The Realization Pixies
Ainsley climbed up to the bed, it squeaked with oddities. . . It was so unfamiliar, yet it was the only thing since Wonderland she could take pleasure in.
Little prickling pixies seeped in through the walls, and crawled over to her. To escape, Ainsley pulled the covers over her head. She sat helpless for what seemed like hours, until she finally swallowed her fear. She pulled herself out of her warm blanket cocoon, and plowed through sleepiness to face the road.
Purple and white checkered bricks led Ainsley into a grove of multi colored petals wrapped around a single black diamond middle, dark green stems held the leading line, and carried her gaze. Many more flowers carried like this, every color matching the deep purple sky. So purple, it was the same color as the underwater wonderland. Then came the light pink and white rabbit with the elegant nose, running through the many flowers holding a large red pocket watch.
“Oh dear, must not be late. Hop, hop, hop.”
Without word, Ainsley took off after Herman in his rabbit form. She couldn’t match the speed of Herman. Blank thoughts ran through her head, she didn’t even make sure to watch her step, until she tripped and fell back into horrendous reality.
She was fighting with the blankets and the pixies strangling her, holding her down. Their little prickly fingertips broke her skin and drew little drops of blood that reached her skin like dew on grass at the break of dawn. Minutes passed until she fell back, too tired to fight from her adventures in the Wonderland jungle. Piercing green eyes bore into her eyes, and tightly pulled red hair showed fair skin, vermilion with rage.
“Get UP!” Mara squealed.
Ainsley’s heart drained, and she tasted salty tears in her mouth.
Ainsley sat there in her own misery, drowned by the shame of insanity. She would randomly start gasping for air, for the quick breath of familiarity that someone knew her. The air she breathed in tasted acerbic and stale. It stuck to her skin like honey on bread. Seeping into her very being that could not be drained like the hope in her heart. What was her life before murder? Did she have a life? Did she even murder someone? Tears hung in the corners of her eyes, and she felt nothing like before. Boredom.
A wrenching feeling set place in her gut. The badly tempered maid was gone, at least an hour late. The rustic clock with roman numerals that she never noticed before was regained in her memory. She was gaining every thing she knew bit by bit; piece by piece. Absence by Mara left Ainsley uncomfortable, when she didn’t even arrive to bawl at her. Ainsley’s mind almost combusted with frustration and agony.
“MARAAA!” Wailed Ainsley as her voice broke.
She sat there shaking, immersed in her own tears.
“M-m-mara. . . Please. . .”
Neuralgia took over, and Ainsley fainted.