It was that rabbit hole. That same, exact rabbit hole that her great-grandmother had gone through. And her Lacie was, falling down it. Granted, it was just as slow as she had heard from the stories, but honestly, how could she be so stupid?

It had all started about three days before, when her parents' divorce was finalized. Then two days ago, her boyfriend dumped her. And yesterday, her cat had been hit by a car. Needless to say, it had been a bad week.

So, naturally, she went down by the river and climbed the only tree in the meadow. Her cat, Leonard, had loved to curl up on her stomach while she sketched the flowers around her. But this time, with no Leonard to nap on her stomach and her sketchbook having been torn to shreds in a fit of anger three days ago, Lacie deemed it a good place to have a good cry.

When she first noticed the rabbit, she thought it was her vision being blurred by her tears. Of course, there were rabbits all around this area by the river, but this one was different. It was pure white, with pink eyes and a twitchy pink nose, and it also had an elaborate waistcoat with an oddly large pocketwatch. Also, it was screaming its head off on how it was going to be late.

Yes, this rabbit was different.

Lacie, curious, climbed down from her perch in the tree, softly, so as not to frighten it more than it already was, and followed it. She had to know what a rabbit could possibly be late for. It hopped through the daisies and suddenly disappeared. Lacie let out a cry of surprise, then ran to where the rabbit had disappeared. Then she herself had disappeared…and fell right through the rabbit hole.

So here she was, gently floating down. The initial terror had worn off and had been replaced with apathetic boredom. The slow fall left her with plenty of time to think over the aforementioned events.

Now that she thought of it, Geoff hadn't been that great of a boyfriend. He had only been tall, blond, handsome, strong, and charming. He had only had the most gorgeous sea blue eyes. He had only broken her heart after being her first steady boyfriend.

This wasn't helping, so she began thinking of her parents. She supposed the divorce would make them happier. No more fighting, just a broken up home. No more of her mother's tears, just no mother at all as she worked two jobs to maintain custody. No more of her father's shouting, just no father at all as he moved to France.

This also didn't help. She thought of Leonard. He had been a cute little white cat, with large, curious green eyes. He had one of the loudest purrs Lacie had ever heard from a cat, and he always came and curled up on her stomach as she read a book or sketched. But now he was buried in her backyard, and Lacie would never hear his purr again.

Lacie shook her head. This definitely wasn't helping. She looked around and noticed her reflection in a mirror that was floating next to her. Well, if anything, she still looked the same. The same fair, heart-shaped face with the oval forehead and pointy chin. The same light brown hair in a bob cut. The same grey-green eyes with eyeliner surrounding them. Yes, she looked the same. The mirror suddenly stopped, but Lacie kept falling. She huffed, suddenly realizing that the situation was hopeless.

"They won't be able to find me," Lacie said, more frustrated than sad. "I'll just die down here, won't I? Simply superb, dying in a rabbit hole." She sighed. "They won't even think of looking here. What would the headlines say? 'Loony teenage girl gone missing, presumably down a rabbit hole.' Oh, right. Simply marvelous…"

As soon as she said this, she fell to the ground with a surprisingly hard thump.

"Oww!" she yelped, then got to her feet and looked around. "Well, this is certainly the oddest rabbit hole I've ever seen."

"Oh, my ears and whiskers!! I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!" The rabbit she had seen earlier came barreling down the hall on two legs, which was quite a feat for a rabbit.

"Oi!" Lacie cried. "Wait up!"

The rabbit paid her no heed. Lacie huffed and blew a strand of brown hair out of her eyes.

"Damn rabbit…" She closed her eyes and thought back to the stories her mother had told her, passed down through three generations. This rabbit was no doubt the White Rabbit, and, in the stories, her great-grandmother had called out to it, but to no avail. It just kept running. Lacie opened her eyes and pushed her hair out of her eyes, then ran down the hall, as fast as she could.

And she tackled the Rabbit to the ground.

It wasn't polite, true, but Lacie wanted answers, and the White Rabbit would probably be the one to give them to her…maybe. He squeaked from under her.

"Please, let me go! The Queen shall have my head if I don't hurry!" the Rabbit cried in desperation.

"Will you give me answers first?" Lacie asked.

"Yes, please let me go! I'm late, I'm late, I'm…"

"I get it!" Lacie snapped. The sighed. She wouldn't get anywhere being impolite. "Hi. I'm Lacie."

"I've no time for introductions! I need to…" The Rabbit looked up at her, finally seeing her face. Then he did something rather odd.

