Down, Down, Down

Can't you see the faces melting
As the sun fades from their eyes?
Oh, are you gonna keep your head
With the hearts that you hang behind?
Look at yourself
Look in the mirror
Don't see you see a line
That you tell yourself again a thousand times?
And the truth that makes you sad
Will make you cry

So you fall down a hole
That's the one place that we both know
-The Poison (All American Rejects)

Chapter Two

When my eyes slowly fluttered open, the surroundings were a hazy blur. All I could see were a smudge of colours in large blobs rather than clear and defined objects. Nevertheless when I blinked quickly several times, my vision much improved and I was able to recognise familiar domestic furniture in an atypical style of a living room. I saw walls around me of dark purple and soft material, though velvety in appearance it was just an immitation. It was a rather odd choice of something to put as wall decoration – seeing as wallpaper or paint would be much more suitable. And normal.

However these dark walls complimented the rest of the room's interior, with four Victorian Chaise lounges placed, two at the opposite corners of the room and two in front of the large dark wood fireplace. Right now there was no fire flickering and not even the traces of its smoky smell lingering in the air, it appeared that the fireplace had not been used in some time, for there were not even logs resting inisde it. The only source of light in the room came from the double, black paned windows at the far end, engulfing the entire wall and bringing in bright rays of intense sunlight. Only when I had realized how bright it really was, did I narrow my eyes - though I did not feel my pupils constrict, I knew they did to protect my vision.

There was an extremely large and reflective mirror above that nearby fireplace, outlined with a frame so outlandish and out of place in the room it seemed vaguely clear at the back of my mind whose home this was – for they would most likely share the same taste in unusual clothing, just as their furniture. But what was his name again? Ha-? Hat-?

At the bottom of the shining and almost supernatural mirror, I caught sight of a pale arm draped over the top of one of the Victorian lounges. When I instantly turned my head to the same spot from the reflection, I saw it was my own white arm. It was so unusually pale in the sun it looked as if soon I would disappear into the air. I was still lying down on the sofa, my hair in a neat mane around my face and my legs carelessly thrown onto the end of sofa, as if I had been dragged onto here or carried and then dropped. How long had I been sleeping? How could I even tell that this was a dream anymore, because (dare I say it a millionth time) pinching really did the trick. I tried to reach out a hand so I could pinch myself in the upper arm, but I was glued to the seat I was lying on and I could not move.

My heart began to race in uneven, lurging beats that it became almost painful to hear. I saw a shadow flicker somewhere at the back of mirror behind my seat. If I could, I froze. My eyes wide and afraid to blink, but I suddenly had more than enough energy.

I had never sat upward so quickly and twisted around to see who it was. My heart continued to crescendo and continue in painful, unnatural pulses that I immediately clutched the place above my left breast. As my hair whipped around me everywhere, it felt as if time had suddenly turned in slow motion, but why? When I turned, I met face to face with large, green eyes – this time, oddly enough, with specks of gray spreading across to the pupils and overwhelming the full eye almost completely. My breathing quickened – but it was only… Hatter?

But just as quickly as I saw the colour fade from his eyes, he closed them and put a block wall to his emotions. I could not read his face anymore, I felt vulnerable. A second ago the situation seemed intense and unnerving, now it was calm and even more so when Hatter spoke in a whisper – his eyes still closed and the proximity between us never faltering.

"I always knew you would return to me like this." He whispered, but his voice had a disturbing undertone, as if it was been possessed and used by another. Return to.. him?

"Hatter?" I asked, my voice shaking and betraying me completely. I clutched my chest yet tighter still becuase it was hurting.

He ignored me and continued, speaking words that in no way made sense to me, nonetheless because I tried too hard to understand them my head began to hurt. More than my chest. My mind was screaming and I couldn't take it anymore, there were too many noises in my head – a ticking pocket watch, the wind whistling, and a boy in front of me whispering – but they were too loud, so loud that my head would explode. So unnatural and exteme. I grabbed at the strands of my hair, scrunching and wringing them woundedly to distract the other pains. Frustration was building just as Hatter look my face in his hands. But it was unlike the last time our skin touched, this time he was ice cold, but still burning me. Everything was hurting, I felt like I was dying. I could barely flinch away for the sounds were getting louder. I was almost not able to hear him speak next.

"We will be destroyed by what we love." What or who?

Suddenly, in an instant, the sounds were gone and silence that was as typical as being completely alone in a room was back. The silence itself was deafening, and was a void absent of any sound. Eyes watering, I removed my shaking hands from my ears and hair to look up for comfort in my companions face... but was horrified instead.

What once was Hatter's beautifully haunting face was now melting. His eyes had lost their colour and pupils completely; they were now dripping white and streaming down his face. Like tears but almost glutinous. I let out a terrified gasp and my severe breathing pattern returned. His hands, that where once on my face had now liquefied and run down my chest to dampen to top of my dress. A soaked stain began to travel down. My eyes widened further because his face was really melting, and like hot wax he landed in dribbles on my lap, scorching my skin. Without knowing at what to do, the sounds were back, taking up my minds space and screaming in it – I looked straight into my reflection in the mirror and the boy in front of me was gone. Instead I was covered in a gooey texture all over my arms and legs, what was happening?

I screamed.

And screamed.

"ALICE!"

My eyes shot open this time, making no room for sleepy traces of blurry vision. I was alert from the moment I gained consciousness. My right hand shot up and grabbed with a vice-like grip onto the one thing that appeared closest to me – though I had not known it was Hatter's slender wrist, to which was joint to the hand cupping my cheek. When I looked up from where I was lying down on the lounge, I found that he was leaning over me with his other hand on my shoulder. My mouth was open, still gaping after being cut off from my shrill scream and I knew my face was completely damp with salty tears, absorbed by my numb lips and skin.

