Down, Down, Down

A Fanfic Inspired By Everything Alice In Wonderland: mainly Lewis Carroll and Tim Burton. Including songs; Down (Blink 182), Safetysuit and Painting Flowers (All Time Low)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places in this story, we know!

Summary: "You won't remember me" Hatter whispered. "How could I forget? I'll be back before you know it." I responded without hesitation. Yet with treacherous disregard to my promises, the traces of Wonderland had been diminished from my memory and reduced to an unsettling dream.
But I would return to Wonderland for the third time in my life, how will things turn out if do not remember anything much at all?

Chapter One

The earth beneath me squelched in protest noisily as I hurried through the forest. Each footstep I took to push myself forward as I staggered, had me splashing muddy soil onto the bottom of my baby blue dress, almost as quickly as it was becoming soaked through by ice cold rain. The frill white stocking and doll shoes I was wearing had already long become ruined, so I tried not to think about the trouble I would be in when my mother found out about them. Or the fact that this outfit made me look too much like a little girl.

Instead, I thought about getting safely out of the storm and into any shelter – even if it was beneath some thick, leafy foliage or inside the hollow bark of a tree – I was also thinking about how silent it was and how lucky it was that no stray twigs had snagged my dress as I ran recklessly. My mother would be even angrier then. The deafening silence was broken only by my heavy breathing as I released hot steam from my lips into the winter air, the heavy rain crashing and my feet splashing through the mud dirt. My hands grazed against the trunks of trees as I passed them, with my hands out before me clumsily trying to pull myself faster. I suddenly became aware of the dampness of my face, and took a moment to wipe the hair that was stuck wetly across my chin and mouth.

It was obviously a mistake that I had not brought my winter coat out with me, so I knew it would be my fault if I ever froze to death. Or drowned? Because this rainfall, somehow didn't look like it was ever going to end. How long had I been running? It felt like hours. I had never been good at keeping time - at least as far as I could remember…

A golden pocket watch kept in a velvet blazer front pocket… I saw behind my closed eyelids when I blinked. It lasted about a millisecond, which is usually how long these unexpected flashes lasted.

Startled by the image, I wondered why it was so familiar to me and at the same time why I could not remember where or how I had acquired that memory. My hands turned into fists in my frustration as I ran.

Sometimes it felt like there was this huge time in my life that was empty, or that had been taken away from me, stolen? And somehow though I had no clue exactly what happened then, if anything. I had tried for several hours on some days to remember, sitting in silence working with my eyes closed, but failed.

Vivid wide green eyes with specks of gold and blue… suddenly appeared in front of me in the dimming darkness of the dusk. They made me jump and my heart instantaneously skipped several long beats. Yet when I peered ahead of me again - they were gone. For some reason whenever I thought of these familiar green eyes, my chest would begin to ache and I wanted to fall to the ground crying for loss.

I was aware that I still had no idea whose eyes they were, or where I had seen them from…

I knew it. After all these years of conjuring up silly stories in my mind. I was finally crazy. I had finally become mad! Mad Alice! I blinked to get the excess rain out of my eyes… or where they tears? I was not sure at all. But when I used my now open palms to claw away the water from my face, I stumbled over the objects naturally scattered on the dirt.

Before I could pull myself upright and steady my balance, I tripped over another fallen branch. But because my vision was still a murky blur, I could not manage to see or haul myself back from falling into the soaking dirt floor. In my mind I pictured a large, long pool of foggy brown water that would be deep enough to have me sunken to the elbows. So I acted as fast as I could, shielding my face with my arms and hands, at least if I fell into a mud puddle my face would be saved… even if the clothes my mother had worked hard to buy and make me wear were wrecked forever. This may have been a good thing on any other day, except that I was fond of this very old dress.

I felt myself fall through the rushing cold air, but was moderately surprised when I never touched the muddy floor, or even landed onto any ground at all. Instead, I just fell… and fell… and fell. The air suddenly became a little warmer and I could feel my hair whipping around me despite a lack of change in speed, neither continuing faster or slower. Regardless to repeat… I still never reached the floor?

With a jolt of joy in my stomach that I, myself did not understand I unwrapped my icy, damp arms from around my face and discovered a wide, deep and dark, dark hole in front of me. It was so deep that it stretched beyond me it what seemed like a never-ending pit. My eyes widened instantly that I thought they may engulf my entire face, which of course was impossible.

Uselessly, I tried to struggle midair to grab onto something that would my stop my fall, but there were so very few objects I could reach that I looked ridiculous frantically moving my arms around me, as if I were swimming mid-air. With a sudden disregard for seeing the crazy, my fingers brushed against the bed frame of a golden, ancient bed and through the thistles of a patterned lampshade. I had not managed to hold onto them for long enough to stop me from plummeting downwards… so I continued.