He screamed bloody murder.

Odd. Needless to say, Lacie was alarmed and quickly asked, "What?! What is it?!"

"Oh, no, no, no! The Queen shall make me into Rabbit stew!!" The Rabbit pushed himself away from her, and bolted down the hall, screaming, "I'm late! I'm late! I'm late! Ohh…I'm late…and the Alice is back!!"

Lacie stared after the odd White Rabbit as he ran down the hall. Not quite knowing what to do, she called after him, "I said my name's Lacie!"

Halls. Halls and halls and halls and halls.

Apparently, that's all Wonderland was. Nothing but halls and locked doors. Lacie was getting worried about what was going to happen to her. She saw one of two things in her future: 1) A psychotic killer bursting through one of the doors and killing her in a mess of blood and B-movie drama, or 2) she would die of starvation, tragically, while wandering these endless halls. Personally, she would prefer the second one. That sounded more like an Oscar-consideration-movie ending.

Lacie shook her head. This was absolute nonsense. She had to keep her wits about her here, or else she would totally lose it and end up like Alice did. Lacie's mother said that her great-grandmother had never been all there.

Lacie stopped as she noticed a little door in front of her. It was only about one foot by one foot, but it was a pretty little thing. All ebony and roses. She looked over and saw a table beside her, with a glass top. On top of that was a little bottle that said "Drink Me" in a pretty, elegant script. Lacie snorted.

"No, thank you," she said to no one in particular. "It'll make me shrink."

She looked around the room for another door. None were in sight. Lacie huffed in frustration. She knew not to cry, or else there'd be a lake. That was bad, and she wanted to get out of here relatively dry.

She sighed. There seem to be no other option than to drink the bottle. She turned to take it, and discovered a small silver key where the bottle had been. That was surprising, but definitely not unwelcome. She took it and knelt in front of the little door.

She slid the key in and turned. Oddly, the lock stuck, and she had to work to unlock it. She hadn't expected that, given how new the door and key looked. Finally, the lock clicked, showing it was unlocked, and Lacie turned the handle. This, too, stuck, and Lacie had to pull hard to open it. To her surprise, not only did the little door open, but so did a good six-by-four feet of the wall with the door.

Lacie stared in wonder at what was on the other side of the door. A beautiful garden, with waist-high flowers, made up the beautiful scenery. Lacie smiled.

Maybe she could stay in Wonderland for a little while.

She walked into the garden, looking around with wide eyes. Everything was so beautiful…it seemed almost too good to be true. She knelt by a rose and cautiously smelled it. It didn't smell like a rose at all, but more like Geoff's cologne. She half-expected her heart to ache with longing, but it didn't. She was too caught up in everything here.

She was snapped out of her daze by a nip at her ankles. She looked down and saw a small, green, pig-like thing biting at her shoes.

"Oi! Lay off!" she cried, kicking at it. It flew back and hit a large vine. Instantly, Lacie felt sorry. She didn't mean to hurt it.

"By Jove! You've got quite a kick there!"

Lacie turned around and saw an odd bird with a large head and beak, yet a scrawny body. She had seen this kind of bird in her science books, a Dodo bird, but…weren't they extinct? And weren't they only about a foot and a half, not six feet tall?

The Dodo laughed. "My dear girl, you've just launched a momerath a good six feet! That's quite an accomplishment!"

"Uh-huh…" Lacie was a bit wary of the Dodo. He seemed a tad too friendly for her liking.

The Dodo looked at her, his eyes very wide and blinking. He gasped. "Why, you're Alice! I should have known!"

"Um…no…I'm not," Lacie said, getting quite scared.

"Don't you remember me? We met when you first got to Wonderland!" The Dodo chortled. "You've grown since then, that's obvious. The Queen wants very badly to see you, you know."

"The…Queen?" Lacie said weakly, utterly confused. The Dodo put a wing around her shoulders in a friendly sort of way.

"Yes, yes, my girl! Come, let's go see her."

"Uh…I'd rather not…" She tried to walk away, but the Dodo, for having such scrawny arms, was surprisingly strong.

"Nonsense! We can't keep the Queen waiting!" Lacie noticed a trace of urgency in his voice, and it scared her even more.

"N-no!" Lacie cried, then kicked the Dodo as hard as she could. He squawked in surprise, and Lacie bolted away, out of the garden, into a dark, dead-looking forest. She looked back, to see if the Dodo had followed her, but no one was there. She sank to the ground and took several deep breaths to calm herself down. That's when she began hearing the whispers around her.