I don't think I've ever had a nightmare like that before. It was frightening … it was disgusting. Even now though Hatter spoke sweet comforts that I barely heard, as they were just background noise and drones; even then I was afraid of looking up at his face. I did not want to see anything like that again. My chest threatened me with a twinge of slight ache.

I heard him sigh, even with my wide, unblinking eyes staring at one spot on his neat blazer I knew that he was going to retreat because we had kept skin contact for far too long to remain decent. Yet as he began to pull his hand away and its lovely warmth had just left my cheek, I pulled it hurriedly back to me with both hands and finally having the courage to stare straight into his gray eyes. Gray? Ever changing.

"Stay with me a moment." I murmured guiltily and as moderately observant as I was, I noticed a speck of pink and green back in the Hatters dark gray eyes. It was logical to assume that he really had mood rings for eyes, but I was glad of it, even if I had no clue what yet all of the colours meant. It shows his humanity. It would be interesting to discover the colours for myself.

The Hatter contemplated to himself for a moment as I saw, he closed and opened his mouth several times not being able to say what he wanted to say, or so it appeared. But after a few minutes of silence but for the muffled sound of the summer wind sliding across the window and the sound of birds singing, I kept my hold on the Hatters hand and covering it with both of my own two smaller hands. A few million feelings bubbled inside me that I was unsure to identify and that I was vaguely aware of the tingling my fingertips made wherever they touched his skin. Wanted to shout at him to speak and at the same time, remain quiet so that this situation became less uncomfortable than it already was.

The time had eventually come and the Hatter shyly withdrew has hand from mine and took it back, I made no embarrassing grasps to keep holding onto him. I did not keep his hands to me by tangling my fingers through his, but instead I just let him go. It makes me sad to leave him again. Again? Surely this was nothing but a small meaningless encounter and was the first? My head twinged a little with a painful pinch at the back of my head, though I thought to ignore it.

He adjusted from his awkward position, leaning over my laying body and as I swung my feet off the lounge silently, he took a seat beside me at an arms distance. Sitting upright in the most lady like posture I could manage, I brushed the stray hairs from my slightly damp face and smoothed down my dress so the creases were made less noticeable. I sighed - as did he. I decided to be the first to speak as he was so withdrawn and stuck somewhere daydreaming of something in his mind. I long since accidentally knocked off his hat when I struggled to awaken from my nightmare, and I saw it had rolled a ways off across the black tiled floor. My feet were cold as my toes touched the tiles, and wondered where my boots had gone? Oh, he had seen a girl without stockings! His mass of messy hair covered his eyes so that once again I felt the déjà vu of not having insight into this stranger's wild and expressive emotions.

"I realize that because I am still here and that you… are still here, that I must still be dreaming." I looked over sideways for signs of emotion, but though he had now cocked up his head in my direction, politely listening to what I had to say. His expression was neutral and nor could I see past the now- normal colour of his eyes. I continued, "If I am still dreaming, surely what I have to say should not affect either of us. Because I am still dreaming. And I am?" I remained silent, waiting for any response. I appeared as if I was trying to reinforce what I tried myself to think and in my mind I did not sound that confident at all. I was rambling, which was commonly experienced when I felt nervous or in the rare cases in which I was unsure of what to say... exactly.

"I suppose, if that is still was you choose to believe." He finally spoke, whispering and with a brief mischievous sparkle that would usually go unnoticed by others who would not as much observe every detail of this boy's handsome face. That was best well to be kept well to myself, even in a dreamland. He was doing it again! That annoying sense like he knew better than me, which of course he was wrong!

"Then I'm sorry." I surrendered, breaking my gaze and avoiding his. We would continue that arguement if I still refused to wake up, until then I would let him keep thinking he was right.

"What?" He exclaimed, shocked by the sudden turn of the conversation, his eyes did widen more so this time, "Sorry for wha-"

I interrupted without an apology.

"Apparently I should be sorry for leaving you. For having have abandoned you at all, whoever you are. Or whoever you were... to me? I am not particularly sure why I am saying this but the words are just coming out of my mouth. But assuming that this is still a dream – which it is – this doesn't matter." His quiet, but empowering chuckle was enough to stop from me babbling on and if he had not done so I probably would not have stopped talking nonsense. I was so confused because of my body acting in a way that was so - what was happening? I tried to hold down the conflicting emotions in my mind and chest, I bit my lip to do so properly and concentrated.

"You seem to talk a lot more than you did before." He said, still smiling a half smile that meant he only curled one side of his rose lips. This time he was looking up at the ceiling and the decorative paintings on it, or was he just thinking?

"Don't do that." I murmured with a hint of anger.

"Do what?"

"Act like you already know me." I said, furrowing my brows and staring deep into the shadow of the fireplace. If I had mood rings for eyes, then mine would be darkening.

He chuckled that warm laugh again and it shook me unexpectedly, though I tried to give no surrender of my inward emotions, my brows shot up in slight astonishment, "But on the contrary Alice, you would be surprised."

I threw him a look of question, which he did not answer. What did that mean? This was getting even more and more confusing. My mind was aching as if it were being crushed between two hands.

I am very truly and actually, positively mad. But how do I wake up? How do I get home and away from what is making me Mad?

"I seem to know you, but at the same time I do not. Who are you really Tarrant Hightopp?"

A/N: This is taking an interesting turn. If anyone has any buzzing ideas for this story please tell me, because there are too many in my head. I need help!
Enjoy! Will update soon.

-fallen11angel