Part one

"Just take a deep breath. There's no going back," I sighed. I set the comb on the vanity and swept my bronze colored hair behind my ears, then before them again. As I bit my lip, I noticed the vague, but ever-present dark circles shadowing the creases of my blue eyes. After traveling so much and so often and learning about various wonders and enchantments, it was common to encounter a variety of sleepless nights. The most frequent cause of the tossing and turning, however, was the simple thought of Jefferson. He is the reason why I choose to return. Perhaps it is a mistake, perhaps it will endanger me…and perhaps, I don't belong in his realm either. Regardless-it is a ledge I am willing to dangle from.

I added one final touch- a quick swipe of wine-tinted lipstick. I shot a worried glance towards myself through the looking-glass, and replaced that glance with an unsure smile. With a chill down my spine, I swiftly pivoted in a semi-circle and grabbed my antique luggage. The train ticket that would take me to Storybrooke was neatly folded in my dress pocket. Although it was relatively inexpensive, and this particular train suited me quite well, I kept nagging myself at how I easily could have saved money…but mind over matter…

"Jefferson." I thought, over and over again. Even when I didn't think in depth about him, his name popped into my head constantly until the subject had my complete attention. "Jefferson…What will he do when he sees me? Will he remember me? Will he even give me much thought? What about Grace? Is this all some mistake? STOP!" I grimaced horribly and forced myself to quit analyzing things. I took a very deep breath through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. Storybrooke was less than an hour away from Caileen Creek, and I absolutely had to compose myself! The plethora of anxiety, fear, and emotional exhaustion had finally overwhelmed me. I felt as though I had been placed on a hook and thrown out to a stormy sea. There was no one to rescue me from swallowing water instead of air. Being trapped in a bottle surrounded by the angry pool of my own tears seemed like a field day compared to this! Looking back, it wasn't so bad.

I'm certain you know who I am now.

And journal, you must know why I must keep this a secret! I dare not pen my name down now, because as we know, things can get messy when I write... My identity must remain a secret not only from Jefferson, but all of Storybrooke's inhabitants until a better time. I need to know those that I can trust on a more personal basis before rushing to anyone for aid, or rushing to anyone's aid. My pseudonym this time around? Well, according to my very false social security card, birth certificate, passport, drivers license, and bills…I am Alessandra Antoinette Maddox. When I introduce myself, I will gain other peoples trust by asking them to refer to me as "Leslie, simply Leslie." I'll say, with a kind smile "It was a childhood nickname, and I'd like for you to call me that."

I am not completely fabricated. I really would like to get to know the good people of Storybrooke, and keep the enemies on my list! I only insist because I intend to not accidentally slip who I really am. If I even stutter while saying my , er, legal name, it could provoke bad news…I shudder to think of what this evil queen has in store for those against her. Who could be more heartless and impatient than the Queen of Hearts?

The train screeched and whistled as it snapped me out of my thoughts. "Oh dear, oh I'm here! Be calm!" I thought. I sounded like Mr. Rabbit for a second. That reminded me, and I peered over to the left to check on my *cough* pet rabbits, hedgehog, and my narcoleptic dormouse. Poor dear, he is always so tired- but when he is stirred, he has the energy of a two year old!

Almost mechanically, I grabbed my things and marched through the train station with a titanic knot in my stomach. It seemed as though the butterflies were at war with one another. I am sure that my animal companions could sense it, because for once the rabbits ceased bickering with one another.

I walked through the town, which was set in a glorious spring-time atmosphere. Spring time is my favorite season. My head was held high, and I'm sure that I looked rather odd to the folks- but it wasn't my first time being a rare visitor to another land. I received stares, questionable gazes, and befuddled glances. I casually looked at my attire to see what others were gawking at, then immediately recalled that Storybrooke almost never has visitors. With the crisis they are facing now, a front to keep for a visitor is not ideal. I made a game out of the people who stared at me. It's quite funny really, but I must not dawdle!

I stepped into Granny's, and it was as though I was the television and someone had just flicked the channel to an important game. I prepared myself for this moment quite thoroughly, when my stomach wasn't in a gargantuan knot over Jefferson. I did not sweat, I did not look to the ground. Instead, I smiled graciously and batted my eyelashes. I set my belongings and companions down at a table, and stepped towards the bar. "Good afternoon," I beamed at the waitress.

"H-Hi." She stumbled. "Wh-What can I get for you?" I could see that she was utterly confounded as well.

"Well…I would like a slice of apple pie. I hear it is the best."

She jotted the order down quickly and slid it across to the kitchen. "So are you new in town? I've never seen you around here. It's pretty small." She nervously and speedily asked.

This was the question I had dreaded, as I never quite figured out how to answer. I decided that I would respond, "Yes, I lived here when I was young for some time. I left for college, and I just graduated with my master's degree. I am here to stay now, and I'm currently writing children's literature. It doesn't pay at all though, frankly." I chuckled.

"That's odd…I'm sure I would remember you. We should be around the same age…" she pondered, passing me the slice of magnificent apple pie I craved for.

