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Our Wonderland

Author's note: This piece was made off of my own imagination,
Author's note: This piece was made off of my own imagination,  « Hide author's note


Chapter One
My frost bitten fingers held tightly against my thin white gown; the ends were drenched with white pearl like snow. My pale lips were pressed into a thin white line; my mouth was dry and cold. I flexed my fingers back and forth, not able to feel an ounce of pain, even though the blood kept leaking. My long unkempt blond curls lay on the arch of my back perfectly, even though the ice cold winds were thrusting trees out of the earth. I looked straight ahead, my blood shot emerald
Sorry for the spelling errors,
green eyes blinked out the cold winds. Each step I took forward the winds only moved me back with more force. My feet did not stop, my eyes darted towards the unknown. My vision was blurred and my head ached, I didn’t know what I was heading for.
My hand’s blood was just yearning to leak out of my body. No matter what I tried to make it stop it never ended. My energy got lower and lower every drop. My throat was sore and bleeding, the only liquid I had was my own blood. I lurched forward, desperate to reach my destination. I moaned in pain as my whole arm started to throb, the blood started ooze out with ease. My cheeks the shade of red roses, my lips pale as snow, and my whole body frozen as if I was an icicle laying on top of a roof frozen in time. My eyelids pushed down, forcing me to leave this world. With a flash of hope I saw a glimpse of what I was heading for. I saw white rabbit hair.
I awoke with cold sweat drenching my body; I lay on top of a bunk bed. Julius and Jill lay on the bottom. They were cuddled up with each other as if they were the perfect pair of nocturnal twins, but when they’re up they just never stop yelling. I clumsily walked out of cramped room, I tip toed my way towards the kitchen where lay my only exit. I swiftly put on my coat and torn brown boots with a missing shoelace.
“Where do you think you goin’?” Mother Teresa whispered angrily. I slowly turned on the balls of my feet to see eye to eye with a beautiful African queen. Who turned into a hard working mom with barely any pay. I could feel my face heat up with embarrassment.
“I’m just going out,” I announce holding my head up high, my bony pale body wracked from the movement.
“You know I don’t like you goin’ out there all alone,” My mouth opened but ended up falling short, Mother Teresa already starting her argument. “You aint comin’ back if you do!” Her argument felt more of a plea than an order. My hands were feeling up the stained silver handle, yearning to leave the apartment.
“I’ll be back at seven, don’t wait up.” I yelled out as I tucked my hands inside my blue stained coat. Closing the door behind me I walked on, into the alley and out. Living in New York City can be a bit of a shaky thing, especially when you live in the ‘stay clear’ area. But when you’ve been staying clear for most of your childhood you yearn to get out. No matter how much it’s a risk. When I was young I felt as if I was wrapped in a bubble, too far from the real world to really know anything. I could feel the brisk cold air through my bones, reminding me of the even more so dream.
The way the trees ached out of the earth, I could almost hear the trees screaming in pain. But the most memorable thing was the way the glistening rabbit white hair appeared in my blood stained hands. Almost something of a warning. Building after building was tattered and roaring with emotions and people. Christmas lights were shimmering and decorations of Santa with his mighty reindeer were smiling down at the whole city.
As I walked past crowds of people I finally reached ‘Hobo’s Pub’, the place I’ve been working at for the past four years. I worked as a bar tender, which was strangely an odd job to do. Listening to people’s problems, most of the time I give them advice anyone normally intoxicated would know. As if not to yell at your wife four hours on end then be kicked out, which for some odd reason they thought they were the ones who were being victimized. In all in all it was decent job with good pay, unless one of the drunks doesn’t pay the bill. But that’s whole other problem for the security.
“Hey look, it’s Alice!” Mickey, one of the waitresses that work at the Pub yelled out in her thick western accent. “Y’all got to see this s***, she aint got her momma sniffin’ us out anymore!” She yelled out with a loud clapping making Herbert’s laugh bellow out through the Pub. I rolled my eyes as slid into my uniform golden jacket, new and cleaned. I ran to the bar and started fill up the first few drinks.
“So what got you momma’s pantyhose in a twist?” She chirped looking down at a margarita. Herbert’s jelly like body swished back and forth as he moved forwards towards the entrance. I looked at her with the roll of my eyes.
“The usual,” I couldn’t help stomp around a few times. She laughed with a small little snort at the end, her hazel eyes sparkled with mischievousness. The way she was born reminds me of the Cheshire cat, always knowing of something before anyone else. And loving every minute of it, her passion for keep her mouth shut was unbelievably annoying after the past four years.