"Alice…she's back!"

"She must see the Queen…"

"The Queen wants to see her."

"We must find her…"

Lacie let out a cry and ran further into the forest, tears of terror filling her eyes. She knew about the Queen, how she lopped off everyone's heads. If she wanted to see Lacie, then that was not good.

Suddenly, Lacie tripped over a branch and fell flat on her face. The whispers grew louder.

"Alice…she needs to see the Queen…"

"Alice…"

"Alice…"

"Alice…"

"STOP!" Lacie screamed, getting up to her knees. Instantly, the voices were gone. That was good, but now, Lacie was lost. She had run off the path in her fright, and was now stranded in the middle of this dark forest. Lacie whimpered, hugging her arms around herself.

"If you're in need of a guide, you'll need one mad enough to side with you."

Lacie looked up, afraid. Her voice hoarse, she whispered, "Wh-who's there?"

"The question isn't who's there, it's who's here," came the voice. A thin, black and grey tabby jumped down to a nearby branch. Lacie jumped. The cat had an odd glint to its eyes, but what really caught her off-guard was the cat's huge, pointy grin. It looked slightly devious, to put it lightly.

"Was it you who talked?" Lacie asked. The cat tilted its head, still grinning. She had never seen a cat smile before, and it was quite unsettling.

"Was it I? It might have been, it might not have been," the cat said. "Cheshire Cats have been known to speak as well as grin."

"Oh, you're the Cheshire Cat!" Lacie cried. The Cheshire Cat grinned more broadly.

"And you're an Alice," he said. Lacie cocked her head.

"An Alice? No…I'm Lacie," she said, confused.

"One and the same," the Cat said, jumping to another branch. "Both of you are and were Alices, and both of you are and were mad."

"Mad?!" Lacie was insulted. The Cat's grin didn't waver.

"Of course you're mad. You wouldn't be here otherwise. If I weren't mad, I wouldn't be here, either." The Cat arched backward and licked his back. "Lucky for me, all cats are mad."

"Is that why you run around the room chasing nothing at all?" Lacie asked. The Cat looked back at her, grinning approvingly.

"You catch on quick," he said. "But no doubt you've got questions."

"How would you know?" Lacie asked.

"Madmen see things the sane never do," the Cat stated, as if quoting an old mantra, and perhaps it was, but that didn't help Lacie.

"Well, then maybe you can answer them," she said. The Cat let out a laugh.

"Oh, no, not I! The mad see things they cannot say," he said.

Lacie frowned. This Cat was starting to piss her off. "Then how am I supposed to learn anything around here?!"

The Cat sent her a smile that was slightly insane, as if he knew a dark secret that no one else could know. "Well, if you want any answers, you might want to start with the Hatter. He's quite the know-it-all in these parts."

"Wait, what do you…?" Lacie trailed off as the Cheshire Cat suddenly disappeared, though his grin remained.

"The Hatter. Look around, you're bound to find someone of the name," the grin said, then faded away. Lacie huffed.

"Hatter? How am I supposed to know where the Hatter is?" she said impatiently, turning on her heel and storming away. "Ow!"

In her annoyance, Lacie had walked right into a pole of some sort. She rubbed her head and looked at it. Her eyebrows rose as she read the arrow pointing to the left.

"Ohh…right. The Mad Hatter. The one who had tea with rabbits and mice," she murmured to herself. "Well, better him than that psychotic Cat."

She walked down the road, following where the arrow had pointed her, until she reached a small little cottage. She frowned as she walked through the gate.

"I thought there was a table set for teatime," she said quietly.

"That's the March Hare's house. And most people find it rude when one walks in without invitation."

Lacie jumped and turned around. Sitting on a small wall was a young man, maybe about eighteen or so, with a large black top hat with a scarlet ribbon around it atop his head. His clothing—a red frockcoat over a grey vest and a white button-down, a pair of black slacks with faint silver pinstripes, a black ascot, and a golden pocketwatch and chain—was very old-fashioned; Victorian, Lacie guessed. He studied her with dark eyes, then took a sip from the teacup in his hand.

But…this couldn't be the Mad Hatter. From her great-grandmother's sketches, the Mad Hatter had been a short, older man, with rather wild, curly white hair. But, as stated earlier, this man was quite young, rather tall and slender, and had deep red, almost black, hair, which was rather thick and a bit long. The only similarities between this Mad Hatter and the Mad Hatter from the sketches were the freckles sprinkled across their nose and cheeks, and even then the sketch-Mad Hatter's were more erratic than this Mad Hatter's. He looked up at her again and raised his dark eyebrows.

