Fiction Sad Suspense

This story contains sensitive content

(Trigger Warning: self harm, mental illness, violence, language, implied unhealthy relationship, implied substance use/trafficking)

Confusion

She was 14 when she started hearing voices. It was her father’s, but that wasn’t possible, because even at age 14 she knew he wasn’t coming back from the place he’d gone.

“Alice, don’t go near that door…Alice, stop.” He whispered while she got out of bed for a drink of water. She jumped when he spoke, instinctively whirling to face the direction she heard his voice from.

In the dim lighting she saw nothing. “Father?” She whispered anyway, a tiny hope blossoming in her chest. Silence echoed like a tidal wave, mocking her. “Are you haunting me?” She shrank, tears filling her eyes as images of his dead body swam involuntarily to her mind.

“Alice, it's dangerous, stop!” Now he was yelling and she gasped, startled by the sudden noise. She glanced around in the dark, frantically-

...Father would never say something like that, it occurred to her. This is irrational, part of her protested.

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real… He’s dead, it’s not real..

Soon her mother’s voice joined his, spitting insults, telling her to be careful, always careful. 

It took three days for her father to start blaming her. “It's your fault...” He muttered, bitter,

Another day and her mother joined in. “Your fault, all yours!” She screamed.

“It’s not!” Alice cried, overwhelmed, putting her head under the pillows and squeezing her eyes shut. “You killed him because you said…” She sobbed, remembering the words.

Her mother, standing over her father’s bloody remains, calmly cleaning a knife. “He wouldn’t listen to me.” She said softly, patient smile painted on like a doll's. “I couldn’t control him, Alice, baby. He would have hurt us.”

Alice’s father wouldn’t have. Her mother was trying to manipulate her as she always did. The enforcers came, took her mother away....she ran to a castle before they knew there was ever a disturbed child named Alice on 1924 Cheshire Street.

Now her father groaned in pain... Alice searched for him again with horror constricting her chest, seeing nothing.

-oh god oh god oh god-

Her mother whispered it now. “He was dangerous, unpredictable..." She raged, invading Alice's skull like nails on a chalkboard. "You poisoned him!”

“What do I do about it?” Alice begged, teary eyed. A small part of her almost believed that they were real; they sounded real, even though she couldn’t see them.

Maybe it was her fault. Aged 9 when it happened, it couldn't be.... but in the dark, alone, with those voices that shot panic through her veins...

“Atone. Repent.” Her father commanded, voice like thunder and just as crushing.

“Bleed…” Hissed her mother, the snake that curled around the defenseless chick.

Her glassy eyes widened in fear, doll-like curls whipping as she turned in the direction of the voice. “B...bleed?”

“Bleed, Alice.” Her mother encouraged.

“DO IT!” Her father roared as Alice’s fingernails dug in. Harder she squeezed her shaking hands into fists as tears fled her face.

“Alice?” Her door cracked and she startled like a thief caught.

Theo, his curly hair ruffled, concern in his honest features. “Alice, what're you doing?”

“I-I don’t…I don’t know…” She stammered, her voice shaky, surprised to find the statement true.

“You’re bleeding!” Theo said, going from tired to alarmed as he raced towards her, examining her hands. “What happened?” He asked, finally meeting her gaze.

The eyes he saw were so full of tears, the silver-blue shade shining in the moonlight, focused singularly on her hands in horror.

“Oh Alice…” Theo smiled, face hidden in the dark. “Why did you do that to yourself? What were you thinking?” His voice lilted.

“They told me to.” She looked up from the blood pooling in her palms.

“They?” He cautiously glanced around the room.

“Mom…and Dad.”

In the morning her hands were bandaged, but it was never the same.

The voices followed her always-in the dark while she lay paralyzed in her bed, the day when she was walking in the square, the moments between sleep and waking....

They never left her alone. Just like the spiders, crawling across her feet that made her shriek and run into Teddy's open arms.

Teddy

There once was a girl hallmarked for her looks as a living doll. Constantly wearing cute dresses, with rosy cheeks and blonde curls, twinkling blue eyes and cheer that made others smile as they passed, she lived up to that name.

