Excerpt From Meditations In Wonderland: Alice's Warning
The following excerpt is from chapter two of Meditations In Wonderland, available early October:
Just before the figure was able to completely round the corner, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of a blue dress trailing behind a figure with blonde hair. For a moment, the sky blue fabric seemed to catch on a rogue splinter hiding on the wall, as Alice tried to round the corner. Elizabeth watched the fab- ric rip ever so slightly as Alice freed herself, and her footsteps once again echoed in the hallway of the marble labyrinth that surrounded them.
Elizabeth stood fixed on the white marble tile with one arm stretched out toward Alice, but Alice would not turn to face her.
“Alice!” she shouted. Her voice pierced through the sound of scuffling, as she broke into a run again. She called after her again, her voice shrill to the point of cracking, as she lost herself deeper within the labyrinth. “Please wait, Alice!” she begged, her voice labored.
Alice’s pace did not slow, and neither did Elizabeth’s.
“I’m lost! Alice, I’m lost! I need your help!” she shouted, nearly losing her footing as she slid across the smooth surface of the tile.
With the bang of a door, the sound of quickened footfalls in the distance stopped.
Alice disappeared, leaving Elizabeth at the end of a hall- way. She found herself facing another corridor, with nothing but a white side table and a large black door at the opposite end. Even though she was alone when she reached the bottom of the rabbit hole, the loneliness she felt now took another, more sinister form. It was as if she could only hear one note of her favorite song, or as if she was lost in the desert and could see a plane flying far overhead.
Elizabeth’s breaths became shallow as isolation gripped her. She stood frozen in the spot where she had watched Alice disappear.
“Alice!” she screamed. “Alice, can you hear me? Please stop, Alice! I know it’s you, I know who you are!”
She heard only the echo of her own voice, repeating her words back to her in a fading chorus, Alice! Alice! Alice! Know who you are! Who you are!
How could she just disappear?
Everything she knew of reality and logic slowly slipped through her fingers, like sand in an hourglass. She reached down to touch the small nail that jutted ever so slightly out of the wall, on which Alice’s dress had snagged. Several fibers of the blue dress were still caught on the nail, and Elizabeth ran her fingers over the light blue threads, as if they were something both precious and familiar.
Regaining her senses, the desperation of being alone gripped her throat once again. She raced toward the door. When she stood before it, she cautiously reached for the doorknob, but her outstretched fingers slid right through it. She saw her fingertips faintly on the other side of the door, as if she had reached her hand through a cloud. Her heart sank into her stomach, and the thought of losing Alice held her mind captive.
How could I have lost her? Oh, God. Please don’t leave me alone!
“Breathe, just breathe,” she reminded herself. “If Alice got through this door, then there must be a way out for me.”
Scanning her surroundings for another way out and refus- ing to succumb to the dark fear welling up inside of her, her eyes suddenly found the small, white table that sat just a few feet to her right, which she had passed on the way to the door.
She approached the table. There was nothing on its sur- face, but inside of the top drawer, Elizabeth found a small, white compact with pink borders stamped across its sides. She picked it up and stashed it in her back pocket, carefully and without opening it. Beneath it she found a letter with the words OPEN ME handwritten on the front. The letters came together in a unique cursive that bent together like tree branches, beckoning her into their welcoming arms.
As she held the letter in her wet palms she could feel the beating of her heart inside her chest. It hummed along with the sound of a distant clock, both emitting a beat like a war drum—a harsh reminder of her seclusion and that Alice was getting farther and farther away.
She tore at the letter’s seams and extracted the folded paper inside, which read:
So, you want to see my world?
Look around you. Honestly, did you really think that you were going to come and do a little sightseeing? There are no maps down here, but I’ll tell you what one would look like if such a thing existed. What you see around you is the white, tender underbelly of the subconscious. This is where all of the skeletons, ghosts, and demons hidden in your closet and up your sleeve come to tuck them- selves in at night. And don’t think for a second that they’ll be easy to spot, because everyone wears a mask here. And you do, too, gor- geous, even if you don’t think so. I’m not the one who looks in the mirror and then quickly looks away.
No, this isn’t rock bottom. I’ve been to rock bottom, and I’ll tell you something about it that no one ever talks about—down there it’s finally quiet.
So I’ll let you in on a little secret before you find yourself hope- lessly lost in the depths of your own subconscious that you’ve fallen into. There aren’t any cute little white rabbits for you to follow around, and there are no refreshments or frosted cookies that turn you into something else, or someone you’re not.
When you were casually meandering down the rabbit hole, I was the one who screamed at you to run, but you didn’t listen to me. That’s about to change. There’s something that you need to know about this place before you start following your intuitive whims instead of following my advice: You created this place. You created everything in it, and you have the free will to change and create anything you please, if you can figure out how. And when you were thinking earlier, “Oh, God. Why me?” I would like to remind you that you wanted to come here. You came here yourself. You let yourself in.
And yes, the rumors are true. Everyone here is mad. Therefore, I’m mad, too.