"Well, Alice? Are you going to say something, or are you waiting to have a fly to go with your tea?" he asked.

"I…I'm not Alice. I'm Lacie," Lacie stuttered. The Mad Hatter rolled his eyes.

"You can change the hair, you can change the age, and you can change the spelling, but you can never change an Alice," he said, carefully balancing his saucer and teacup on his knee.

"How…how would you even know I'm an Alice?" Lacie asked.

"Well, you've got that curiosity in the eyes. That always gives away when you're an Alice. Secondly, you knew that there was a tea party. Thirdly, your clothes tell me you're from the W.A.G…"

"W.A.G?"

"The World Above Ground. Finally, the Cat told me," the Mad Hatter said with a lopsided grin.

"Let me guess, you knew my great-grandmother," she said. "She was the real Alice."

"Yeah, I've heard of her."

"Heard of her? She was at your tea party!"

"Oh, no, not my tea party."

"What?! But you're the Mad Hatter!"

The Mad Hatter scowled. "You're a rude girl, aren't you? Some people actually find it offending when you call them mad."

Lacie put her hands on her hips. "Well, whatever you'd like to be called, weren't you at the tea party with the March Hare and the Dormouse?"

"Oh, no, not me. I was still an apprentice, then. That was the original Hatter. Speaking of which, I'm just the Hatter. I'm not mad at all, well, not more than anyone else here."

"What happened to him? The first Hatter, I mean."

"Queen got to him." The Hatter raked his thumb across his neck, then pulled down his hat over his head, making the illusion of him having lost his head. "Off went his head, hat and all. Then the March Hare, and the Dormouse…that bloke was lucky, slept through the whole thing…the other two weren't as fortunate…"

"That…that's awful…" Lacie gasped. "Why'd she do that to all of them?"

The Hatter pulled up his hat again, looking at Lacie with wide eyes. "Not just them…the Duchess, her cook, the Gryphon, the Mock-Turtle, all of them…"

"Why?!" Lacie cried.

"Well…the Queen's gone rather loony since your grand-mama left Wonderland. Her prisoner's gone with a verdict but no sentence. That's never happened before. So she's trying to get her back by killing off everyone who's come in contact with Alice…"

"But…but Alice is dead! She died twenty-five years ago!" Lacie was shaking; none of the stories she had heard had prepared her for this.

"The Queen doesn't know that. And she'll do whatever she can to see that sentence through."

Lacie swallowed. "Then how did you get out of getting your head chopped off?" she asked meekly. The Hatter shrugged.

"Well, I never met Alice. That, and the Queen needs hats to be made for her and the rest of Wonderland, and I'm the only one who can do that," he said, then drained his teacup. He got down from his perch on the wall and started walking toward the house. Lacie followed him.

"Hatter! Wait!"

"What is it?" The Hatter turned around impatiently. Lacie stared at him incredulously.

"You tell me how Wonderland's become the site of a massacre, and then you just go inside and leave me out here?" she asked shrilly. The Hatter sighed.

"Would you like to come in?" he asked snidely, bowing with mock-politeness. Lacie frowned.

"Well, no need to be snippy," she sniffed. The Hatter rolled his eyes again and went inside. He stopped when he noticed that Lacie wasn't following.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" he asked sharply.

"You were serious?" Lacie asked.

"I won't be in a moment!"

"Okay, fine!" Lacie hurried in, and the Hatter closed the door behind her. He walked to the kitchen, with Lacie following behind.

"Don't trail me like a puppy dog, girl," he snapped, placing his teacup and saucer in the sink. "Go sit at the table."

Lacie scowled as she obeyed. "Even the Mad Hatter was more polite than you, Hatter."

"Yeah? Well, he didn't live in the Wonderland I'm in, all thanks to your grand-mama…"

"Don't blame her!" Lacie cried defiantly. The Hatter glared at her, then slammed a cup and saucer in front of her.

"I'd suggest you'd start holding your tongue, or else I might throw you out and let a Bandersnatch catch you," he said, his voice low and threatening. He shook his head and went back to the stove. "An Alice if I ever saw one…"

Lacie stared down at the cup, biting her lip in annoyance. Still, if what the Hatter was saying was really true, then it would seem that she needed a safe place to be, and this seemed to be the only one. She looked up as the Hatter poured tea into her cup.

"Sugar? Cream?" he asked, evidently trying to be polite. Lacie swallowed.

"It'll make me mad…" she said softly. The Hatter huffed.

