That’s Jane, and she’s polite and she fits right into the corners of her name, and it isn’t my name.
It isn’t my name.
I want my name back. I want the news stories to say that Alice Liddell was a girl who lived in New York City, and she was just starting to fit into the corners of her own name, her own life. Alice Liddell was 18 years old, and she had long blonde hair that her lover used to wrap around his fingers, forcing her neck back so he could bear down on her skin with his teeth. Alice Liddell loved that, and she loved taking photographs with the camera she stole, and she was starting to love Walter and his quiet kindness, and she loved the Chrysler Building, no matter how many times she saw it.
Alice Liddell was someone who missed her best friend Tammy, and once, when she was six, a man pulled up in front of her house and tried to get her into his blue car, beckoning from the driver’s seat, saying he had a special secret to share. Alice Liddell was the girl who froze for a full minute before she ran inside, and she was the girl who never told anyone about that minute and that man in the blue car, ever.
This was Alice Liddell. She never broke any bones and her teeth were straight and strong, and her mother was murdered, and so was she. Not the same way, but not so differently, either. She liked fish tacos and fairy lights and hated the taste of licorice. She hadn’t read nearly enough books yet, and she was busy falling in love with the world, when she was yanked right out of it.
Time’s up. Is that what he said to her, just before? Or during? There were sounds he made that she couldn’t hear, wouldn’t hear, but she’d made him angry, hadn’t she. By not answering his question. She froze instead, just like that day when the strange man in his blue car tried to tell her a secret. She knew not to go toward him, could smell the danger between them, but for a full minute, she forgot how to move. And this time, she remembered too late.
Drafting, drafting, drafting. Alice is my new Lucy. The secondary character who has stolen the whole story. Maybe it’s because she thinks/speaks in run-on sentences, just like I do 😉