Welcome to Wonderland—catch me if you can, bitch.
—Alice
Just before the figure was able to completely round the corner, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of a blue dress trailing behind a figure with blonde hair. For a moment, the sky blue fabric seemed to catch on a rogue splinter hiding on the wall, as Alice tried to round the corner. Elizabeth watched the fab- ric rip ever so slightly as Alice freed herself, and her footsteps once again echoed in the hallway of the marble labyrinth that surrounded them.
Elizabeth stood fixed on the white marble tile with one arm stretched out toward Alice, but Alice would not turn to face her.
“Alice!” she shouted. Her voice pierced through the sound of scuffling, as she broke into a run again. She called after her again, her voice shrill to the point of cracking, as she lost herself deeper within the labyrinth. “Please wait, Alice!” she begged, her voice labored.
Alice’s pace did not slow, and neither did Elizabeth’s.
“I’m lost! Alice, I’m lost! I need your help!” she shouted, nearly losing her footing as she slid across the smooth surface of the tile.
With the bang of a door, the sound of quickened footfalls in the distance stopped.
Alice disappeared, leaving Elizabeth at the end of a hall- way. She found herself facing another corridor, with nothing but a white side table and a large black door at the opposite end. Even though she was alone when she reached the bottom of the rabbit hole, the loneliness she felt now took another, more sinister form. It was as if she could only hear one note of her favorite song, or as if she was lost in the desert and could see a plane flying far overhead.
Elizabeth’s breaths became shallow as isolation gripped her. She stood frozen in the spot where she had watched Alice disappear.
“Alice!” she screamed. “Alice, can you hear me? Please stop, Alice! I know it’s you, I know who you are!”
She heard only the echo of her own voice, repeating her words back to her in a fading chorus, Alice! Alice! Alice! Know who you are! Who you are!
How could she just disappear?
Everything she knew of reality and logic slowly slipped through her fingers, like sand in an hourglass. She reached down to touch the small nail that jutted ever so slightly out of the wall, on which Alice’s dress had snagged. Several fibers of the blue dress were still caught on the nail, and Elizabeth ran her fingers over the light blue threads, as if they were something both precious and familiar.
Regaining her senses, the desperation of being alone gripped her throat once again. She raced toward the door. When she stood before it, she cautiously reached for the doorknob, but her outstretched fingers slid right through it. She saw her fingertips faintly on the other side of the door, as if she had reached her hand through a cloud. Her heart sank into her stomach, and the thought of losing Alice held her mind captive.
How could I have lost her? Oh, God. Please don’t leave me alone!
“Breathe, just breathe,” she reminded herself. “If Alice got through this door, then there must be a way out for me.”
Scanning her surroundings for another way out and refus- ing to succumb to the dark fear welling up inside of her, her eyes suddenly found the small, white table that sat just a few feet to her right, which she had passed on the way to the door.
She approached the table. There was nothing on its sur- face, but inside of the top drawer, Elizabeth found a small, white compact with pink borders stamped across its sides. She picked it up and stashed it in her back pocket, carefully and without opening it. Beneath it she found a letter with the words OPEN ME handwritten on the front. The letters came together in a unique cursive that bent together like tree branches, beckoning her into their welcoming arms.
As she held the letter in her wet palms she could feel the beating of her heart inside her chest. It hummed along with the sound of a distant clock, both emitting a beat like a war drum—a harsh reminder of her seclusion and that Alice was getting farther and farther away.
She tore at the letter’s seams and extracted the folded paper inside, which read:
So, you want to see my world?
Look around you. Honestly, did you really think that you were going to come and do a little sightseeing? There are no maps down here, but I’ll tell you what one would look like if such a thing existed. What you see around you is the white, tender underbelly of the subconscious. This is where all of the skeletons, ghosts, and demons hidden in your closet and up your sleeve come to tuck them- selves in at night. And don’t think for a second that they’ll be easy to spot, because everyone wears a mask here. And you do, too, gor- geous, even if you don’t think so. I’m not the one who looks in the mirror and then quickly looks away.
No, this isn’t rock bottom. I’ve been to rock bottom, and I’ll tell you something about it that no one ever talks about—down there it’s finally quiet.
So I’ll let you in on a little secret before you find yourself hope- lessly lost in the depths of your own subconscious that you’ve fallen into. There aren’t any cute little white rabbits for you to follow around, and there are no refreshments or frosted cookies that turn you into something else, or someone you’re not.
When you were casually meandering down the rabbit hole, I was the one who screamed at you to run, but you didn’t listen to me. That’s about to change. There’s something that you need to know about this place before you start following your intuitive whims instead of following my advice: You created this place. You created everything in it, and you have the free will to change and create anything you please, if you can figure out how. And when you were thinking earlier, “Oh, God. Why me?” I would like to remind you that you wanted to come here. You came here yourself. You let yourself in.
And yes, the rumors are true. Everyone here is mad. Therefore, I’m mad, too.
Welcome to Wonderland—catch me if you can, bitch.
—Alice
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