The girl resided in a large castle, not unlike Rapunzel, her glass heart close to her chest. She lived only with an old maid to take care of her, mother and father missing. A boy had fallen for her hard after seeing her one day, call him a prince if you'd like. He was 12 when he vowed to serve her, presenting a crown he'd spent days making out of daisies. The maid, grateful to have someone capable of heavy lifting, allowed the boy to work for them.

The girl was Alice Liddell. The boy, Theodore Hatta.

Theo watched as the girl he valued dearly withered to a thinner, taller 16 year old. No more was the doll; Alice had changed. Hollowed, red rimmed eyes, and nails chewed to stubs, complexion just as pale, but more ashen than the porcelain of before, replaced that doll with reality.

She was sobbing, tucked into a corner. "Alice...Hey, it's okay...I'm here..." His arms encircled her fragile form.

"Teddy..." Her voice was weak as she hugged him tightly.

He still found her beautiful, but in a more tragic way.

The reason for this change?

Alice had nightmares now.

Nightmares...and some place she called Wonderland.

Wonderland

When the villagers stormed the castle she lived in, she didn't understand. When they called her a witch, tempter of the devil, she did.

After years of being loved by the town as if she were it's own, she was kicked from her home and hustled away fast as possible, her back turning to the woosh of fire and the outlines of pitchforks destroying her only home.

She wasn't worried. She had Teddy, and Maid. They were enough.

She had once-only for a period, a regrettable period-thought the voices in her head evil too, but now-now she knew better. The voices were glorious-scary, but only because she didn't know as much as they did about Wonderland. They were no curse-they were a beautiful gift, put in her undeserving hands! It was no evil inhabiting her body-it was a power, given by the universe to see into the next one. And she-what a lucky girl-she was a saint.

They called her crazy- because they hadn't been blessed the way she was, with the Sight! They called her evil-how could such a beautiful place, such an awe inspiring world, be evil to see? They only called it so because they couldn't see it-because they weren't as enlightened as she was.

She'd decided to call the place she saw- as magical and lovely as it was-Wonderland.

It was her retreat, her reprieve, her heart's desire-even if it sometimes scared her.

The March Hare was something that scared her in Wonderland... A larger than life man in a bunny costume that was torn in some places, splattered with blood in others, it's fur matted with dirt and refuse. The glinting red eyes followed her when she slept and if she turned fast enough, she could see him in the corners of her room.

There must be a reason he existed-of that Alice was certain. Everything in Wonderland, from the spiders that made her scream to the beautiful mushrooms and strange dolls, had a place in Wonderland. She was determined to find out what his was, and asked him at the first chance, providing her voice didn't fail her in fear.

He'd never answered, only stared with those red eyes and lifted a knife, chasing until she was running running running...

It was upon one of those occasions that she found herself lost.

Hatta

To others, Alice seemed distinctly out of place.

In comparison to her surroundings, she was: the worst of the slums swallowed this young girl, dark and colored only in dismal shades of dingy silver, filthy green, and pitch black. 

Despite this, Alice retained her youthful shine. Perhaps it was the distance in her eyes, the dreamlike quality to her gaze, shuttered by lids lowered halfway down that spoke to the depth of her delusions.

Some would call her insane. She would laugh and join them on the better of days, not register their existence on the worst of days. 

Today was one of the better days. Alice certainly noticed when three men came from a side alley, though the smile never left her face....even as they came over to her and asked, “Why you slumming it down here with us, little rich girl?”

From the rooftops, another watched as the scene played out, waiting.

“Little rich girl?” Alice asked, seeming confused. “Oh no, I live here. If I’m a rich girl, you're a billionaire.” Her voice had a soft childish lilt to it, bell-like despite her age of 18.

“Well…What’s a little lady like yourself doing down south then?” The first of them sneered.

She smiled. “Why, I’m here for a tea party. The mushrooms are lovely this time of year.”

Taken off guard by her words, they turned to each other. A tea party? Is this bitch crazy? They all thought. None of them voiced this thought. The first man seemed to finally grasp that Alice had a few marbles loose up top. He said as much to his partners off to the side as Alice hummed under her breath, unaware and unseeing. Finally he turned to her and squatted down, asking, “Can, uh…we come to this…tea party?” 

She turned to them, her eyes wide as she slowly shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing. “Why no. Unscrupulous rabbits like yourselves have no place at a tea party with Mr. Hatta, only the March Hare does.” Elaborating, she added, "Teddy doesn't like strangers hugging him."

