The Unwritten Journal of Alice: A Journey Through the Looking Glass

April 10th

I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve never been one to keep a journal, but something feels different today. The air is thick with an energy I can’t quite describe, almost as if I’m teetering on the edge of something—something big. Perhaps it’s the way the world seems to be shifting, or how I find myself staring at things longer than I should, wondering if I really see them at all. Sometimes, I think I might be going mad. But then again, who isn’t?

I’ve been walking through the garden, following the twists and turns of the hedges. I don’t know why I’m here, or even how I ended up. I know I should go back inside, but something keeps drawing me further in. The flowers keep whispering, as though they’re trying to tell me something, but the words never quite reach my ears.

April 11th

I met someone today. Well, more like something. It was a rabbit. A rabbit with a waistcoat, and a pocket watch. Can you believe it? He looked at me and muttered about being “late, late, for an important date.” He didn’t even seem to notice me at first, just hurried along like a clock ticking away his last moments.

I followed him, of course. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never been one to let curiosity go unfulfilled. As I trailed behind, I found myself slipping through a door hidden in the garden’s wall. It was a small door, too small for even a child, and yet—there it was. It opened without a sound, and I slipped through, no questions asked.

Now, I’m in a room of doors. Tiny, large, some locked, others wide open. How is this possible? What is going on? The walls seem to pulse with strange energy. The more I think about it, the more I realize that nothing here makes sense.

April 12th

I’ve been here longer than I thought. Time bends in this strange land. I think I’ve met every odd character that resides in Wonderland. There was the Cheshire Cat, who showed me how to disappear and reappear at will, though he never explained why or how.

The Queen of Hearts, with her endless shouting of "Off with their heads!" is impossible to ignore, but she seems more like a dream than a person. Every time she gets close, I try to move away, but I always seem to be where she is—just out of reach, but always within sight.

And then there’s the Mad Hatter. His mind, as unsteady as a teacup in the wind, seems to be held together by nothing more than his whimsical ideas. Every conversation we have feels like a dream within a dream. How does one hold onto reason when there is none to hold onto?

April 13th

Today, I had the most peculiar conversation with the Doorknob. Yes, the doorknob itself. I asked it how to get back home, but it just chuckled and said, "You can’t go home if you’ve never left."

I was furious at the time. What did it mean? How can you not leave a place if you’re trying to get back to where you belong? But as I thought about it, I started to realize that perhaps I wasn’t looking at the right door after all.

There are so many doors here, but none of them seem to lead back to what I once knew. I think that’s the point, isn’t it? Wonderland isn’t a place you go to, it’s a place you enter within yourself. A place where your thoughts and fears take on physical forms. The more I explore, the more I understand that I must confront myself before I can leave.

April 14th

I came across a curious thing today. A mirror. It stood against a wall in a forgotten corner of the garden. For a long time, I simply stared at it. It was different from any mirror I’ve ever seen—it didn’t reflect the world around me, but rather me. My reflection seemed to move independently, its expression shifting from one of curiosity to an unsettling grin.

When I stepped closer, the reflection tilted its head. I did the same. Then it winked.

I wish I could explain what it felt like, but words can’t capture the feeling of being both you and not-you at once.

"Do you see it yet?" the reflection asked, its voice a soft whisper. "You’re already lost, Alice."

I ran away from it. Of course I did.

April 15th

The days here blur together. I’ve learned not to ask how much time has passed—there is no answer, and I don’t think I really want one. I’ve become so tangled in the strange rhythm of this world, I don’t know if I’ll ever leave. But in a way, I don’t think I need to.

There are times when I feel like I’m on the verge of understanding something deeper—something about myself, maybe. The Mad Hatter’s words keep echoing in my mind: "We’re all mad here, Alice. Don’t you see? You’ve been mad all along."

What if he’s right? What if I’ve been living my life through someone else’s rules? What if this Wonderland isn’t a place at all, but the labyrinth of my own mind?

April 16th

I found the White Rabbit again today. He was muttering to himself about being "late for tea." The words made me smile—how absurd it all seems. But then, as he glanced at me, I noticed something. His eyes weren’t just frantic—they were filled with an emotion I couldn’t name.

"Can’t go back, can we?" he said.

I paused.

"Back to where?" I asked.

"Back to what we were," he answered. "Once you’ve seen the world like this, you can’t unsee it. You’re already on a path, Alice. You’ve always been on it."

He didn’t wait for me to respond, hurrying off toward some other unseen destination. But his words stuck with me. What if the world I left behind no longer exists? What if, like the Rabbit, I’m bound to this place of my own making?

April 17th

Today, I stumbled upon something I wasn’t prepared for. A party. A grand, chaotic tea party hosted by the Mad Hatter, of course. Everything was upside down—cups spilling over with tea, plates of scones that never seemed to disappear, and a clock that ticked backward.

I was invited, though I’m not sure by whom. It seems like everyone here invites you, but also never quite expects you to stay. I sat down, my mind spinning as the conversation spiraled between riddles and nonsense. But then, something strange happened.

The room went quiet.

All the characters I’d met—Cheshire Cat, White Rabbit, Queen of Hearts—stood in a circle around me. I felt a heavy weight settle on my chest, as though the very air in the room had changed.

“Alice,” the Cheshire Cat spoke softly, his smile nowhere to be found. “The question is not how you leave, but what you’ll take with you.”

April 18th

I woke up in my bed this morning.

I’m not sure how I got here, but I’m back. Wonderland, it seems, was nothing more than a dream. Or was it? As I sit here, writing this, I’m not sure if it was real or just a figment of my imagination. The world around me seems dull, almost too quiet.

I hear whispers of the wind, the faint murmur of flowers in the garden. And the ticking of a clock. I smile to myself. Perhaps I never truly left.

And so, Alice closed her journal, wondering if perhaps she was still in Wonderland. Or maybe Wonderland had never left her.