“So she’s still trying to get you in her little bubble like the twins?” She asked, her eyes yearning for more information. Since I wasn’t the best at keeping my secretes, so I told her.
“Yeah, she thinks our murderous illness is going to worsen by going out in the world. I still can’t see how the twins like not going outside.” I complained as I turned on the blender. My mouth dried just at the thought of my two siblings, simply just looking out through the kitchen window to see the outside world. Only a glimpse, that’s what I thought of the world when I was their age, it was only a glimpse.
“Isn’t it odd how much your adoptive siblings have the same illness as you?” She asked out loud.
“First of all, I was the one who was adopted Mickey. Second of all my mother decided that she wanted to adopt a ill sickened kid, which most of those kids do not get adopted. You could call my mother a saint,” I yawned giving a shudder; the cold air was breathing down my neck.
“Don’t yah mean that your mamma got no sanity,” She announce slapping the chocolate wooden counter. The blender drilled through my ear, making me regret wanting to make a smoothie. “You know your twenty-first birthday is only a week away. Don’t yah think you should move out of that place? It sounds like a real prison, and that sure aint a way of living,” She moved forward slouching her body over the counter.
“I can’t just leave my brother and sister there; they might just believe in keeping themselves locked up forever that will magically cure them. They’ll just eat our mother’s s*** and hope for the best,” I said strictly focusing on the blender, swirling pinks yellows and oranges into a tasteful treat.
“You know, all of y’all have to get your futures straight. But since yours is already leading down the drain you start getting your act together and start a future!” She yelled out. Right when I was about to say another excuse people started to pour into the once lonely pub. Mickey smiled and left me to my work, making me drift into some one else’s problems.
“My stupid daughter can’t seem to get out of damn liquor cabinet, damn b**** need to get out my life,” The man to my side who was obviously drunk yelled. Some men saluted and yelled out their agreement as if the exact same thing was happening to them, which is probably the case. My head ached with pain and my body wobbled forwards as I searched through my pockets for my Iron pills. I popped one in mouth swallowing it whole.
“Don’t you want some water?” Herbert’s husky voice boomed through the pub even with the full house. I looked backwards to see a child version of Santa only with a short brown beard and short brown curls. His red cheeks and pearly white teeth and jolly aurora make it even more possible of him being Santa. I nodded, cheered just at the touch of water touching my soar aching throat.
“Thanks Herbert,” I croaked, smiling as if that would make it all better. He pats me on the back with a hardy chuckle.
“So, have you ever thought of taking those art classes at NYC College?” He asked cocking his big furry eyebrows. His brown eyes sparkled in delight as I sighed in exhaustion. I started to suck down on my banana and strawberry smoothie as I passed down four bears to two drunken men swishing around like wild horses. “Don’t ignore my question Alice.” He stated entering the inside of the bar, he started to juggle three glasses; one of his best specialties for entertaining the guest.
“I just don’t know, maybe I’ll be earning my retirement money for the rest my life here.” I stated, cleaning out one of the glasses. He sighed as if this is what he was expecting out of me.
“I know your better than this crummy job, so go out and make living in being an artist.”
“Isn’t this place yours, why are you calling it crummy?” I asked, with a small smile appeared on my face.
“Because it most definitely is,” He laughed making his whole body shake with cheer. As the night went on my shift turned into a double shift, and then a triple. Soon it became three a.m. in the morning and I was still wiping away slobber and beer from the crystal glasses. Mickey has left hours before me and Herbert was cuddled in the upstairs apartment where he lived with his oh so kind wife and small dog Noodles. I put the rest of the glasses into the cabinets, quickly putting on my coat and locking the door putting up a sign bluntly stating ‘Closed’. I shivered from the gust of cold wind blasting through my body, my bones turning into icicles.
My blonde tangled hair was thrashing through the winds as I took slow and patient steps towards my destination. Art school sounded like a distant dreams that would only be something as far as the sun. I pinched my cheeks from the blush of just seeing the large beautiful academy that lay in front of me. The Art school that I’ve always wanted to go to. I headed through the entrance to meet a warm sugar feel to it; my dreams were running through halls as I spoke.