All three men visibly drew back at the mention of the most feared crime lord in the slums. “She’s…She’s talking about that Hatta, right? Theodore Hatta?” Their voices a lowered whisper. 

“No, no way…She can’t know Hatta…” The leader shot back.

Louder, to Alice, he asked, “Are you sure? Can’t you ask this…Hatta?”

Alice turned to him, frowning. “No need. He’s here already.”

“No way.” Said the left one, blatantly disbelieving. "She's crazy."

Alice giggled. "Silly Mr. Rabbit. You can't see, can you?"

Suddenly the right guy gasped. “Hold up, is she the one who-” That was as far as he got before a shot tore through his head, body crumpling. 

Alice blinked rapidly, shock and horror flitting through the no longer faraway gaze, turning it sharp for an instant before it glassed over, blanked out, her mind retreating to the dream. 

“Mr. Rabbit?" She put a hand over her skirt front and knelt. "Are you okay?” She asked the dead body, so focused she didn’t even blink as the others fell to the ground beside her. She stroked the man’s hair, unheeding of the grime and blood staining it. “You must’ve been awfully tired to fall asleep like this, Mr. Rabbit…Don’t worry now, I’ll protect you.”

Dead to the world, neither dead men nor girls reacted as Theo walked up behind her. “Alice? We’ll be late to the tea party if we linger here.” 

“But Teddy, we can’t leave silly Mr. Rabbit to sleep unprotected can we?” Alice asked. Tears in her eyes indicated that, while the elaborate fantasy her mind spun was still in effect, somewhere in that golden head was the understanding that the men were dead. 

Even this didn't break the chains of her delusions. It never would, no matter how many Theo killed in front of her, she was in Wonderland. He usually lied, seeing as truth would only disturb the girl further, but today he hadn’t the patience to explain it away. Today he was too tired to manipulate it into the fantasy, the way he'd adjusted the narrative over kidnapping her and her maid from the house on the hill in flames so long ago.

“I’ll make sure they’re taken care of.” Theo smiled thinly, ensuring that his gun was tucked out of sight. “Come along, you’re all dirty. We should make sure that you get all cleaned up before the party....I've got your mushrooms to serve the guests.” He patted his pocket, where bags upon bags of powdered drugs, illegal for recreational use due to their deadly long term effects, sat hidden.

“…I suppose it won’t do to go in these dreary clothes. I’ve got so much dirt on them…” Alice sighed, smoothing the bloodied hem of her skirt and accepting Theo’s hand. "I wish I could have some mushrooms."

"No, Alice. I'm never letting you have any, you know it." He answered absently, kissing her forehead. "We have to share."

Theo thinks it’s fascinating how her mind invents such in depth explanations to avoid recognizing reality. Almost sad, almost funny. Perhaps that was why he continued playing his part in the elaborate script while Theodore Hatta became the most feared name on the streets. Despite all he had done to her and her family, Alice trailed along obediently, that childishness never fading, that delusion never breaking, not a hint of rage in those hazy blue eyes.

He doubled his pace as a cop car came too close for comfort.

Hatta thinks it’s a pity these days won’t last much longer.

Alice

The world was spinning, she was spinning, something was wrong. Teddy was missing, but where?

Something about blood-angry men busting down a door, guns and the March Hare...

Dangling sparkly threads in her arms were making her feel strange, like some sort of elaborate puppet, so she pulled them out, letting them droop. One of them, red, dripped pathetically.

Was it her arm? It didn't feel like hers. Certainly it couldn't belong to her, it was too red and broken looking, far too achy.

Searching her memory, she struggled to recall...

Right! There had been an interrogation recently, someone wondered why she had the Sight, asked lots of questions about Teddy that she didn't understand, some about Wonderland too. She'd been all too happy to tell them as much as possible about Wonderland, of course; she wished everyone could see.

Although...

Their questions about Teddy made no sense-he was the prince saving her from a castle, not burning it, what did they mean she was a missing person from an 'Amber Alert'?

Were they her first disciples? It had been lovely for people to ask about Wonderland without the 'c' word.

She wasn't crazy-she was a saint with the Sight.

The lady was nodding, dressed in a white lab coat. She talked to one of the black clad 'SWAT' men who had hugged Teddy yesterday during the fly themed surprise party. They'd thrown the doors open hard, but maybe that was intentional-like the confetti they had sprayed, meant for fun.

