PLEASE REVIEW!
Disclaimer: My story is in nearly every way different than Louis Caroll's classic. If characters are copied, it is only to help better each reader's enjoyment.
Chapter One
The rain streaking across the car window did nothing to improve my mood. I was tired, and after traveling for three days with nothing decent to eat, my already strained nerves were on overdrive. I drifted into unconsciousness, and memories of before crowded my thoughts, a blur of lines and color that stifled any hope of clear judgment.
I was back in the hospital. I was leaning close to my mom, holding her hand for the last time.
"The cancer has spread," I told her, "The doctors can't fix it this time."
I could see her wince, and squeeze her eyes shut. She looked so fragile there, and worn. Nothing like her old self, happy and full of life. She was the one who taught me to be who I was, showed me life through an artist's eyes. I wanted to be just like her.
"Camilla," she said softly, lightly squeezing my hand, "I want you to know, that you are the most important person in my life. And when I'm gone, I want you to remember who you are, and where you've come from."
She held her hand out to me, and then opened it. A locket lay quietly there in her outstretched palm. I took it and examined it with wonder. I was small, and oval in shape, with engravings of odd animals dressed in old fashioned clothing. There was a large queen of hearts on the front, her beautiful face looking up with inquisitive eyes. When I opened the locket, I found pictures of two men inside, both startlingly handsome, one with blonde hair and laughing eyes, the other dark with a brooding scowl. They were both dressed in old fashioned clothes.
"Who are they?" I asked, looking back at my mother. When she didn't answer, I tried to wake her. But she was already gone.
Then another flashback, this time in the attic of our little house in Seattle. My mom and I were going through boxes for a yard sale. I was looking for the container with all of my old toys in it, so that I could save the few special ones that I had had forever. As I looked, I found a wooden box, carved with swirls and flowers. It wasn't very big, about the size of a loaf of bread. I tried to open it, but it was completely sealed.
"What are you doing?" my mom shouted, grabbing the box. "You can't have this, it's private!" And with that, she stormed out of the room, with the box under her arm. I never saw it again.
A sudden bump in the car jostled me awake. I groaned. "Are we nearly there?" I asked the driver, a tall thin man who had picked me up at the airport. He had introduced himself as Collin.
"Yes, we have only forty minutes to go." Perfect. I looked down at my mother's box, now sitting on my lap. Turning it upside down, I noticed two oval-shaped depressions in the bottom, surrounded by a circle. I fingered the locket around my neck.
Then, I had it all figured out. I took the locket off of my neck and opened it. Placing it in the two holes, I began turning. The entire bottom of the box came off, and a jumble of letters fell into my hands.
Oddly enough, they were all from two men named Gram Calverly, and Gerard Christophe. That I knew because their names were in scripted on the inside lid of the box. Could these men be the ones in the photos? Checking the dates written on all of the letters, I started with reading the oldest.
Dearest Alice,
It seems like weeks since I have seen you, though you only left yesterday. The rooms in this house are haunted with your smile, and it makes me ache to know how long you will be gone. I wish I could send myself to you along with this letter, but I don't know where you've gone. Why won't you tell me? And why must I keep these letters a secret, only reaching you through the looking-glass?
Oh, Alice, if only you were here, if only I could see your face once more.
G.C.
I looked over the letter, at the beautiful letters and words. At the bottom of the letter was a drawing of a rose, perfect and complete, save but one petal, which I noticed was on the back of the envelope. Whoever G.C. was, they were an amazing artist. Wait, who was G.C.? Both men had the same initials, and there wasn't a name on the front of the letter, other than an embellished Alice.
I found the second letter and opened it.
Alice,
If you ever want to see your love again, you will come with me. My men are watching his and your every move. If you wish to leave through the looking-glass, you must do everything I say. Meet me at the train station, 6:00. Don't be late.
Forgive me,
G.C.
The script from this letter was hurried, and uneven. I was surprised at how much more contrasting the words were from the first letter.
"What's that, Miss?" I heard Collin ask.
"Er, I'm not sure," I said, stuffing the letters back into the box and locking it. I would read more of the letters later, and in private. I didn't want Collins snitching to anyone, especially since my grandmother had other servant that would be just as easily interested as I was. And I didn't want my mother's box to be stolen.
As the car ride continued, my eyes drooped, and I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Hope that you all have enjoyed the story so far! Thanks for reading.
P.S.- Reviews equal Encouragement, and Encouragement equals MORE CHAPTERS!