"It won't make you mad," he said sharply, then closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. "It'll help you see things clearer around here."

"The Mad Hatter and March Hare never gave Alice a chance to drink any of it," she peeped.

"She didn't need it. But if you don't want to drink it, then fine." The Hatter whisked her tea away.

"Now, now, Hatter, no need to be snappish."

Lacie stared in surprise as the Cheshire Cat slowly appeared, grin first, in the seat across from her. It looked at her, still grinning. A chill went down Lacie's spine.

"I see you found the Hatter, Alice," he said.

"I…I'm not Alice," she said.

"Like I said, you're an Alice, through and through," the Hatter said, his back to her and the Cat. "You're rude, talkative, interrupting…"

"Will you stop?!" Lacie cried. The Hatter whirled around, glaring at her. Lacie met his glare with equal ferocity.

The Cat, meanwhile, was licking his paw, still grinning. "An Alice with a hot head and a Hatter with a sharp tongue. With a Cat with an unhinged mind, we make quite the mad tea party."

The Hatter snapped his gaze from Lacie and looked at the Cat. "Quiet, Cat. You're lucky I don't turn you over to the Queen."

The Cat chuckled. "When one's mind isn't completely there…" he said, then slowly began to disappear again. "You'll find that the rest of him isn't here, either."

In a moment, the Cat, grin and all, had completely disappeared. The Hatter shook his head and went back to the stove.

"Damn Cheshire Cat…" he murmured, opening a cupboard. He pulled out all sorts of different foods: bread, butter, marmalade, an assortment of small cakes, and cookies. He placed them all on the table. "Here. Eat something. No, the cakes won't make you grow, and neither will anything else."

Lacie sighed. She really didn't want to take anything from the Hatter, but her stomach growled loudly in protest. Sullenly, she took a piece of bread and spread butter on it. After taking a bite and swallowing, she quietly said, "Thank you, Hatter."

"Well, you've got manners enough not to talk with your mouth full," the Hatter said, sitting down across from her. Lacie took it as somewhat of a compliment.

"So…how did you meet the Cheshire Cat?" she asked.

The Hatter, who had poured himself another cup of tea and was stirring in some sugar, looked up. "All of Wonderland knows the Cheshire Cat." He took a drink. "He seems to like me, so I let him come and go as he pleases. Of course, even if I didn't like him, he'd still come and go as he pleases." He traced the rim of his cup. "The Queen's looking for him. He's her main target at the moment. But he always slips away. It's quite remarkable, actually." His dark eyes flicked up to her. "So, what do you plan to do?"

Lacie, who had finished her bread and butter and was about to bite into one of the cakes, looked up in surprise. "Me? What do you mean, Hatter?"

The Hatter shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? The Queen wants Alice's head. You're Alice, or close enough, anyway."

"I am not!"

The Hatter rolled his eyes. "What was your great-grandmother's name?"

"Alice."

"Her daughter?"

"Allison."

"And her daughter?"

"Alicia."

"And you?"

"Lacie."

"Rearrange the letters." The Hatter cleared away a space on the table and poured sugar all over it. Carefully dipping a thin finger into his tea, he spelled out "ALICE" in the sugar, then, under that, wrote, "LAICE", and, under that, "LACIE". "Is that how you spell your name?"

"Y-yes…" Lacie said.

"See? It's Alice anagrammed. You, girl, are an Alice."

Lacie paled. "So…that means…"

"The Queen will be after you in a heartbeat," the Hatter said. "Good luck."

"Hatter, you must help me!" Lacie begged. The Hatter frowned.

"Give me one good reason."

"Well, killing two birds with one stone only works if the stone cooperates."

Both the Hatter and Lacie turned to the stove. The Cat was sitting upon it, grinning at the both of them.

"Beg pardon?" Lacie asked. The Cat slunk over to where they were sitting.

"Personally, I'd use a cat. We can be reliable when we want to be," the Cat said. The Hatter stared at him in disbelief.

"You think we'd be able to overtake the Queen?" he asked.

"How did you understand that?" Lacie asked.

"I've known him a lot longer than you, Alice."

"It's Lacie!"

"Nonetheless…" The Hatter leaned forward, his fingers pressed against his mouth thoughtfully. "What are you saying, Cat?"

The Cat stretched. "We're all mad here, you, me, and our Alice. But what matters is who's the most mad, and who's the least mad."

"So what are we?" Lacie asked. The Cat's grin seemed to widen.

"That, our Alice, is for us to soon find out."