**This is my first time writing anything Alice related. It's always been my favorite story and I've always wanted to write my own take on it. I really liked the world American McGee created in his version of Alice, so I figured I'd use that as a jumping off point for my story. So, enjoy the first chapter of 'Alice', then review it and tell me what you think! And remember, only you can prevent forest fires.**

Alice

Chapter 1- A Shattered Looking Glass

I can still hear them screaming. Night after night it's the same thing. I lay in my bed, hoping that maybe this time I'll have a dreamless nights sleep, but the dreams come, and with them come…the nightmare.

It's always the same nightmare. It starts in a magical place, somewhere I vaguely remember from my childhood, having a party with my friends there. Suddenly, they begin to panic, yelling for me to wake up. When I do I see that my room is engulfed in flames. I scream and run to my parents' room to find them, but when I touch the knob my hands are burned from the searing hot metal. I call for them, and I hear them screaming. I hear them screaming. I hear them dying.

Then I wake up, screaming. I used to wake up crying, but my tears have run dry and I've forgotten how to weep. It seems I've forgotten a lot over the years. I've found that it's much easier to forget than it is to hold on to painful memories. I've had the same dream every night for the last ten years. Ten years. It's enough to drive someone mad! Of course, in my case, it doesn't matter. I'm already mad. That's why they locked me away, wrote me off as just another poor soul perpetually slipping away from reality. Can't blame them really, I'd lock me away too.

A nurse comes in and greets me. I think that it's the same nurse that came in yesterday morning, and the morning before that, and the morning before that, etc., but I'm not sure. The days just sort of blur together for me now. She throws open the curtains to let in the morning sun and I pull the covers over my head to keep it away. "Come now, dear!" she says, "It's a beautiful day, wouldn't you like to go outside for a change?"

I don't reply. I have a reputation to uphold, I haven't spoken to anyone but my doctor in the ten years I've been here. At first it was out of trauma, now it was really more of a game for me. A small way to keep myself entertained in this prison. My doctor hates when I called it that. He says that it's not a prison, I'll be free to leave when I'm cured. "There is no cure for me." I always tell him.

The nurse tries again to get me out of bed. I throw the blankets off the bed in a huff and stare at her, pouting, but eventually my frown turns into a polite smile. She helps me out of bed and to the bathroom to wash up. Showering is my favorite part of the day. Every morning I let the water wash away the images that the nightmare brings to my mind. I finish and head over to the mirror to brush my hair.

I look at my reflection, staring at this strange girl who always stares back. Long blonde hair, pale skin, and ocean blue eyes that could drown almost anybody. I had to admit, if I weren't insane I would probably have been a pretty popular teenager. I brush and dry my hair and apply the little bit of makeup they let me have here, then look back at my reflection. Yes, I definitely would have been popular, in another life perhaps.

I had somehow managed to accumulate an impressive wardrobe over the years despite never leaving the asylum. Ten years is a long time, and one tends to do a lot of growing between the ages of eight and eight-teen.

There was only one dress I've had for all ten years I've been here. The dress I was brought to the hospital in. It's a small blue dress (that is to say that it's quite small now but was actually a bit too big for me when I was younger) with a white apron sewn to the front. It had been singed pretty badly in the fire, but for almost three years I refused to take it off unless I absolutely had too.

Besides this one, there was only one other blue dress. Something I'd made myself two years ago. It was a larger version of the little dress, and every detail was exactly the same. Except for the size of course. During one of my "moods", as they call them, I even took the time to burn the dress in the exact same places the other one was, in the exact same shape but to a larger scale. I decided that I'd wear this one today.

The nurses and doctors hated when I wore this dress. They'd try to tell me that it was unhealthy, and I'd simply stare at them with a blank expression like I didn't understand until they left me alone. I do play up the insanity thing a bit sometimes, when it helps me get what I want.

I thought about going outside, but I decided against it. Besides, it looked like there was a storm coming. I hate when there's a storm while I'm trying to sleep, it makes the nightmare even worse. Maybe it'll pass early in the day and be cleared up before nightfall. It won't though, not with my luck.

I spent a few hours at my desk, drawing. I'm not a very good artist, but I wouldn't say I'm terrible either. Mostly I just doodle things that come to mind. It's always the same characters though, shadows from a distant memory. They were from that dream world, that magical place that I couldn't remember. Why can't I remember?

I try to put the memory to rest and return to my drawing. I finish and hold it up to admire my work. It was a picture of a funny looking man who was wearing an oversized top hat, sitting at a long table with a rabbit…or maybe it was a hare? I can never tell the difference honestly. On the table there was a tea pot and a little mouse was poking its head up out of it. They were having some sort of party.

The image brings a warm smile to my face, and I decide to tape it to the wall next to my bed. The entire wall is covered in these drawings. The entire room would have been covered if they'd let me keep the drawings I'd had before they moved me out of the children's ward. The room I live in now is pretty nice, if a little under furnished. There's my bed, my desk and two chairs. My dresser is inside of the small closet I have. Now that I think about it, it's almost depressing just how empty the room is.

The day passes uneventfully, just like every other day. If you were hoping for some sort of psychotic episode, sorry to disappoint you. Honestly, it's been almost a year since my last episode. My doctor has tried to get me declared sane, but I always come up with something to change his mind. I like it here, I'm safe here. The world outside of the asylum is harsh and unforgiving, and takes our loved ones from us when we need them most.

I didn't always like it here though, and I've tried to leave my own way a few times. The scars on my wrists are proof of that. They won't let me near sharp objects now, which makes it really hard to butter my toast at breakfast. I think they tend to overreact a bit.

Night falls, and I start getting ready for bed. I go to the bathroom to shower and brush my hair. As I pass the mirror over the sink I notice something off about my reflection. I walk back over to it and stare at my reflection. The eyes are different, darker, sinister. This girl in the mirror is not me. She smiles, but it's not a kind smile. "It's your fault you know." she says.

"What are you talking about?" I'm starting to panic now.

"It's your fault that mom and dad died."

"No, it's not my fault. I tried to save them!" Tears start forming in my eyes.

"They screamed for you to save them and you ran. You killed them!"

"Please, please leave me alone." I fall to the floor and sob into my hands.

"You're pathetic, you don't deserve to live. Poor Alice, can't do anything right. Can't even kill herself properly!"

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" I can't take it anymore. I scream and punch the mirror, again and again until there's nothing left. Then I sink back down to the floor and cry. My whole body is shaking with pain and anger, my hands are sore and bloody and covered in shattered glass. After a little while I finally work up the strength to stand.

I look to where the mirror had been and gasp. Where only moments ago an ordinary looking glass had been, there was now a large, gapping hole. The sides of it are dirt, which can't be possible since I'm on the third floor of the building.

"Alice," a voice calls from inside of it, "come back to us."

I've had hallucinations before, but never this vivid. I wipe my eyes and climb inside of the hole. I guess that if you're going to go insane you might as well commit to it. I crawl for only a minute or so before the tunnel drops off into a pit. I scream in surprise as I suddenly begin falling. This is going to be a long night, I just know it.

((*Update: Aug. 8* Fixed a few grammatical errors that I found and am still searching for more. I don't like publishing anything with errors so if you find any please let me know.

*Update 2: Sep. 26* Minor alterations made, you probably won't even notice them, they were just bugging the hell out of me. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to my writing, everything has to be just right.))