Alice in Chains
First of all, this is my first story ever, so please be gentle with those reviews. Also, this is not prewritten. I had a dream last night and decided to write about it, and as such, you may not enjoy it. However, if you find yourself to be as twisted as I am, and you enjoy my story, please let me know, for I would be very pleased to write another chapter.
Disclaimers: Although I have modified these characters to fit my story, I give all credit for these characters, except for the ones I created myself, to Lewis Carroll and American McGee. I do not own Alice in Wonderland.
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Prologue
A loud sound echoed throughout the halls of the small apartment building, the sound of a door slamming. It was, in fact, the door of a rather angry young woman. She threw her keys onto her kitchen table and let her tattered black bag fall to the wooden floor. It landed with a thud, and she plopped down onto her small couch, running her long, thin fingers through her silky tresses of ebony.
She sighed aloud, clearly frustrated about something. Perhaps, it was that she had just been fired from her job down at the local tattoo shop? Yes. That seemed the case. She would eventually have to find another job, but tonight had already been too hectic, and she decided to go to bed.
She stood up, silently, slipping her shoes off and leaving them in the living room. She trudged to her bedroom, where she pulled her black jeans over her hips, legs, and finally feet, and let them drop to the ground. She sat in front of her vanity, picking up a brush and repeatedly pulling it through her long hair. What did she see as she looked in that mirror? Green eyes that seemed too green to be natural, pouty, dark lips, a small nose that was slightly upturned. A thin face, skin as white as snow, shaven eyebrows usually drawn on with a pencil. True, her figure was very curvy and voluptuous, but she seldom cared what anyone thought about the way she looked. If they wanted to stare, fine. Their problem, not hers.
She usually wore a certain amount of makeup, although she did not think she needed it. She just liked the feeling of putting it on, in hopes of someone noticing her. She did not care what that person thought about the way she looked, but she did want to be noticed. Something that never happened in her childhood....
Putting down the brush, she walked back to her bed, crawling in and pulling the covers up to her chin. She stare at the ceiling for more that a few moments, and eventually drifted into a deep sleep, filled with strange dreams and twisted thoughts. This happened every night...as though she had a purpose...as though someone needed her...as though she was meant for something greater....more bizarre than the real world....but for now, she was lost.....
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I realize that this chapter was short, but it is only a prologue. The story will get better as I progress, and I hope that you will stay with me and give me a chance to catch your fancy with my writing.
Thank you so much for your time. Yours Truly,
Mistress Pandora