Aurora

I am forced to sit in the seat that Ms. Porter just left behind, forced by these two brutes to sit across from this vile woman. I loathe most everyone in this building, but Helena Hornsby is the most horrid, evil creature I've ever laid my eyes on. My hatred for her is unrivaled, and not without reason, unlike what she's tricked everyone else to believe. She refuses to admit that we have a history. That we met long before I was admitted to this sanitarium. Our relationship goes way back, down a long, winding, complicated trail of deceit and spite. But she's convinced everyone that it was all a lie, a false history in my deluded mind. That I'm just likening her to some childhood trauma, a "bogeyman".

I despise her. And she despises me, too. But she'll never admit it.

Helena watches me with those burning eyes, her head held high with regality. She briefly glances away from me to nod at Gaston and Rourke, signaling for them to leave. Her gaze is already settled on me before they've left the room. The door slams behind me, but I don't flinch. I stare back at her with all my sttength, willing all my anger and hatred to crush her like a stone. She raises one black brow and leans forward, folding her hands on top of her desk.

"Another outburst, my dear?" She smirks. "This won't look good on your record."

"I don't care." I snap. "They started it."

Helena sighs and leans back. "That's what you say every time, Aurora." She turns to the cabinet behind her, opens the top drawer, and fishes out my file. "According to you, they always start it."

I just glare at her. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of winning another argument against me with her lies. I am silent.

She opens the file and plucks up a fancy pen from her desk, lazily flipping to a page and then scribbling elegant, sloping letters onto it. I watch her, already anticipating what she's about to say. I'm used to the injustice by now. I'm numb to it. I lost hope long ago.

Helena sets her pen aside and snaps the file shut, peering up at me with those unsettling eyes. I show no fear and stare back at her evenly.

"I can't help you any further unless you start showing improvement." She says. "It's been over a year now, and you're no better than you were on your first day. I'm afraid that if you don't shape up, you may never leave this place. Do you understand me?"

"I've heard this all before." I reply flatly.

"Yes, but you've never taken it seriously until now." She puts my file back in the drawer. "You still think that your mummy and daddy are going to come rescue you from this horrible place. Hmm?" I can see in her eyes that she's mocking me. "You still don't understand. You're an embarrassment to your poor parents. Cooperating with us and getting better in this institution is your only hope of ever seeing them again."

"That's not true." I state stubbornly. I'm making an effort not to grind my teeth in my rage.

"Remember who it was who had you locked up, my dear. Stop living in denial." She says dismissively. She stands up, prompting me to do the same, and leads me out into the hall, where Rourke is waiting for me. "Mr. Rourke will be taking you to your room now. You're to remain in there, alone, until tomorrow. Hopefully then you'll be willing to see things our way."

I stare at my feet as Rourke grabs my arm and starts to pull me away. I keep up with him, no longer willing to fight. I won't let these people feel like they've won. I'll walk to my room without a fuss, not be dragged through these halls like an unruly dog.

I've tried for the last year to play Helena's game. To bide my time and be obedient, hoping that that would be my escape from this place. But there have been obstacles. Doctors and members of the security team goad me into arguments and provoke me to defend myself from them. I wind up in Helena's office and she threatens to keep me here forever and uses my parents to get to me. It's true, my parents were the ones who sent me away. And it's true that they never visit. My brother does, but they don't. And yes, they are quite wealthy. They could spring me out of here in an instant if they wanted to.

But they don't want to. They don't want me. I scare them. They're ashamed of me. Helena tells me all this. I've started to believe it. But my brother, Phoebus, gives me hope. He never misses visiting day. He assures me that I'm not crazy and that he'll get me out of here. Phoebus is the only person I have in this world. Getting to see him only once a month is killing me. Every goodbye is harder than the last, and his absence is becoming unbearable. This place only feels like a home when he's around. But, every other day of the month, I am very overwhelmingly alone.

Jane

After lunch, I wait in my office for Alice to come in for her session. I feel sick to my stomach as I think about what it is I must do. I must encourage Alice to stifle her imagination. It's her only chance at getting out of this place, and another chance might never come, knowing Helena. I also must not compromise my position at this institution. If Helena has a reason to fire me, she will. And who knows whose hands Alice could end up in if I'm gone?

There's a light knock on my door. I call for the visitor to come in. Alice enters, escorted by Belle. Despite my effort to put on a smile, Belle can sense that something is wrong. She's got a knack for that; she's a smart one. Belle pats Alice on the shoulder before leaving and shutting the door after her. Alice takes her usual seat in front of my desk. It is hard for me to meet her pure, round blue eyes. How can I, when I'm about to trample over her innocence?

"Merida helped me set up this make-shift cricket game in the courtyard. You should come play with us after my afternoon classes." Alice tells me excitedly.

It pains me to think that the offer may be rescinded when I begin to betray her trust. It hurts that that sweet little voice may not speak too openly with me after this.

"Right... Well... Let's get started, shall we?" I say, pulling up my notepad and a pen.

"I mean, it's not as impressive as the Queen's cricket game would be. But at least we won't have to play with flamingos and hedgehogs." Alice giggles.

"Flamingos and...?" I sigh. "Alice..."

"And at least if you win the game, the loser won't try to take off your head. Well, hopefully not..."

"Alice." I say, more firmly. She buttons up, looking confused by my tone. I try to keep my expression stern and not let my true emotions show. Alice looks slightly worried as she examines my expression. I keep my voice even as I continue. "It's time to buckle down. We have to get serious about getting you better. Otherwise your stay here might be longer than we anticipated."

"But... I like it here. The people here actually listen to me. You believe me."

"Well, that's going to stop." My voice sounds thick with sorrow, but the child confuses it with anger. "We can't go on encouraging these fantasies of yours. Then we'll never make progress. I can't keep enabling you, Alice."

Alice looks very hurt now. She's leaning back in her seat, trying to put as much space between us as possible. My heart aches.

"This whole time... You've been lying?" She whimpers. "You never believed me?"

"No." I state curtly. I take a deep breath. Tears are pricking my eyes, threatening to come up. I won't let them. "How could I? It's all just...silly nonsense! It's ridiculous, Alice. Just your imagination running wild. And I don't want to hear any more of it! Don't you see it's these...these...delusions that got you sent here in the first place? That they're the reason you're still here?"

"So... If I say that I made up everything... I leave?"

"Yes."

"But... Then I'd be lying! Wonderland is real, Jane! Everything I've said is true! You must believe me! And if I have to go back to my sister, everyone will just treat me like I'm crazy! If I go-" She pauses, as if something has dawned on her. "Do you...want me to go, Jane? Do you not want me here?" Her lip shakes. She feels like our bond has been a farce, that now I'm pushing her away like she means nothing. She feels abandoned.

I hesitate. This is going to be the hardest blow, for both of us.

"No, Alice. Honestly, I don't." I chew on the inside of my lip, biting back my despair as I watch her hang her head and begin to cry. I take a few deep breaths and say, "Let's continue. Tell me more about your day. And no more lies having to do with Wonderland."

Someday, she'll realize what I've done for her. And she'll thank me.