The end came gently. No tears. No screaming. No words, even. Revelation simply came to Alice: Wonderland was home. Her old world was not, and never was and never would be.
How many times had she sat at the table of her family home staring at the empty chair beside her father? Mother sat there once. Her mother had spoken quietly and laughed softly in the same way Lorina did. Lorina, a true lady, sat right beside her mother's seat even after it was empty. Nobody dared sit there. If a rare dinner guest moved to sit in that place, Alice's father always stopped them dead with one sharp word.
Nobody would sit in that empty spot, not Edith, not Alice and not Lorina, and soon the emptiness became familiar. Silence and emptiness accompanied each family dinner. Lorina attempted to start light conversation, her angelic face lighting the dim dining room, but no conversation was ever sustained for long in the absence of mother. Lorina could have scooted over into mother's seat if she wanted. Alice suspected she was the only person her father would allow this of, but Lorina never did.
At least, that was the case for a while.
He was Alice's tutor, and over a few months he became close to both Lorina and Alice. Well, he never spoke as often to Lorina as Alice suspected he wanted to, but he yearned for her. His gaze followed her each time she came close. He had a special smile when he saw the brightness of her presence. He smiled for the lightness of her step and the beauty of her words.
Alice invited him to dinner one day, hoping to get closer to him. In order to give him room at the table, Lorina scooted into mother's empty seat. Alice balked, but she wasn't angry at Lorina. The chair was a chair. It was meant to be sat in, but somehow Alice had hoped it would stay empty and forever hold the memory of her mother. The chair was an artifact of a memory long past, caught in stasis of the moment her mother had sat and eaten there, and Lorina brought the artifact straight from the past to the present. She broke the stasis.
She had glanced at her father. He said nothing and showed only an uncaring, stoney expression. Edith, eternally petulant, seemed not to even notice anyone else. She ate quickly before wandering off, secluding herself in her room to not be seen again until dinner the next night.f
Deep loneliness crushed Alice from all sides. She felt an island to herself, separated from everyone else by the memory of her mother she couldn't let go. Nobody else cared, but she did. She always would. She loved Lorina, but Lorina was not her mother. She was a perfect imitation of mother, but she was not mother.
Alice excused herself, and she wondered if her tutor's gaze followed her as she left. But she knew he didn't. Nobody looked at Alice. Nobody thought of Alice. She was periphery.
Her reflection met her in the mirror at the end of the hall. A clean, lovely mirror, but she knew without Lorina the house would fall to disrepair. Lorina cleaned. Lorina cooked. Lorina was perfection.
Alice touched the girl in the mirror, touched her hand to her reflection's, and stared through the space between her and this other girl.
She would drift through this life this way... as an unimportant, unnecessary person. A burden at best. A stupid, ugly girl. She cried, but the tears didn't mean anything. She cried to an empty room in an empty house void of her mother.
Warm arms embraced her from behind. Blonde curls fell over Alice's shoulders. The sweet scent of strawberry cake, which Alice knew Lorina had slaved to bake for dinner, followed.
"Why so sad, Alice?" Lorina said gently.
"I-I-" The tears choked her words. "I-I don't know. I don't know. Something is wrong, but I don't know."
Lorina stroked her hair and wiped her tears. "We love you, Alice. Never forget. Never be lonely. Nev-"
"-ver be lonely." Peter stroked her hair and wiped her tears. "I don't care who you are with and what you do, but never leave me. Never make me lose your presence. Please, Alice."
"Why do you love me?" She didn't understand.
Peter laughed softly, his red eyes lighting with happiness and contentment. "Does it matter? Because I see you. Because I know you. Because I can touch you, and so I love you. I could never not love you. You are my light."
"I don't understand." She wanted to understand. She wanted to see the light in herself that he claimed to see. It irritated her that she couldn't see what Peter saw. He wasn't lying. She knew he truly felt this way, but was he blind?
She looked into his eyes and met a gaze full of love. His arms cradled her. His fingers wiped her tears. The end came gently in his arms. Wonderland was home, and she'd never return to her old world.
The most beautiful end of all; an end filled with love, with happiness and joy for as long as he could hold her.
"I love you, Peter."
