The otherside of the stage, to reflect on forever.
It was the start of my third school year when I met her. She was a strange girl with unruly and dirty, long blonde hair. Her robes seemed oversized and yet she held herself like a noble.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Sienne, you may call me Alice." she said with a strange bow, it was perplexing to say the least. Maybe stranger was the whispers that followed her, with people looking on from afar.
If it was just that interaction I probably would have ignored her. But as the day progressed with my time turner in hand to go back in time for my other classes I saw her again, before the first time I met her. " It is nice to see you again, may I have your name?"
From that day my world slowly changed, as Alice slowly rewrote all I knew. She questioned things I never considered, acted as if some facts were normal, perhaps I thought I could learn from her.
As the year went on the stranger I found her, she almost seems to ignore the world around her, yet she knew things before anyone else. She would hint towards strange things like a troll on Halloween, but never would she act. She scored perfectly on so many assignments, yet she rarely attended classes.
I started to notice how lonely I was, how easily I fell into routine with this strange girl and also how people started to ignore me as well. I never was close to anyone, but never was I ignored before and yet in front of her, it all seemed meaningless.
But, overtime I noticed her opening up. She started paying attention whenever I was around, unlike before where even I was just a fleeting interest. Where as before it felt like that days or weeks skipped by until something else of note occurred to her.
Slowly she started following me around, teaching me the content of my year, talking about strange things I could barely follow. And slowly she started to take care of herself, her dirty hair now clean and robes now fitting.
But, as time goes on I can only find her stranger, like she doesn't understand how events connect properly sometimes, or how she escapes people and crowds as if they would hurt her.
I think I have finally realised that when she talks, it is never about her but rather the world. What is happening or how it works, theories and ideas well beyond my understanding.
And perhaps that's why it hurts so much, how untouchable she feels despite how much I wish to follow her as she follows me. And when the day ends, I find myself hoping to be with her just a little more.