Her eyes snap open, as she inhales sharply, breathing in the smell of fresh ink and frost in the morning. She bends over slightly, and peers into the corner of the room, where a crummy desk is unoccupied. Crossly, she flops over on her side, and comes face to face with her twin sister, who is sleeping soundly. Something, a familiar something, sparks within her. She knows she should be seeing her sister, she knows she should be seeing the crystalline eyelashes and long, moonbeam locks, but all she sees is herself—a mirror image.
She clambers out of bed, careful not to wake Alyss, who is dozing so peacefully. A murmur of a sigh escapes her lips, and her bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor.
Their house is very small, with one cramped bathroom, one bedroom, a small, dimly lit kitchen. It is nothing compared to her old home, and she misses it with a burning ache. However, she is happy. It's just a little piece of joy, but enough to keep her going—enough to get her up in the morning. It's a happiness that comes from the love of a sister and uncle and an old keyboard.
She makes her way down the skinny flight of stairs, and into the kitchen, where she sees Oswald, her soft-spoken uncle, rummaging through the refrigerator. His lengthy dark hair looks unkempt—a rare sight—and his tired violet eyes, which are just like hers, are wild and frantic. His face is paler than she's ever seen it, and gaunt with sharply protruding cheekbones. He looks ghostly in the dim lighting.
"Oswald?" She says quietly, causing him to withdraw from the fridge and turn to her.
"Ah, good morning, Alice," He responds mildly, patting her head gently. "Did you sleep well?"
He is unfocused, but gives her a miniscule, distracted smile. It makes him look slightly deranged.
"No, did you sleep well?" Alice growls, and crosses her arms, trying to mask her worry. "You look terrible."
"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine," He brushes away her concerns with a polite wave of dismissal. "It's just that we're going to visit your mother today."
Alice freezes, as does her heart. The sentence echoes. Her mother…? How long has it been? She backs away slowly, before whirling around and scampering back up the stairs. She flings the door open with a loud bang, and pinches Alyss awake, glaring at her angelic face.
"Alyss," She snaps as her fair-haired twin attempts to go back to sleep. "Alyss, get up!"
"Go away," Is the reply.
"Alyss, we're going to visit Mom today!" Silence.
With a small squeak of the bed in acknowledgement, Alyss crawls out of the covers, lilac eyes pools of worry.
An unspoken agreement passes between them.
"Alice, straighten your dress," Oswald says quietly, but the command is still evident. She does, and without protest, which is unusual for her.
The cab is uncomfortably silent, except for the paunchy, cigar-smelling driver's tone-deaf humming.
The trip out into the countryside takes about an hour, and the stifling, scratchy material of the dress makes her cringe. But she does not complain. There is no room for whining today. She simply stares out the rain streaked window, watching the summer-bitten trees mush and meld together into distorted figures of emerald green.
It is unusually rainy for a day in June, as though the heavens sense the gloominess of her little makeshift family. Alyss drools on her shoulder, but she pays it no mind. She wonders what her mother will be like. She can't remember at all, just a pair of wine red eyes, wide with childlike wonder. Alice contemplates waking her sister to ask her, but stops herself. Does she really want to hear about her mother—this stranger?
Alyss knows. Alyss always knows, but she dares not ask. While Alice was raised in that wretched house, Alyss had been with their mother—their mother who is clinically insane.
The cab drops them off at the edge of the tiny town, and Oswald pays the driver extra to stay and wait for them. The trio makes their way into the town, which is bustling with smiling, rosy-cheeked people who are surprisingly active for a rainy day.
"It's beautiful," Alyss breathes. It suddenly strikes Alice that her twin has never been here before.
"Not really," Alice mumbles back, adjusting the hem of her dress once more.
Their house, the cage where she had once been imprisoned, is just outside of town, and she is glad that they don't see it. She doesn't feel ready.
Some people stop and stare, and she has to bite back stinging remarks. Hasn't anyone told you it's rude to stare? She wants to scream. Her family is never welcomed. She listens, and can hear their whispers.
