The Untold Story of Alice // Ed Sheeran

Turning Over a New Leaf

She was gone. I was home alone, a week later. She was gone. I sat on my couch, way to disgusted to drink. She was gone. My tears had dried; when she left, she took them with her.

It wasn't clear to me that Alice was dead. She was gone. Adam seemed fine, like the death had not fazed him. Maybe it was the shock. I prayed that it would wear off sooner.

Where was I during all of this. We had a fight, I get that. Yet, if she was having a bad time, the one question I had: Why couldn't she talk to me? Every time I was there for her, Alice never told me a thing.

Her uncle. Alex. The one with the blond eyes and the crooked smile. Alex: the guy who named Alice and Adam. Alice after his favorite singer; Alice Cooper. The guy I never had the chance to personally meet. The guy with the girls around him. The one who looked innocent.

A pimp. A ruthless bastard. Someone who knew what he was doing. Someone who used women to make money. Was Alice apart of this? The whole time I thought I had pushed her away; that I was the reason she had changed. It wasn't because of me at all. It was because of the idiot that she called family.

I hope he rots in jail. I hope he drops the soap. I hope somehow he finds a way to end his life, just like he ended hers.

I wanted the details, but I didn't want to know how he did it. I didn't want to think about her that way. Yet, the last memory I do have was of our last fight. Our last pitiful fight that was my fault. I yelled at her for no reason at all. None.

I sat there and stared at the wall. The room was silent and empty, besides me. Bellini was still over with the neighbor. I hadn't even checked on him or called since she said she would take him until I got back.

I twiddled my thumbs and hummed lyrics that wouldn't come out. I refused to turn on the dull television set. I wouldn't get up and unpack my bag. I couldn't move. Nothing would come out when I did try to speak or pray or do anything.

I finally did stand up, feeling tipsy and wobbly even though I had nothing to drink. I felt disgusted. I stared at the wall and tried to make anything seem real. I pinched myself to see if I was actually awake. I was, painfully.

The pictures seemed to grow bigger and present things in my life I did not want to see. Making me shake my head numerous time. I didn't believe it.

I can't get these memories out of my mind.

I can't find the light. I try to pull apart. I dart to my room and slam the door. I crawl under the covers, like I'm hiding from some type of monster. My life is the monster.

I want her here. Even if she was difficult, I didn't mind. It feels like the bed is swallowing me whole, and maybe I want it to.

Just come to me, I silently plead of her, just in a dream.

Thinking of every single fight we ever had. They were stupid, childish. I want her back. You never know what you have until it's gone.

I don't fall asleep. Instead, I get up and get dressed. I run out the door and passed every similar doors and down the stairs. I walk and walk and my legs don't get tired. I reach a park and the tears come.

***

Elizabeth Ann, a petite girl with long brown hair and large grey eyes. She was tall, almost as tall as me. Someone who was studying to be a teacher, but was a model. A girl with a huge smile and bubbly personality. Someone who helped me with the grief of the girl I loved so much. Elizabeth knew exactly what to say without even talking to much.

I am thankful for her.

I had kissed her before. Her precious lips against mine. More than once. They were naughty things, full of passion and lust and secrecy. We saved Alice's heart by keeping it to us and not saying a word. And until that first week of our kissing, I chose to forget it. Until now.