But as suddenly as I felt my eyes begin to prick with the dryness of not blinking, my falling – or floating downwards – I slowed, as if gravity's hold on me had loosened. Peering through the darkness I noticed a dim floor, almost the same colour of the velvet darkness that surrounded me. I thought inwardly of how much pain would be caused for that great a fall and hitting hard against the ground finally.

Nevertheless, though my mind told me I would not feel pain from reaching the floor from my fall, I immediately covered my face again by wrapping my pale arms around it. Then for a second time, when I did not feel myself touch the ground, I became shocked at my lack of pain or injury and that when I peeked through the gap between my arms, I had realized I was already laying face down on the floor… When I jerked to turn around and face the hole I had fallen all the way through, in the fear that the large items that had fallen faster down than me would reach the ground also. I was met with a normal ceiling with a extremely dim candle chandelier. As if there was no trace of my fall. I was crazy for sure!

How was this possible? Was I dreaming? Of course I was!

Maybe I was still lying in that mud puddle in the middle of the darkening woods, unconscious for hitting my head. So, yes. This was a dream.

I stood up unsteadily, having to walk over to a small, round wooden table that happened to be in the centre of the equally circular room, and brushed the dust off my incredibly dirty dress. My dress which was once a faded, baby blue was now half brown in splashes from the waist down. I scrunched my face with distaste and a little sadness.

When I realized I had not yet woken up, I pinched myself several times – getting more painful in increasing levels with each time I repeated the action – until I almost screamed and my eyes watered from the sting of the final pinch. I had not yet woken up. Was I really dreaming? Because that usually did the trick, if nothing else.

With a stifled sigh, I brushed the hair out of my face and tilted my head up to examine the room. The room really was as dark as the pit, so that one had to really adjust to the dim light to notice that at each 45 degree angle of the room, there was a door – all of different styles and aesthetics – but all as dark as the wall it was sunken into, making it difficult to distinguish between them. I released my gripping hold onto the empty table and noticed I had left a clear handprint in the layer of dust. Had no one ever tended to this little room?

I hurried over to the first door directly ahead of me, which was ominous in the way it towered a metre or so larger over my head and had deep panels on it with little carved drawings of tea cups. With my hand shaking a little from unknown and un-understandable emotions, I clasped the black handle of the door and took a last sweeping look at the other doors that were in slight vision of the shadowed room. One had a castle carved on its panels, with towers that would stretch high up in the sky, whilst the other one half engulfed in shadows had an image of a forest – neither which felt as safe as this door. My hand gripped on its handle. I was not willing to be going into another forest again either… if there was one behind that door.

I peeled my eyes away from behind me and looked up and down the door in front of me, my grip tightening around the handle as if it were a life source. Though somewhere in my mind, it told me that these doors would not open without a key, that they were locked from visitors… locked from strangers like me. That when I finally turned the handle and pushed my body weight onto the door, I was certain it would not open. But then I heard the faint "click" as it unlocked and opened it front of me, dragging me forwards as it swung aside. I gave a little sigh of relief when I was met with a sunny, summer scene in front of me and a summer breeze swept past and into a small dusty room behind me. I closed the door.

Slightly blinded by the sight in front of me and took a hand above my forehead to shield the rays of sun from my eyes, after that I was able to see much better. I was standing at the opening of a long field, and at the end stood a small café with a swinging sign hinged to the roof of tea cup drawings, and a stone patio outside of it with a few tables and seats. However, there were no people around and the windows were glossed and too far away to see if anyone was inside. In the distance there was a little windmill with a stone chimney beside it that had smoke seeping out of it; maybe there would be people there to help me. They could tell me where I was and how to get back home. Home?

The grass beneath me was the most vibrant jade colour I had ever seen that it was almost unnatural for grass to be this healthy, it was also neither too long or short as most grass was – as if this had been perfectly tended to. I must commend them, if ever I met them and what a crazy thought that was to praise somebody for having perfect grass. I smiled a little for the first time today… if today was still the same day I had woken up to. Seeing as the last thought I was it was dusk turning to night and now, it was already mid-morning? How could that be?

Suddenly I was vaguely aware of a prickling at my back and up my neck that I twisted around and jumped back, almost tripping over my own feet clumsily. When I did balance myself, looked up to find that the door that had taken me here, had disappeared and in its place was a tall man of bizarre and rather peculiar apparel gawking at me with wide eyes. Wide, vivid green eyes… I thought to myself. It shook me to my heart and my lips parted with a gasp at this somehow, familiar stranger.

