Entry Two: As requested by your blah blah blah
Started along Landend, or the end of the land if you will. Hard to say that I started at the end though, probably more like somewhere in the middle, or even slightly nearish to the beginning. No bloodybighead, who, one would think, could at least muster the courtesy to be where she was BANISHED TO SO THAT ALL THAT SHE SET A HANDERSLACK EN RUFLIN SHEWD – this wvordvwine is not suited for outlandish, please hold until sender switches back to plain speech, thank you for your patience –M M M M M!!! m. Words that start with 'M' are no longer worth pondering. Moving on to 'N' then? No, by the very act of Moving to it it's still restrained. Backwards then, to 'L'. Land, longitude, looking, leering, leaving…
It was a struggle to crawl up to consciousness. Darkness and noiseless static were so much more appealing and required no effort on her part. Once she made the struggle though, once she had a slim awareness, the shooting pain abruptly woke her. Margret's eyes met hers and she saw her sister start in surprise. "Alice!" Her mother's voice was the concrete rope she desperately grabbed for as pain broke her concentration and nothingness took her again.
"That she woke then is a good sign, yes, but even so the extent of her injuries…"
…if we remove the knife it could save her. Or it could puncture the lung…"
The doctor's monotone was not an alluring lifeline, Alice felt no need to stay awake if all she had to listen to were his worried musings.
"Oh Alice," her mother's voice choked on itself, fear preventing her from finishing. Her mother's fear, now that Alice thought she should make an effort to be conscious for – to alleviate if she could. Forcing her eyes open, which was far harder than it needed to be, Alice caught the tear-stained faces of her mother and sister. "I'm …fine," she rasped out, hardly convincing with a voice as weak as it was, "don't worry Mother."
"But…" Alice could hardly stand to listen to the worry and despair her mother placed in such a short protest. Well, her inner mind giggled, she could hardly stand at all. Let alone to listen to anything.
"Mother, really, all I need is a strong cup of tea." A blatant lie of course. She did not doubt the powers of Tea, but it was definitely not the only thing she needed. However, the suggestion did what Alice had hoped it would – get her mother and Margret out of the room. Rather they focus on a futile task than she her here like this. Margret briefly looked back as she closed the door behind her, "Our love to you, Alice," her eyes far too sad to have been fooled by Alice's request as their mother had been. Alice managed a weak nod, "and mine to you both."
The door close and the room spun, perhaps nodding had been a bad idea. "Well?" She tried to fix a no-nonsense stare onto the doctor, but he was moving awfully quick and fixing anything on him seemed difficult to do.
"Now Miss Kingsely, the best thing for you to do is rest."
"Yes Alice, please rest. Dr. Bettham is the best in the county and as for Stelan, I'll see him hang for this, I swear it!" Ascot's anger was rather loud for Alice's head, it made the lights dance so, but she appreciated his enthusiasm.
"Lord Ascot, Sir…perhaps now is not the best time to mention that."
Mention what? Oh right. "So Stelan is to blame for this mess then?" Alice tried for a laugh but got only labored coughs instead. She coughed over Ascot's reply and then the only thing she could hear were her coughs. The rattling, blood-coated coughs were just too annoying to listen to, so she allowed the pillows to claim her head once more.
When Alice came to she found her room empty but heard hushed voices on the other side of the door. There was a tea cup on the nightstand to her left, bless her mother. Alice's eyes wandered from the tea cup, past the nightstand, to the mirror on her wall. There her gaze faltered and she realized she did not want to see herself. For a moment fear washed over her, threatening to drown her, until she found a comforting familiarity in the fear. I have faced this before, she thought. What is Death but another Jabberwocky? She raised her eyes to the mirror, briefly wondering: but where is my sword?
What a pitiful image I make, Alice thought, all propped up on blood stained pillows and tangled in bandages. Her sunken, pale eyes looked back at her. No, no this is not how I will go. Courage Alice, Courage. Her eyes cleared a bit and she made an effort to lift her chin, trying for her trademark condescending look. Pull yourself together Alice! She attempted a cocky grin but it came out sickly, drooping at the corners. The Alice in the mirror, however, smiled broadly back, a strong, sly smile. Alice raised her eyebrows in surprise, but her mirror self just looked smug. Her reflection turned and reached behind her, reaching for something behind the pillow. When she was facing her once again Alice saw a small purple vial resting in her reflection's palm.
A million thoughts rushed through Alice's mind. Could she really go back? Should she have written a will? Would Ascot be able to manage the company? Was it alright to leave without telling her mother goodbye? Watching all these thoughts left Alice lightheaded but luckily pain is an excellent way to regain focus and so Alice soon made a decision. Best to go now – no restraint just action. Restraint is too much like convention and when have I ever followed that?
Mirror-Alice held the vial up, as if making a toast. "To the impossible then?" Alice asked, "Well then, bottoms up!" Her reflection grinned and downed the Jabberwocky blood.