"I graduated a year and a half early. I was quite studious and homesick, and when I did live here, I honestly never got out much. I missed out on a lot of things, but I want to take life by it's horns." This much is true. I went to Amherst, then Yale and studied liberal arts and sciences. The later though, is especially true…

Ruby listened attentively as she leaned in and rested her head on her fist. "Interesting, You must have had some adventures up there. Storybrooke is pretty still."

"Oh, believe me," I chuckled, "I've had quite the adventure." I chuckled, and paid for my snack.

"Oh, and hey. I know you aren't exactly new, but don't worry about the stares. It probably gets tiresome after a while but, people really aren't used to new residents," Ruby whispered.

I smiled at her warmth, and promptly grabbed my things. "Please, keep the tip. It was nice talking to you, Ruby. My name is Alessandra Maddox. I'd love to come back again."

She smiled and thanked me. There's no doubt she wondered who I really was. But she never found out!

I knew where Jefferson lived, and how he would react to me. Okay, knowing this much is admittedly eerie, but we're all mad here! Thankfully, I did not need to scheme an entire plan from scratch of how I would meet him, and what excuse there was to meet him. There was an ad in the Storybrooke Times that he placed with his address available. He was in the market for a housekeeper. Knowing that he is a recluse, is very involved with his daughter, Grace, and is occupied trying to find a way to get back to his real home, it's not a surprise as to why he needs a housekeeper. With all the activities he has endured, he must be playing his nonsensical game of Clean Cup. I would sincerely be amazed if Jefferson has even bothered to wash the dishes, let alone remove the filthy ones from the table!

Forgive me, journal. I know I may seem a little vague, but I am really running a huge risk by even writing these happenings down. Someone could find them, and what a fiasco that will turn out to be! Worst case scenario, I could unintentionally cause something to happen. I'm being quite cautious though, so I doubt that writing will take me on another serendipitous adventure. Alright, I will tell you. I'm putting a lock on this then burning it.

When I was ten and fell down the rabbit hole, I did not expect for it to happen. It was a surprise journey that led me to many wonderful things, but in the end, I had to go back to reality- my reality. I never wanted to and returned more than once to Underland. In the process of doing that, I learned that the items and places that intrigued me actually led me to other worlds. There was Wonderland, Neverland, and there was even a place where you could see the past projected into a lake, as if it were a movie. All the times I "fell" into tunnels leading to enchanted lands, I rationalized with myself, thinking they were accidents. They never were. It just so happens that I possess a gift- I am able to travel from one world to the next. It is usually easy, but sometimes it becomes difficult and exhausting. The items that intrigue me immensely are usually the portals to other worlds. This interest is like a metal detector that guides me to a treasure. I have researched and studied, and I have found no one else that possesses this gift. It is my gift, I fear, that will cause quite the controversy in Storybrooke. I have something that everyone wants. I know the wrong people can easily get to it if I am outed, and I am terrified for my safety. I am certain that I can greatly help everyone get back to normal. I am also certain that Regina and Cora can use me, then destroy me if I become a nuisance to their schemes.

I need to be careful when I write. When I grow tired of ordinary stories with ordinary people, I tend to use my imagination and create my own tales. Sometimes, if I'm writing a fictional story involving real people…the events I pen down actually happen. This usually produces adverse effects I wish not to disclose here. It is a very dangerous practice, and no one can find out about this either.

I must be careful! I do not want to cause panic here. It's like when there's a natural disaster and resources become limited. Everyone goes to the store for food and water, and when the stores run out- riots start.

My plan must run smoothly. Jefferson remains a recluse, for the most part, so there is a slim chance he will know if I am a true resident. There's an even slimmer chance he'll recognize me.

But then again, this is Jefferson we are talking about. He is, after all, extremely odd and incredibly…well, mad.

"Oh my, it's half passed four! I better groom myself before I become tired!" muttered the White Rabbit.

"Quiet down now, my friend! You need to relax and have a nice cup of tea! That's what you'd better do! Hm!" argued the March Hare in a distinct, Scottish accent.

"Hush! We are here. Now don't start quarreling, and keep your voices down during our stay! If he hears you, he'll become alarmed and think that he is actually gone off his rocker!"

"Mums the word," the March Hare giggled.

After the Queen of Hearts began her tyrannical rampage in search of me and the Hatter, I could not bear to leave them. I was afraid that Wonderland too, would fall under a similar curse. Parts of the land have already been ruined. I am determined to go back and restore peace and loveliness to the place that gave me self-discovery.

I skipped on the stepping stones towards Jefferson's home. The house was enormous and mansion-like, and was surrounded by acres of woods. It was just my type of place, and I sensed that I could get really comfortable in there. There was a chance, however, that my monologue for the job of housekeeper would not work. I inhaled and prepared for the worst.

"Chin up high," I thought. There's no way he will recognize me. I hid my suitcase behind a pillar, along with the rabbits and the mouse. I took my purse, and my book.

I wish that he would recognize me and forgive me.

I grabbed the ring that hung on the door and knocked. Hurriedly, I hid my luggage and my friends behind a pillar. "Shush, you'll be safe here!" I rushed back to the doorknob, pressed the wrinkles out of my dress and waited. The door swung open, and my heart skipped a beat.