So basically, this is a sequel to Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland. Alice has grown up and married a man named Geoffrey Liddel. Together, they had a daughter, whom they named Raven Mirana Liddel. Geoffrey has made quite a bit of money on some small time inventions, and they currently reside as a family in an estate just north of London. This first chapter is basically a flashback. More will be explained in future chapters.

It all began with a dream. Or a nightmare, if you prefer. I can remember it vividly, as if I'd just woken up in a cold sweat, my chest heaving with each shallow breath, my young hands shaking. On nights like these, I'd scramble out of bed, dashing hurriedly to my parents' room, hoping upon hope that they might still be awake. Slowly, I'd tiptoe up to their large oak bedroom door and gently push it open. But it would creak nonetheless, allowing them to become instantly aware of my presence.

"What is it, Poppet?" my father would ask in his deep, calm voice, peering over his half-moon spectacles to watch me with his clear blue eyes. My father, Geoffrey Liddell, usually had his slightly crooked nose buried in a book. He'd taught me how to read by the time I was three, and I had been living in a world of fiction ever since. Timidly, I would approach the bed, the tip of my thumb just under my top lip. My mother, tall, pale blond, skin as white as cream, would rise gracefully from the sheets, her ivory nightgown cascading down her supple curves. She'd come to me, holding out her ready arms for an embrace.

"Was it another dream?" she'd inquire, holding me tightly to her bosom. I'd nod slowly, my eyes level with her prominent collarbone, on which my grandmother's necklace would be hanging.

She would nod as well, as if she understood completely. "Come along," she would say, holding out her delicate, long-fingered hand. "Let us sit in the study, and you may tell your mummy all about it. I'll make some hot chocolate for us."

And so she would lead me to my father's study, humming to herself, an unfamiliar tune. I kept my eyes on my feet, wondering to myself if everyone had the same, bizarre dream every night. It bewildered my seven year old mind.

My mother would allow me to sit in my father's large, very comfortable armchair, while she took a seat on an ottoman. The cushions would swallow me up, and I would have to force myself to sit up straight just so I wouldn't sink even lower.

She handed me a steaming mug, and I blew on its rich smelling contents before taking a careful sip. Mother would stare at me a bit with her deep blue eyes, as 'deep as the sky', as my father would say. It seemed as if they stared right past me, through my flesh and into my very core. I would behave and act the good girl, simply to avoid that stare.

"Tell me about the dream, Raven, dear."

I would begin to bide my time for a few moments, pretending to drink when in truth, the warm concoction still burned my tongue. I blinked my eyes rapidly several times, trying to muster up the right words to explain.

"I was… walking on a path. It was dark… and there were trees everywhere. And then things would change… colorful mushrooms that were taller than me, talking flowers… and a curious white rabbit… wearing a waistcoat… he held a pocket watch and told me that I was late."

My mother continued to gaze at me, her large, sapphire eyes fixed directly on my own. I took another sip of the melted chocolate and continued.

"I followed him for a very long time, this way and that. Finally, we came to a table… a very long table. Strewn across it were various tea pots, cups, and odd looking pastries…"

"Well, now, that doesn't sound like a nightmare at all!"

My child hands began to tremble as I recalled the rest of my nightmare. Gently, I'd place my cup upon the coffee table and continue.

"There was a peculiar man sitting at the head of the table, with bright orange hair, a top hat, and eyes… eyes as- as green as-"

"As the first day of spring?"

I glanced up, taken aback to hear my mother snatch the words right from my mouth.

"… Yes. Yes, I suppose…"

Mother sighed, brushing back the champagne locks from her shoulders. "Dearie, pardon your mother for saying so, but it seems to me that your dream is as far away from being a nightmare as it possibly could be."

At this point, a tear escaped from my eye, caressing my cheek before it dripped from my chin. "But then… then everyone disappears. The man with the top hat, the white rabbit, the dormouse, the smiling cat, the table and the tea… all of it evaporates into thin air. I am alone then… surrounded by a ring of fire. There is a voice… inside of my head, telling me… telling me that I am doomed. That there will be no use fighting it… that my destiny has already been decided."

Mothers eyes were wide, wide with shock or fear, I could not tell. She did not speak for quite some time, and neither did I. Finally, she tried to drink from her cup, a piece of the china set my Grandmother Elizabeth gave her for Christmas last year. But it seemed as if the cocoa had already gone chill.

"Mother?"

My call appeared to snap out of her reverie, and she glanced at me, the corners of her sweet mouth turned down slightly.

"Yes, Raven, dear?"

I gulped loudly, dreading the answer to the question I was about to ask.

"Have I gone mad?"

Her lips parted before spreading into a charming smile. She leaned forward, placing her pleasantly warm hand upon my forehead. I waited for her response.

"I am afraid so, darling. You're bonkers, entirely off your rocker."

Her words frightened me to no end. Was she right? Had I gone around the bend? Would those men in the clean white coats come to collect me and lock me up in Bedlam with the rest of those people who were as mad as hatters?

Mother removed her soft hand from my forehead, smiling still. She then took both of my hands in hers and squeezed sympathetically.

"But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are."