Alice comfortably nesting herself in her favorite chair, the pages of her book flapped beneath her fingers as she turned them absently. It was an affectation, meant to convey sophistication, but it also allowed her a pretense to pause and ruminate on the peculiar phone call she had received three days ago. She had enlisted the help of the phone company operator in trying to trace the call's origin, but all they revealed was that it had come from a payphone.
"What's going on?" Lorry, her closest person who she considered as friend, and confidante, asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Alice kept her silence, unable to answer or explain the call. She felt as if she was trapped by these walls closing in around her, suffocating her, and her marriage. She desired freedom, a place where she could call her own.
Alice's husband, Peter, came home almost two days after the night out with friends. When she asked him his whereabout, he told Alice that he had an urgent meeting out of town and had to stay at a hotel. She knew he was lying.
All sorts of gossips and rumors had already circled around the neighborhood about her husband's affair with his secretary for months.
The shrill sound of Alice's phone snapped her out of her reverie. It was her father on the line, his voice filled with concern and worry.
"No! I am not delusional! I know Peter is having an affair! He's coming home late, acting strangely around me—I don't trust him anymore," Alice yelled into the receiver.
"You need to get back on your medication," her father said sternly. For him, it was unimaginable that their favorite son in law they had come so close to, could be cheating on his daughter.
"Dad! I'm not crazy!" Alice exclaimed, but before she could continue the argument, she was cut off by the sound of two voices calling for her attention.
"Mommy, look what we made for you today!" Kathy and Roger bounded in with Lorry close behind, interrupting the heated discussion.
Alice hung up the phone loudly, Kathy's enthusiastic voice distracted Alice from her intense conversation. Then her innocent laughter made Alice feel a pain of guilt at her outburst. Her daughter had crafted a clay dog, complete with a yellow coat and eager eyes. Kathy wanted nothing more than to own a dog - an oft-promised sixth birthday gift—and her enthusiasm tugged at Alice's heartstrings.
Alice had, once upon a time, owned a dog of her own; it was her dearest companion, one she treasured deeply. But like so many of the things Alice held close, it was stolen from her.
1992, She had been dozing in her bedroom after a long night spent working on the yearbook for Wesley High when Vincent's screams beckoned from downstairs.
Alice rushed down to find her younger brother dragging a heavy plastic bag onto the porch. Vincent opened it slowly, and the truth came to light: Snowy lay lifeless inside. Alice wept for her lost friend, the tears streaming down her face like a river.
Alice was a middle child among the Willer family of Wichita, Wisconsin; her father worked as a respected local banker while her mother was a successful lawyer. She was an ordinary teenage girl living an unassuming life, but Alice's beauty and kind heart were an enchanting combination that earned her many adoring friends.
"What happened?" Alice cried, tears still streaming down her cheeks.
"I saw him on the sidewalk," Vincent replied sadly. "A car must've hit him and run off."
Alice was so consumed by grief that she couldn't bring herself to eat or sleep. She felt as helpless and lifeless as Snowy had been lying in that plastic bag. Her parents had to send her back to her doctor, desperate for her to be well again.
☆☆☆
"Do the dreams still come, Alice?" The question hung in the air like a heavy fog, thick and unresolved. Alice felt her stomach twist into knots as she nodded her head, her voice barely a whisper. The nightmares that had plagued her since childhood were a constant visit of strangers telling her things in her sleep, sometimes she even dreamed of places she had never been yet felt extremely familiar. While Alice suffered this strange illness, her parents were her only dependency that she felt secure and safe. She was costume to allow them to make all her decision, including agreeing to come visit this clinic annually. She liked coming here in the beginning, she always got a hand full of candies and story books from this nice old doctor. But as she got older, she became more and more aware that her doctor had no clue of just what her condition was.
"Has it gotten worse since Snowy died?" The mere mention of his name sent a sharp pain through Alice's chest. Snowy had been the only person she had trusted with her deepest secrets, the one who had always been there to chase away her fear that lurked in the corners of her mind. Now that he was gone, his absence haunted her dreams, and woke her every night.
"We call it post-traumatic syndrome." The words were clinical, sterile, and Alice felt a wave of anger wash over her. How could they reduce her pain to a diagnosis? But then, a small glimmer of hope. "Here, take this medication and do something your heart hasn't done before - go on a trip and take in sights that don't remind you of Snowy. It just might help."
Alice took the pills eagerly, clutching them in her hand like a lifeline. She shared the news with her parents, who were delighted by the prospect of an adventure. They even asked their eldest son Travis to accompany Alice on the long trip - to ensure she was safe from harm.
☆☆☆
Peter was departing town once more, and Alice couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle in the pit of her stomach. She watched as he packed his bags,
the sound of the zipper cutting through the heavy silence in their bedroom.
"It's only for a few days," Peter said, his eyes avoiding Alice's. She could sense the tension radiating from him like a palpable force, and she knew that her husband's true intention was amiss.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice soft but insistent. She already knew the answer, of course. The same answer he had been giving.
"Business trip, out of town." His words were clipped, almost defensive, and Alice sneered despite herself.
"Are you sure that is the truth?" Her tone softened.
As expected, Peter flinched while his jaw clenched, and Alice could see the foul play simmering beneath the surface.
"Yes, it is the truth. You're being paranoid again." His words stung, but Alice refused to back down.
"Well then, if you won't tell me the truth, I'm leaving too. I already purchased my ticket." Her words were indeclinable, a warning that she wouldn't back down.
"Where can you go?"
Alice thought for a second, and said, "Don't worry about me. All you have to know is I'll come back whenever I'm ready. Don't bother calling, I won't answer. I'll have my parents look after the kids." Alice's voice was cold, she could feel the final embers of their marriage burn away because of the journey she was about to take. Something far more important calling her—something from her past that she had to pursue no matter the cost.