“Hello, are you a student here?” A husky young voice pooped over my shoulder, I turned to see a young man looking as if he was ready to conquer the world. His smooth brown coat matched his dark leather shoes and his slicked back black hair shinned over the headlights, his dark coal like eyes stared down at me as if I was nuisance. My eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“I heard that people who are thinking of taking classes could explore to see if they truly want to enter this school.” I stated. My mouth dry from his stare, my palms sweat from the nerves.
“That’s for exceptional people, are you exceptional?” He asked cocking on of his perfect dark thin eyebrows. I gulped dryly, nervous of what to say and how to say it. My thumbs intertwined together over and over, as if it was a dance. I slicked back my knotted gold hair back.
“I-I think so,” I mumbled.
“Well, let’s see about that.” He calmly walked towards the upstairs, pointing his finger upward. Stating my dread, he wants me to follow. As we took step after step I could feel my face getting hotter and hotter. New anything was something that I couldn’t get over, the feel of something that wasn’t home made me scared and nervous. The way he stared forward, walked, and talked made my bones cold. He was a walking corpse, his eyes felt dead and haze filled. As if his soul was being controlled by something otherworldly.
“Here we are, room B 123.” He said gently pushing the door open, we moved inside to see about six people in the large white blank room. Canvases, paper, computers, shading utensils, and just about any color paint. In the back I saw three older women about in their fifties looking over the class as if they were the three headed dogs watching over Hades. I dug my hands inside my ratty old jacket trying to keep from nervously twitching. “Now set yourself up and start sketching if it’s good enough you’ll be accepted in,” He announced to the whole lot, all of their eyes shouting out a fire of determination.
As time went by with nervous sketching and art block, I finally finished one of my paintings that turned out to be two men fishing near a river during a rain storm. I sighed in relief as I determined myself to jump out and leave without looking at anyone else’s piece of work. I’d probably redo my whole painting if I stare in awe at the new reborn Da’Vinci. As I strolled forward I was finally able to think, maybe I’ll be going somewhere. Maybe I’ll be able to escape from my over protective mother and enter the world.
The morning sky turned a bright blue, time was six thirty a.m. and my eyes were drooping with drowsiness. I yawned as I sleuthed towards the apartment building where my mother hid us, away from naked eye. Almost as if we were lab rats she wanted to keep alive and study. As if she was only curious on how long we’ll live. Our rare disease was only an amusement to her.
As my feet took step after step my mind was a haze, my body felt slow and aching. I quickly got out my pills once more, taking a mouthful. The pain numbed down once more. I looked at the clear bottle of pills, only three left. I sighed, my mouth dry with the taste of rust. I crashed into the garbage cans; garbage flew to the sky as I started to slowly drift away. My eyes slowly closing as I cuddled into the cold snow and disgusting garbage.
“Hey, lady, don’t yah think it would be best to get a move on.” A raspy voice appeared, my eyes lids twitching in annoyance. I looked up to see a man with a stereotypical homeless look. He leaned his body against the large green trash can. His matted brown curls and fat body smelled of a rat. I quickly stumbled to my feet as I trenched my feet towards the tattered building, home sweet home.
I slid between the unguarded doors as I walked up the beaten stair case, families sat on the stair case. Bed ridden or hiding from their debt. Step after step I could see families worried and crying, the economy’s state of being was not doing well. Since our whole state falling to the power of the Chinese, we have been attacked more often than ever. The age of 2014 is the time that our whole state fell and disease started to conquer the world, the Chinese succeeded in finding many cures. The Chinese immediately started to move up; they strike us at the worst of times for us in our American history.
As I walked to the door of our apartment building I quickly got out my keys and turned the lock, ready to be verbally beaten by my mother. I opened to see the thing I was least expecting. The windows were open and the back door was beaten down, the room was torn apart and there was left with only silence. The keys clunk to the floor as my mouth lay agape, my eyes widening in fear.
“Mother!” I screamed out, searching through room one by one. I yelled out for my sibling’s names, but they did not answer and they were not found. I soon came stumbling upon a note on the wooden floor in the cramped wooden closet. It red in golden ink,

Dear Alice,
We have come back, we needed you, but now you need us. Our Wonderland has come to yours,

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misteriousgirl said...
Dec. 14, 2011 at 1:39 pm

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