Title: towers are meant for hiding
Prompt: Prompt 6—Because people don't have wings, we look for ways to fly
Summary: She could never understand why Alice liked coming out here so much.
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It's nice out here, Alice tells her, excited. She tries to draw a picture with her hands, waving her arms around her wildly while she does so. It's more funny than informative, but Alyss has never been one to ruin Alice's fun. You should come out.
Next time, she promises, she lies. In all truths, she has never been extremely interested in their mother's world. The abyss, with all its colours, with all its gifts, has been more than enough for her. A tea party is in progress, her dolls and chains all gathered and arranged for the fun.
The core bubbles excitedly near her, always happy no matter what she does.
Why would Alice want to leave all this for an empty tower?
-x-
It's the colours that draw her out, the blues, the greens, the oranges. The colours in the Abyss are muted and Alyss consents without thinking when Alice begs her to just try it once.
Trust me, you'll love it, she assures before they switch. Eagerly, Alice swaps into the abyss, happy to play with the core in the meantime. Besides, you always hog the core, it's my turn to stay inside.
It takes no more than a blink, but it's such a change.
Alyss is almost blinded by the colour and light. Blinded by the confusing array of shapes and sights. Dizzy, she sways before crouching on the ground.
At least the solid feel of the earth is the same. Noises filter in—something makes a loud click, followed by a soft rustle.
She's not sure what caused them, how to categorize them. It's even worse when she sees a familiar couch, a chair, a doll. Things she knows but so different, so much brighter. This world is too much, it overwhelms her. Flooded, she asks Alice to switch back.
She almost doesn't want to come back.
-x-
What's that, Alice? Alyss asks, staring at the square object in her hand. Tugging at it, she finds there are papers inside, papers with colours and symbols drawn all over them. It's taken a week to get to this point, to where the sounds and colours don't overwhelm her.
The window nearby promises more, so much more, and she's afraid to sit near it.
A book. Alice stops chasing the core—Alyss thinks the core might like Alice a little less if only because she takes so much energy. It's my favourite. The pictures tell a story.
"Pictures?" Alyss says aloud, her voice sounding foreign to her ears. Her voice takes a different pitch in Alice's body and small changes between their bodies still surprise her.
Looking down at the book , she touches the colourful parts. If she tries, she can put them together, see objects that she can find around this room.
If she tries, there is some order to this chaos.
-x-
Say, do you hate Oswald? Alice asks.
Alyss looks up from her couch, staring out into the bright lights of the Abyss. Hate?
Well, you don't like coming out when he's around. Alice pouts slightly, her affection for their uncle clear. He can't read you the story then.
Alyss laughs, her sister is so single-minded. No, it's not that. She pauses, trying to find the words for her feelings.
It's not hate, nothing that strong. Not dislike but she doesn't know. Their uncle isn't very good with words, always saying the wrong thing. Unlike her dolls, unlike her chains, he doesn't listen very well or do what she asks.
It's an odd feeling, to know that she has no control over him, over that world. Maybe that's why she prefers to be inside.
You sure?
No, it's nothing like hate, she replies. The core told her once, how her mother came here. How they were born here. The reason that they are one and not two, the reason she has to live between worlds.
So maybe, maybe it is dislike.
-x-
(It is mostly dislike, but sometimes, just sometimes, she thinks he isn't so bad. He stares at her sometimes, like he's not looking at her. Stares at her and sees her mother instead.
She hates that the most, hates that Alice doesn't even notice that. Maybe he doesn't look at Alice like that, then. Maybe he only looks at Alyss like that.
And while she hates it, his expression always turns so sad then. It's hard to notice, the downturn of his lips. The stilling of his fingers. Small movements and touches she can only find because Alice plays with him so much.
It's only in that sorrow that she feels any connection to this man. If he can miss her mother so much, if he can love Alyss despite how she treats him, if he can have all these feelings, then maybe Alice is onto something. Maybe their uncle is not that bad.)
-x-
That's a bird.
"A bird?" Alyss stares out the window at the small creature as it flies around the tower. So small, she stretches her hand out to catch it. It stays tauntingly out of reach.
Yeah, it makes those pretty songs you like to hear.
"That song is coming from this?" Alyss can hardly believe it. "What else is out there?"
Well, remember the lessons that Oswald is giving me? In that big book of animals? I know you were listening in that time.
Alyss can hardly deny it—it's the only way she is ever going to learn to read. "Yeah?"
Well, it's a huge list that has everything about everything. You should read it.
"I'll look in there then." Alyss looks back at the mess of a room that Alice had caused—it's hard to imagine their mother lived here once. Maybe she was messy too. Maybe she was neater than the two of them combined.
Oswald rarely talked about her if ever.
Finding it, she sat down.
They even have rabbits in there, like Oz. He's cuter than they are, of course.
"Oz is a rabbit?" Alyss cracks open the book and starts to slowly read it.
-x-
There's one picture in the book that sticks with her long after she's done reading. It's a simple picture, a yellow bird in a silver cage. Her fingers trace the image over and over, even as she reads what it means.
There is something haunting about the image. Sitting in the Abyss, organizing her dolls, she still traces the image onto her palm.
-x-
Alyss likes to switch out in the sunny days, when she can see clear out through the window. She likes the sun. The sky is full of colours, full of sounds. If she watches long enough, she can see the world change.
If she watches long enough, she can pretend she's out there instead of in here.
-x-
"Can we go further?" Alice asks, peering into the grove of trees. The bark is rough under her hand, the breeze cool against her skin. Their dress is covered in grass stains and Alyss hopes Oswald buys them a new one soon.
Alice is always too rough with their things.
"No," Oswald replies slowly, looking up from the sheet music he's writing. "You have to stay here."
"Why?" Alice whines, still staring longingly into the woods. "The tower's nice, this field is too, but can't I go a little further? I want to see where you go every day!"
"I can't," he states. "I shouldn't even be letting this happen."
"Oh come on, I'll behave." Alice approaches him, trying to act all lady-like as she does. Smiling, she begs, "Please? I'll be good. I'll even talk like you want."
Oswald seems to consider this for a moment. "Can't you talk nicer without going anywhere?"
"Nope."
He frowns. "I can't."
"Awww…" Alice grumbles, glowering darkly at him.
"I'm sorry."
"Well, you can't do some things," Alice says, smiling broadly at his apology. Plopping down beside him, she leans against him. "So, whatcha making?"
Alyss tunes out now, disappointed. This small world might be enough for Alice, this small zone of safety. Alice can accept anything if Oswald tells her to.
But for Alyss is not like Alice, is not as eager for Oswald's attention. This limited world, it's not enough. It will never be enough.
-x-
She is a bird in a cage. A bird in many cages. There is no way out.
-x-
"Hey!"
A voice calls out from below and Alyss almost falls out of the window. There's a heavy crash, a sound of falling. She stares down in surprise at the golden hair, at the bright green eyes as they emerge from the forest darkness.
"I'm Jack," the stranger announces, introducing himself. This is new. This is new and different and a taste of something more.
For the first time in months, Alyss feels the stirring of hope.
(And slowly, she begins to plot her escape.)