Skythe

The moon burns red in her eyes. I stand still as she tears the fabric apart. The dress that was once a beautiful blue gown is in tatters. 

It hits me like a truck. She isn't Alice. Alice would never behave like this. Like a hooligan. Like a stranger. 

The girl spits out the cloth from her mouth, her hair wild with rage. 

"Who are you?"

She roars and jumps as if to attack my face. I back away in fright, but there's a wall behind me.

"Remember this?" 

I can't look anywhere else but her scar. It runs down her jaw to the back of her ear. 

The dread sinks in faster than I thought. Its real. Everything is real. It always has been. 

I wanted to forget it. I thought I'd buried it in the past. I didn't think it would chase me back to haunt me. 

She must see the fear on my face because she smirks, full of triumph and madness. 

"So you do remember."

After all I've done to her, the least I owe her is an explanation, an apology or at least a confirmation. I force myself to say her name. It comes out weak and warbled.

"Skythe."

She laughs. For minutes. For hours. And then she moves to slit my throat.