The golden hair from the girl stood outwards like rays of sunlight because of the static in the plane she had just recently gotten off of. Freedom is an illusion we cover our eyes with Alice thought to herself as the frightened waiter moved cautiously back towards their table.

"Is- is this one okay ma'am?" the waiter gestured towards the glass in his hand.

"I said LIGHT ice! For the last time! I hope the only money you make isn't from tips because you're not getting any today!" Her grandmother shrieked.

Without a word the young waiter, now reduced almost to tears, went back through the double doors. If only Alice could escape through them as well…

"So how's school Alice?" It was more of a conversation filler than pure interest.

"It's okay. I'm actually starting to like English more. I'm writing this really cool—" She was interrupted.

"OH! Steven darling, is that the shirt we got you? It looks amazing, don't you just love it?"

Her grandparents focused their attention to Alice's dad, and she focused hers to the black coffee they'd insisted she try. Black like the hole she tried to keep herself from falling through. The disgusting liquid steamed before her, and she wished she could stop her oncoming thoughts but she could not.

Alice was not claustrophobic but things always seemed to close in on her like elevator doors she could not control. Even the metaphors she thought up for amusement were pounding and unbearable more so then even her family obligations. The restaurant was loud with carefree people and her opinion was asked once for entertainment. The waiter that came to test his luck against her grandmother was a different one, but they all looked the same to Alice anyway. And soon all of the people in the restaurant including the obnoxious children, all morphed together into a sea of look-a-likes. Her grandparents, teacher, authority figures, everyone asked Alice to be open minded, but soon she realized they'd wanted her closed all along.