Hidden Alice (Part Two)
Title: Hidden Alice (Part Two)
Link to Part Three: (Part Three)
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Part Two
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There was once a boy who lived a very un-exciting life.
He was usually bored, except when he played with his brother. His brother believed him when others didn’t. His brother believed him when he pointed out strange talking animals that should never have been. His brother believed him when talked about other lands, parallel universes, worlds he could visit in his dreams. And his brother even believed him that day in the park when he pointed at those two little boys who didn’t look like boys to him at all. Well, they should have, but they didn’t. He wondered if his brother was patronizing him when he went to talk to those creatures. Yes. He called them ‘creatures’. There was no other way he could describe them. They didn’t look human, but they didn’t look like animals either. What were they supposed to be? He had given up on thinking that he was dreaming a long time ago.
Once he had actually talked to one of them. A little bird who talked with him. The bird had come to their house; it had been sitting on the ledge outside his bedroom. He had walked up to it and asked, “Who are you?”
The bird had looked at him strangely, “Who’s to say I’m a bird?”
“Then what are you?” The boy had smiled, this couldn’t be real, but even if it was a dream, it was a pleasant one.
“I’m a cat.” He couldn’t believe it. Was the bird grinning at him?
“No, you’re a bird.” The boy shook his head, “I can see that. I can see that you’re a bird!”
“I’m a cat.” The bird had replied, “I’m a cat looking for a rabbit. Have you seen one?”
“What kind of a cat are you? You have wings… and… you’re a bird!” The boy had exclaimed as he pushed his glasses up - they always kept sliding off- and reached out with his other hand to touch the bird. The bird didn’t move.
“In human terms, I would be what you would call a ‘raven’. Do you still believe that I’m a bird?” Its grin grew wider.
“I don’t know what a raven is, but you’re definitely a bird.” The boy was adamant, and he was going to make this bird admit it, the bird was a bird!
“I take it you haven’t seen my friend.” The bird looked like it was about to leave. It was hard to tell in the darkness of the night, but it was slowly stretching its wings.
“Wait! Will I see you again?”
The bird just grinned at him. It slowly started to disappear. First its wing, then its body, they all started to fade until all that was left was its head. It was still grinning and it was that grin that was left with the boy when he woke up next morning with a crudely done painting of the bird on his writing desk.
He got into trouble that day. His parents were very angry with him. The colors would simply not come off. It was as if it was embedded on that writing desk, a picture of a raven. He wondered if it was all really a dream. But his brother told him that it was real. If he believed it was real, then it had to be real. And he smiled back at it his brother. At least someone believed him.
But then came that day in the park. That day when his brother believed him again, and went to talk to those two boys. The day when he never came back. He didn’t know why he had followed them; he wanted to scream out to him, to tell him to come back. But he wanted his brother to see too. The taller boy looked very much like a rabbit to him, and maybe his brother could see it too. Then his brother would really believe him. But his brother followed the boy with the rabbit ears, and he didn’t come back.
The next day his mother was furious - who was he talking to? Why hadn’t his brother returned? So many things happened that he couldn’t keep up. People came, strange people, police officers, there were condolences. People had searched for his brother all over the place but no one could find him and whenever anyone asked him what had happened, he had the same reply, “He followed the boy with rabbit ears.”
No one believed him of course. So he started to lie. He said he didn’t remember. But he did remember. He remembered every time he saw those creatures, he remembered every time he saw that picture of a raven on his writing desk.
As the years passed by, he learnt to cope. He had decent grades in school; he never really tried to stand out. He didn’t want to stand out. Soon he was majoring in English, reading the old classics, believing in the stories they held. There were two things he was really good at. The first was writing, he had learnt over the years to describe the things he saw down to every little detail. He also enjoyed painting. He had painted dozens of white rabbits since that day. And he had one dream - to see that white rabbit again, to make him give him back his brother. To make him give him back the past he was never allowed to have.
These were the thoughts that floated through his mind as he sat on the ledge of his bedroom, the same ledge the ‘cat’ had perched itself on seventeen years ago. He wondered if doing this was the right thing. But nothing came to mind. What else was he supposed to do? He had searched for his brother everywhere. But the official records said that he was dead. A kidnapping with no ransom. The case was never closed and once the police realized that they didn’t have any answers, they just gave up. His parents gave up too, though from time to time he could see his mother looking at a picture of his brother and crying. Where was he? What had happened to him?
He traced his left hand across the ledge, stopping right at the edge. It was a dangerous idea to keep an open ledge in a child’s window. He wondered what had gone through his parents’ mind when they had put it there. Nothing meant anything to him, nothing mattered to him. He was bored. There was nothing more life could give him. Not this life anyway. But he had dreams, dreams of another world. Another world where he could see the bird again, a world where he would find that rabbit. And he would kill it. He had imagined the scenarios so many times in his mind, he already felt like a killer. But if he couldn’t do it in this world, then he would just have to find another world. And with that faith, he jumped.
~~~
The wind felt harsh against his skin. He waited for the impact. His eyes were closed; he was too scared to open them. He didn’t want to see himself crash. But the impact never came. He opened his eyes. He was surrounded by something black. That was the best way he could describe it. It looked like he was falling through a void. He was falling, just falling. He reached out, maybe he could touch something? The blackness seemed so close, but there was nothing to touch. He half-thought that his eyes were still closed but he knew for a fact that he had opened them. So this was what death felt like? He smiled; it was a pleasant and painless experience. Everyone should try dying sometime.
“Watch out!” He turned his head in the direction the noise had come from. He wasn’t falling anymore. He wasn’t even sure if he was ever falling.