He took off his high top hat, which was deep black with a flaring red ribbon wrapped tightly around it and in that ribbon was a little white paper tag tucked inside with a price still on it. This man also wore a matching red military sort of jacket made of patches of different materials, in some places patches of velvet, suede and other plain cotton or denim. The cuffs and collar, oddly enough were yellow and the jacket sported baby blue buttons – underneath the jacket was a pastel green formal shirt with a white cloth with red dots on it in the place of a bow. His bottom half was rather alright, for he wore a pair of black trousers that complimented his long, slender legs and at the end were tucked into a pair of vintage wing cap or brogue brown leather boots. He was oddly dressed indeed, but in my mind I thought it suited him well in an extraordinary way. I had decided that I liked it very much in a few seconds also, but held back my smile. Instead my lips remained tightly flat.

Now that he took off his hat and held it with grasped pale fingers to his chest I could see his mound of black hair that shined reflectively with its extremely dark shade. Though a little ruffled and messy, it looked attractive as some of it fell onto his face and over his eyes, whilst the rest of the strays swept sideways in a right-wards direction. His unblinking emerald eyes continued to stare at me and through me piercingly. I threw him back an expression of discomfort, to which he responded.

"Alice?" He whispered, taking a hesitant step forward as I followed with a step back - even if I wanted to throw my arms around the waist of this beautiful stranger and bury myself in his arms. With that though crossing my mind, he outstretched his arms as if he was going to do just that. Hat still in hand he held out his arms towards me as he took another small step toward me.

"Don't you remember who I-" He began, but I cut him off.

"Who are you?" I said with an unused and croaky voice for having not spoken for the longest time. I brought my arms up in front of me, unsure whether I was us going to use them to protect me or pull his hands towards me. I decide to use them to guard me. To which he looked taken aback before an expression of pure grief, he then dropped his arms and propped the hat atop his head again so that its rim covered his eyes just as his hair did. His lips curled weakly into an attempted smile.

"You promised to remember. But you forgot?" He said, with his voice unwavering.

"What?"

He had recovered quickly, for there was not a trace of sadness in his expression but of sparkling curiosity when he finally tilted his head back up to look me in the eyes. Those handsome green eyes. That was not a flash this time, but a mere passing thought, "Hello, my name is Tarrant Hightopp. But please call me Hatter and welcome to Wonderla-"

"You are the boy from my dream!" I exclaimed, rudely interrupting him another time. But this time around, he did not respond with a look of surprise and as a substitute, cocked up an eyebrow whilst tilting the side of his face toward me as if waiting for an explanation, "I dream about this place when I sleep or sometimes have flashes in the day which I don't understand. But you are in my dream sometimes, even though I don't know who you are. I always see your eyes, and I think I imagine myself sitting in front of that windmill on a long dinner table." I pointed in the distance, somehow now that I had begun saying the flashes out loud, they began to make more sense – but still unsure if they were just figments of my dream.

I was suddenly aware of some of the things I had just said and blushed a little too wildly, my cheeks becoming a shameful shade of rose. Why was I so affected if this person in front of me was only a part of a dream?

"But you mistake yourself, this place Wonderland is real. Maybe you have been here before?" He said, startling the silence between us and as if he was reading my mind. The last part of what he said had a mischievous hint it that when I looked up at him, he was smirking. His face was like a mood ring – ever changing expressions, ever changing emotions.

"No, I think you are mistaken – uh – Hatter. I have only been here in dreams and this right now is a dream! I am dreaming because I hit my head in the woods."

Un-phased by me he replied calmly, "A girl I once knew told me that she would pinch herself to wake up from a dream and that it worked every time. Why not try it?"

"Why don't you?" I answered back without thinking.

Within seconds he had enclosed the space in between us and was now standing a mere few centimetres of me. All I could see was his face as he engulfed my vision; I felt his own warm breath on my face as I held my own in anticipation. My fingers wrung tightly to the clothes of my dress in my hands but with one hand he took my left arm in his warm grasp but hesitated as his other hand hovered over my other arm. His wide unmoving eyes, though were staring down at his hands were they burned me, for a second glanced up at me for signs of emotion. I gave none.

"I am terribly sorry about this." He excused before pinching me, a smug look appearing on his face. His deep green eyes with specks of random colour were the last I saw. I fainted.

A/N: First story for Alice in Wonderland and the first story to mark my return to the fanfiction world. Please enjoy!
Also, I know I did change Hatter's appearance, not that I don't commend the way Hatter looks in the Burton movie - but it is kinda creepy. So I gave my own interpretation of him in my mind, let me know what you think about it?

I took this inspiration from a lovely drawing I found on deviantart which matched very closely to my own image -
.net/fs16/f/2007/177/3/e/Mad_as_a_Hatter_by_

-fallen11angel