"So Miss Liddell. Your nightmares have been coming back." The doctor's voice, smooth as snakeskin, glided through the air to poison Alice's ear.
She gritted her teeth slightly. "That's correct."
He tutted, as though she were a little child who had done something wrong. "Oh, that is not what I wanted to hear. Not at all what I wanted to hear."
She snarled inwardly, but kept her composure as any other young lady of eighteen might. "I apologise if I have inconvenienced you in any way, doctor."
"I think it might be for the best if you took these."
He held out a small jar but Alice waved it away.
"Don't bother. Other doctors gave them to me. They just prolong the dreadful experience." She pressed a delicate hand to her temple and the doctor glared at her slightly before leaving.
Wonderland. A place where she was sure she had been, because she knew all the people there. Glancing to the mirror, she saw a slight shadow in it, prickling at her infamous curiosity. She went up to the mirror and placed her hands upon it childishly.
She recoiled instantly, at the faint feeling that she would slip through…
Again.
Quivering in fear, she watched as the shadow recoiled, and then pressed itself against the glass. Oh no. She'd finally gone mad.
Because there was the palest little girl, shouting and sobbing, tears running down her cheeks, even though Alice couldn't hear a sound. A crown nestled lovingly in the pale locks as the girl slammed her palms repeatedly into the mirror, and Alice hazily identified her as the White Queen, one of the people from her Nightmares.
She hesitantly put a hand to the mirror, hoping it might sooth the illusion, who seemed to be calming down. She took one hand away to try and beckon Alice, who shook her head. This seemed to send the girl into hysterics, when another figure appeared, shadowy, but giving Alice a most peculiar feeling of heartbreak. The girl slowly stepped away from the mirror, and Alice was left looking like a fool.
Clutching her head, she stumbled away, eyes widening in horror. Her heart hurt more than it should. Were her nightmares finally crossing the border to pursue her as much as they did at night? She collapsed onto the chair as her knees failed her, tears rolling down her cheeks, a cheerful voice echoing in her head, pieced together from a child's memory. The voice of the Hatter.
She shook her head, concentrating on the White Queen who had trustingly fallen asleep in her lap when they were just children. By the looks of things, the Queen still was. Maybe you didn't age in Wonderland?
She ached to look at the mirror, but a primal fear of some sort held her back, pleading with her not to.
She could have sworn she heard a stifled sob, and quiet, surreptitious tapping, but turned her head away.
It stopped.