"The eyes, look at the eyes!"
"They've got to be one of them—that cursed family,"
"Do you think they've come to visit that one?"
"I heard she tried to strangle one of the nurses last week!"
"Good lord, I hope they're out of here soon!"
Alyss shrinks slightly behind her, cowering behind the bolder of the twins. Alice doesn't have to ask to know that the beauty of the town is gone from her eyes.
"Come along, girls," Oswald smiles gently, and they continue on their way. She can see in the pain writhing in his eyes.
Her boots make an oddly satisfying click on the slick cobblestone path, and she focuses on the noises to avoid the stares and reproachful looks the townspeople give them. Maybe they don't remember her. She gets a twisted feeling of happiness knowing that they don't remember her, that strange girl who haunted the Baskerville House.
They reach the hospital, settled at the end of the main street. It is small, with faded green shutters and walls of pale brick. The door is pretty, made of glass. She can see the receptionist, a bubbly looking young woman with hair the color of cherry blossom petals. Her eyes are an eerily vibrant shade of magenta.
"Why, if it isn't Oswald Baskerville," She squeals, standing slowly. There is something about her demeanor that Alice does not like.
"Hello, Lottie," Oswald replies in a resigned sort of way.
"Have you come here to visit me?" 'Lottie' inquires, leaning forwards and propping her chin up on her hands.
"She's flirting with Oswald!" Alyss growls under her breath, and Alice nods in agreement. They both shuffle a little closer to their uncle.
"Lottie, you know why I'm here," Oswald sighs, making the pinkette pout childishly with her ruby slathered lips.
"Last room on the third floor," Lottie says rather indifferently, all traces of flirtation gone, before sitting back down with a disappointed huff. They thank her politely, and the twins hurriedly latch onto Oswald and hurry to the stairs. They decide they hate that woman.
Alice clutches tightly onto her sisters arms as they finally reach the last door on the third floor. Oswald knocks, and it sounds like a death sentence in her ears. The door opens with a loud creak, and out comes a small, round lady with a sweet face. The smile crinkles at the corner of her eyes relax her a little, but she does not let go of her sister and uncle.
"Oh, you must be the Baskervilles," She acknowledges kindly, putting out a soft, broad-palmed hand.
"Yes, that's us," Oswald says. The nervousness, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, is evident in his voice. He shakes her hand briefly.
"I'm Mrs. Finn, Ms. Baskerville's head nurse. You are?"
"Oswald Baskerville, Lacie's brother. These are her daughters, Alice and Alyss,"
Alice cringes at the similarity of their names. She has never hated it more than now. She looks to her sister, who is completely undeterred. In fact, her twin smiles brightly at the nurse. Alice bitterly thinks that despite having the same face, Alyss will always be prettier. She shakes away the thought as quickly as it came.
"Well, do come in," Mrs. Finn laughs, and gestures them inside.
When they enter, Alice stiffens.
She doesn't know what she was expecting, but this was definitely not it.
A tall, slim woman sits on a soft white bed, flipping the page of thin book lovingly. Her hair, dark and silky, tumbles down her shoulders. Her eyes are exactly how Alice remembers—the exact shade of red wine. They are fixated on the book, as though she did not hear them enter.
"Lacie," Oswald whispers, and pulls away from the twins' grasps.
He swiftly walks to her, and in three strides, he is kneeling by her side, gazing up at his sister's face. After a moment of painful silence, she turns her head and closes the book. From her place at the doorway, Alice makes out the title of the book. It is Alice in Wonderland.
"Lacie, do you know who I am?" He asks calmly, gently, as though speaking with a small child. The question resonates around the room, in all its white-walled glory.
It takes her a while to answer.
"No."
Author's Note: Enter Alice. Wow, I hope this didn't make your brain hurt. The plot bunny is vicious, what can I say? I hope this met up to expectations. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to continue the story, but I must say, I've fallen in love with the idea. I hope I didn't butcher the characters too much, but this is an AU piece. Thanks for reading!