It didn't make sense...Teddy had used poppers that made confetti too, flashy and loud. Had he known about the surprise party?

Her head hurt.

Alice giggled, because couldn't the coat lady see the spiders? Others never did-they had no Sight, they weren't blessed. The SWAT man had claw marks on his face, Teddy didn't like anyone but Alice hugging him. Didn't the SWAT man know that? The confetti had hurt, now she thought the flashing of the camera light, the noise of the poppers, had too...

"-schizophrenia, PTSD, caused by the trauma of her parents' murders and her kidnapping."

"I'm just glad we have Hatta under wraps." SWAT replied.

Alice really wanted to giggle now. The one thing Teddy liked less than being hugged was being wrapped up. Alice would know, he only wanted his dolly to be wrapped, so she'd spent many times wrapped in plastic.

"I recommend we send her to the psych ward." Coat lady was saying.

Wonderland was so sparkly it was hard to focus. Her head was spinning-likely a good thing, Wonderland was better when her head was spinning. It felt like the time she'd snuck into Teddy's tea stash, spilled the powdered milk on the ground...

"Her delusions are strong, and she claims Hatta's her boyfriend, Stockholm Syndrome."

"Is that the final verdict? Do we know if she's assisted in any of his crimes?"

The world spun more now, she wobbled. Had they given her tea after all?

"Answers are hard to get, she's completely delirious..."

The voice was fading, the dizziness dangerous now, there was a black curtain across her face closing slowly. She wanted to ask it to stop, it hurt...

"What's that beeping?"

Wait...she was on fire, burning, the curtain was closing more rapidly and she was falling-she didn't want her part to end....why were those strange blobs approaching fast? Pain and fire-

It was all gone. Should she let go of those sparkling threads of consciousness that danced, teased so?

"Shit! We're losing her! IV's out, blood and oxygen levels dropping, I need-"

They were all loud, too much movement...Couldn't the Rabbits be calm? Alice was. The curtain was dropping on the stage. Didn't they know this act was over? The world felt all too bright and she sank to the depths of the fluffy darkness with open arms.

I wish Teddy was here. She smiled as she felt the light dim, vanish.

He'll join you soon. The March Hare grinned, wide and obscene, but for once, she didn't cringe in fear.

How could she?

After all, everything in Wonderland belonged in Wonderland.

Even Alice.

Posted Feb 23, 2025
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8 likes 3 comments

Sofia Puggioni
18:41 Mar 20, 2025

Oh. Wow. :O
Really a nice piece! I love it, really!
It's very creative!
It's a bit disorienting but, since I think I think it's intentional. really well constructed.
Again really creative! :)

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Natalia Dimou
18:42 Mar 04, 2025

This story presents a disturbing and complex narrative, effectively portraying the protagonist's descent into delusion and the manipulative dynamic of her relationship. The fragmented structure and vivid imagery successfully convey Alice's distorted perception of reality. The contrast between her innocent, childlike voice and the graphic nature of her experiences creates a chilling effect. However, the story could benefit from a more nuanced approach to its sensitive themes. The rapid shifts between Alice's perspective and the external reality can be disorienting, and the depiction of her mental illness and trauma sometimes feels exploitative. Consider refining the narrative to provide a clearer sense of Alice's internal world, and strive for a more subtle and respectful portrayal of her psychological struggles. I'm more than eager to hear your thoughts and constructive review on my piece, as I strive to refine and elevate my writing further.

Reply

Everly Darkler
04:52 Mar 16, 2025

The disorienting shifts are intentional-it was meant to bring attention to the contrast of her innocent childish perspective on the violence of her life that she doesn't quite recognize as reality, similar to the progressively worsening perspective of a room in the short story "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. As for how I depicted Alice's psychological struggles mental illness and trauma, I'm curious what you mean by it feels exploitative? In what way? She retreats to a fantasy, leaning into her delusions (worsened by substances) in order to escape a horrifying reality (the childish lightly taken perspective being intentional to show how it feels within something as awful as that) and if I've portrayed it in a manner that seems as if I'm taking the subject lightly, I'd love to know what you mean and in what way so I can tell how to fix it? (This is all in my pursuit of better writing, I do sincerely appreciate the constructive criticism and your comment [| :) )

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