of it, smiling at the other person getting off, tired-looking woman with straining plastic shopping bag, can poking through a ripped corner. Green label. Vegetable. Vegetables always have green labels.
Living Dead Girl by Elizabeth Scott