By day she had always been the perfect little girl. The one that did all of her chores on time, the one that finished all of her lessons before tea.. She was the daughter of a semi-famous nobleman. Such things were expected of her. She was expected to know calligraphy, the art of ballroom dancing, mathematics, cooking.
By night, she was a princess. She was a mermaid dancing upon the waves. A faerie on the wings of winter. An elf in the winds of change. At night, when the perfect little noblewoman; the one with perfect posture, perfect logic, perfect attendance; was to be in bed asleep, she dressed in her finest finery. Dresses in white, with lacy trails, wing-like bows, and mesh bustles; Dresses in silver, made of silk that flowed like water. Dresses in black that trailed along with her like a pool of spilled ink. Jade combs, pearls, curls and necklaces.
Life was perfect.
Or so it seemed.
When will you stop dreaming? they all ask. When will you be all there?
Alice lived happily ever after in Wonderland, why couldn't she?
Alice really sits with her hands clasped in her lap, in a modern day asylum. Her eyes are glazed over, and her head is tilted toward the ground. She sits through tea in a straightjacket.
If Alice could live happily ever after, why can't I?