Author's Note - Hope you enjoy this read!

Disclaimer - I do not own Alice in wonderland in any way at all, not the books, the movies, T.V. shows or the games.

But I do own this story.

There's not much I'm willing to say about my life. Just the basics and the predicament I'm in right now. My name is Martha Hawthorn, I am 17 years old, I have long black hair that I like to dye with streaks of deep red, and my eyes are a deep blue color with specks of green.

I moved from the city of New York to my Aunt's house, and her half acre homestead. Not willingly though. My mother paid some people to shove me into a van with all my stuff and drive here. When I was finally able to get to a phone and call the house demanding to be told why this was happening, I was told that the house was sold to someone else and the family that used to live there moved. When I asked the person who was talking to me if they had left a forwarding address the person said nothing was left behind.

At that point I was fumeing. My mother forced me to come here and she completely rips the two people most important in my life away from me. Why? 'Cause she detested me, and wanted nothing to do with me. Ever since I was young she never wanted people to associate me with her or any of her other children. She especially isolated herself after a certain incident. I knew it was just a matter of time until she found someone to dump me onto, she just had to pay them enough to tolerate me.

Now I'm lying in bed staring at the sky through the windows on the roof of my Aunt's house. Not thinking of anything except how my angels were doing. Were they doing okay? Were they hurt? Did they miss me?

Knock. Knock.

I get up and climb down the ladder from the cot area, and open the door. My Aunt, who I didn't even know existed until a few days ago, was standing there wearing dirty overalls over a blue short sleeved shirt, with four buckets in her hands.

"What?" I ask in an annoyed tone

She put down two of the buckets and reached into the other ones she was holding produceing dusty clothing from them.

"Your work clothes put them on and meet me out in the field."

I opened my mouth to say something.

"And I don't want any of your bullshit!"

But quickly shut it.

"I better see you in that field in ten minutes or you're going without lunch today."

She grabbed the buckets and walked away, so I closed the door. I threw the clothes she had given to me on the chair in front of a desk and climbed back up to bed.

I wasn't working on her homefarm. Why would I need to? If it was because I was here now and I would be eating the produce her animals made, she could just go out and buy some with the money my mother gave her when her supplies got low.

Plus I wasn't exactly in the wonderous mood to help anyone right now. All I wanted to do was sleep. I had been up all night screaming, and cussing into a pillow, angry at my mother for doing this to me. And now that my throat was sore, my headache was back, and my eyes were threatening to shut at any moment, I ploped onto the large king size bed and closed my eyes. Sleep took over instantly.

My eyes opened up and I could tell it was nighttime by the full moon shoving its light through the windows. Groaning I get up feeling pains in my stomach. This is how I woke up most of the time. I go down the ladder, through the door and walk into the kitchen. Turning on the light, I instantly head for the refrigerator but when I pull on the handle it dosn't budge. I pull on it again harder and it still dosn't budge. That was when I saw an electronic keyboard next to the handle. I guess you need a code to get into the frig.

I growl in anger and start to walk around the room opening the cupboards looking for anything to eat. But as I open each one there was NOTHING THERE! Not even a damb crumb.

I look around again and see a folded piece of paper on the table. I pick it up and open it.

Martha,

I am dissapointed that you did not come out and help me, but slept the whole day away.

I understand what you are going through, but you must not let it control your life.

If you want something to eat you will have to go out into the field and get the food yourself.

Aunt Samantha

I was even more pissed off as I crumpled up the letter and threw it at an empty bin. I hated those type of people who "understood what you're going through." When in truth all they wanted you to do was to stop being selfish and go back to your normal routine, as if nothing happened.

So I had to go and get something from her damn farm to eat. What animals did she even have? Damnit.

I look trhrough the drawers and pull out a flashlight, then turning it on, I head out the sliding glass door. I look around and see these plastic tents close to the house. I open them up and I see plants growing in a square box, with a type of grid on it, but they were just sprouts, nothing that looked familiar to me.

I go past the garden and the light of the flashlight hits a wooden structure. I decided to go near it and when I did my light disturbed whatever animal was inside making it move around and make a bawking sound.

Chickens.

Eggs.

I look into the structure and I can see brown eggs lying in the hay. I look around the structure and I see a few latches. I open the latches and pull down the screen door. And when I do a blasted bird jumped onto my face scratching me with its claws.

I push it back into the pen, grab some eggs and shut the screen, the damn bird still trying to get at me through it.

"Damn bird! Rot in hell!" I yelled at the squawking wretch

I feel warmth trickle down my cheeks. I didn't have to swipe my face to know what it was. I've felt it many time before.

I make it back into the kitchen and finally make a pan of scrambled eggs.

Putting the dirty dishes in the sink I click the kitchen light off and head for my bedroom. Underneath the bed platform is a bathroom, so I head there to get some alcohol swabs so I can clean my cheeks.

After stinging myself I look in the mirror and see scratches galore on my cheeks. They weren't bleeding anymore so I didn't put bandaids on them, leaveing my cheeks to look like I failed horribly, to draw on thin whiskers.

Once again I climb the ladder and lay in bed,falling asleep the instant my head hit the pillow.

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