I did not realize, when I first started to write this, how sad and tragic this story would become. It almost brings me to tears. So I was not sure if I was going to put it up or not. But, however, I hope you can enjoy at least my writing if not the story; which is very tragic indeed. Not too unexpected really, it IS about a girl getting raped and murdered by a sick, evil man.

You had just fallen asleep when you heard a noise outside the door.

Is it Alice?, you thought.

Alice ought to come into your room when she couldn't sleep. You would let her sleep next to you in your bed even though your parents didn't like it.

"She has a bed to sleep in, already", they used to say. "So she better use it."

Alice was the best little sister in the world. She was funny, and very smart. And she had so much fantasy! Somtimes she could lie for hours in your bed, telling you about her fantasy-land she had dreamed up herself. Wonderland, she called it. You never interrupted her when she talked, you knew that she hated that. And you didn't need to, it was fascinating enough just to hear her talk. It was so real to her! You loved that. You had had something similar when you were in that age. But your mother and father had been worried.

"Don't ever speak of that out loud! Don't tell anyone, you understand?", they'd told you.

And you'd stopped, fearing that your parents might send you to the asylum. You'd heard stories about parents who did that to their children if they were too... Unnormal. So, you stopped visiting your own Wonderland when you were eight years old, of fear that someone might corrupt it. Corrupt you.

You knew your parents were good people, they had always been very nice to both you and Alice. They just did not want you to get the reputation as a mad woman. Once you get that reputation, it never fades away. They had done it for a good reason. But still, you wished that you hadn't abandoned that dream, that fantasy. It had been so wonderful to have somwhere to go when the other children were teasing. So even though Alice was on her way to grow up, you never told her to stop talking or that Wonderland was dangerous to her. You told her that her Wonderland was something she needed to keep in her heart, no matter what, or else she would forget it when she grew up. Alice always nodded and said with her little girl-voice;
"Yes, Lizzie! I promise I won't forget Wonderland!"

She never said my Wonderland, or my world. She just simply said Wonderland, as if it really was a real land. You liked that.

The door handle was pulled down and now you knew that it wasn't Alice that was outside. Alice always knocked on the door three times, then whispered,

"Lizzie? Are you asleep?"

And you would answer, "No" or "Not anymore."

And she would say "Can I come in?" and when you'd told her that she could enter, then she pulled down the door handle.

"Who's there?", you asked quitely.

You knew your parents were asleep, so it could not be them.

The door opened and you could recognize a shadow that was very similar too...

"Angus Bumby!", you exclaimed and sat straight up, but tried to keep yourself quiet; you did not want to wake Alice.

A thought went through your head, that it might be best if Alice woke up, or if someone woke up, because there were not many good people that turned up uninvited in your house at night. Coming to think about it, you had never heard of any good people who had done that before. But, not surprisingly, Bumby was not a good person.

"It's Dr. Bumby, or at least Mr. Bumby, or maybe even Sir, could you get that into your beautiful little head, Miss Elizabeth?", Bumby said, almost angry.

"Doctor Bumby indeed!", you spat. "You're not a doctor! You're just a liar and a whore-seller! A whore-seller for little children! Maybe not even that. Disgusting creature! What are you doing in my house?"

"I'm here to get what I want", Bumby replied, dangerously.

Oh, no! He's here to get Alice!, you thought.

"Don't you dare so much as waking Alice up", you warned. "Leave her alone, or you'll regret it, you vicios creep!"

"Alice?", he asked, seeming honestly confused. "Who's-"

Then he started to laugh. You crossed your arms over your chest, waited for an explanation.

"You mean that little lunatic? She's your... Sister, is that right?"

You just looked at him with hate. You would never answer to such a question, if that could give Alice any trouble. And, in this case, it certainly could.

"Well, however", Bumby continued when he realized that you wouldn't answer and closed the door behind him, "the REAL reason to why I am here is much more... worth than a mad little child."

"She's not mad", you snap. "She's the smartest kid I have ever met. If anyone is mad here, then it is you!"

Bumby laughed a little, more softly this time. Locked the door behind him.

"I'm having a hard time to believe that, Lizzie", he said.

You gritted your teeth.

"Don't call me Lizzie", you growled, and tried to back away from him as he came closer. Only people you liked were allowed to call you Lizzie. And you certainly did not like Angus Bumby. Not a bit.

"Elizabeth", he said, suddenly serious. "You know you are everything I have ever looked for in a woman."

You said a rude word. "And you know that I would rather die than being with you!", you replied.

"As you wish", Bumby replied, and your eyes opened wide. "But first", he added. "if you're not willing to give me what I want, I will have to take it from you myself."

"You sick, twisted creature! Don't you think my parents will notice? Such evil never slips unnoticed! You will hang before you know it!", you spat.

"They will never get the opportunity to notice", Angus Bumby replied, "because right after you've died, a tragic fire will start. No one will survive. No one will notice."

"You brute!", you exclaimed. "You can't do that! You just can't do that!"

You were very close to punch the evil man with your fists now, but you couldn't move; your body was paralyzed. So there you sat, in your bed, roaring at an evil man and soon-to-be murderer.

"Oh, I think I can, Elizabeth", was his reply.

You felt tears in your eyes.

The thought of getting raped was indeed terrible, and you did certainly not want to die, but... The thought of your family dying because of you. The thought of that you would never be able to see Alice grow up.

Alice in her bed, sleeping, when suddenly the fire closes up around her. She tries to scream, but her lungs gets filled with smoke. She tries to run away but falls, faints on the floor. And then...

Tears running down your face.

No.

No.

No.

Not Alice.

"Don't worry, Lizzie", Bumby said and got even closer. "They'll die calmly in their sleep. They will feel no pain."

You opened your mouth to scream, but Bumby put his hands over your mouth.

Pain.

And then darkness.