“That was quite a landing.” A sarcastic voice greeted him as he opened his eyes.
“The sky’s still blue.”
“What did you expect it to be? Green?” The boy was looking at him with curiosity, “Who are you?”
“Dead.”
“Well the sky’s not going to die anytime soon. Tough luck.” He turned towards the voice. What was that? A boy with a bunny hat?
“I meant I’m dead.”
”Like I said, tough luck. Though you could’ve picked a better spot to land. The Hatter isn’t going to be too pleased about what you did to his table.” He leant back and closed his eyes. What table?
“Are you going to keep lying there?” The boy was looking down at him, curiously, “Where’s the White Rabbit?”
“Who?” He coughed, something was hurting his back. He tried to turn where he was lying. A small drop and he was on the ground. So that was what the bunny-boy was talking about. The table had a nice crack along its length. Well, whoever the Hatter was would have to deal with it somehow. Right now he couldn’t be bothered. The afterlife was beginning to look like what someone having a bad acid trip might have dreamt up.
“You’re Alice right? You were supposed to come with the White Rabbit. So,” the boy looked around, as if expecting someone to come out of the woods, “Where is he?”
“No idea.” He got up on his feet, and started to view the new world around him, “Is this where all the dead come to?”
“Eh?” The boy was staring at him, “You didn’t come with the White Rabbit did you?”
“Who are you?” The world really looked twisted. The trees were curved into bizarre angles, the sky was a strange shade of blue, and that he couldn’t describe. The flowers gave off an unusually strong scent - he could smell them from where he was standing. And the house next to him… it had no doors. How was anyone supposed to get inside? Climb in through the windows?
A raven flew down to sit on the table, “Why, hello again.” It grinned.
“The cat.” He muttered, not very pleased to see it again. He had grown accustomed to believing that ravens were a sign of bad luck. Over the years, every time he had spotted one something or the other had gone wrong. An accident in front of him - a woman crushed under bus, a robbery gone wrong, or if was having a particularly good streak of luck, then it was just a cat staring strangely at him.
“So I’m not a bird anymore?” The raven was grinning again.
And right before his eyes, the raven started to disappear. Soon it was just a head and that curved itself into a ball. Right before his eyes there was a small kitty. It grew and grew until it was a large cat. It licked its paws and stared innocently at him.
“You just love to show off don’t you?” said the ‘bunny-boy’.
“As do you March Hare.” The cat then turned to him, “And I’m the Cheshire Cat, we finally meet Alice.”
“Alice?” He raised an eyebrow, “Are you gender confused?”
The cat grinned widely, now he looked just creepy according to him, “All newcomers to this world must replace another. And since Alice just disappeared, you must be the new Alice.”
“Huh?” ‘Alice stared blankly at the cat.
“No! Stop! He hasn’t met the White Rabbit! So that means the White Rabbit didn’t bring him. He can’t be Alice unless he was brought here…” The March Hare was cut off in mid-sentence.
“I’m sure your little friend has more errands to run. So I made sure that ‘Alice’ got here. Why, don’t you think he looks like the previous Alice? In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that they were almost related.”
“The previous Alice?” He turned to look at the March Hare. He wouldn’t remember now, no he shouldn’t remember now. But that boy looked a lot like… no he must be imagining it. He must be lying in a coma somewhere and dreaming it all up. He supposed that that was what happened when your suicide attempt went wrong. So as long as he was in a coma that meant that it was his dream. Well at least things were beginning to make sense now.
“I think you knew him, our previous Alice.”
“You’re not supposed to…” The March Hare started but the Cheshire Cat interrupted him again, “I imagine you knew him really well.”
The sound of a creaky window opening drew his attention back towards the house, a man was climbing out of the window, “You’re back? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching for you? Where did you run off to?” He was tall, had black hair that curved as strangely as the trees and his eyes looked sickly. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days and his clothes smelled like he hadn’t taken a bath in months.
“Who are you?” ‘Alice’ was beginning to get tired of all the new people he kept meeting. He wasn’t a very social person back when he was alive, and he saw no reason to be social now that he was in a coma.
“Me?” The man gave him a strange look, “I’m the Hatter.”
“Oh.” ‘Alice’ turned back to the Cheshire Cat, “So far I’ve met a boy with a ‘bunny’ hat” - “Hey those are my real ears” - a raven that turns into a cat - “My pleasure”- and a man who seems to know me very well. If that’s all, can I go now?” He yawned, clearly bored with the scenario.
“Go? Go where? If the White Rabbit finds you, he’ll kill you!” The March Hare shouted
“Oh he can, can he? Not if I kill him first.”
“That’s the spirit.” The Cheshire Cat gave him a genuine smile, “That’s what we expect out of you.”
“You’re not Alice!” The Hatter was now standing in front of him, “Well, not the old Alice anyway. But I suppose you still are Alice…”
“Not until the White Rabbit declares it.” The Cheshire Cat was looking serious, “And I suppose he will be back in a few days, you can stay with the Hatter till then.”
“Wait. No I won’t…” But the Cheshire Cat had begun to disappear, and with each word ‘Alice’ spoke, he grew less and less fainter until soon he was gone altogether.
Link to Part Three: (Part Three)
~~~
Part Two
~~~
There was once a boy who lived a very un-exciting life.
He was usually bored, except when he played with his brother. His brother believed him when others didn’t. His brother believed him when he pointed out strange talking animals that should never have been. His brother believed him when talked about other lands, parallel universes, worlds he could visit in his dreams. And his brother even believed him that day in the park when he pointed at those two little boys who didn’t look like boys to him at all. Well, they should have, but they didn’t. He wondered if his brother was patronizing him when he went to talk to those creatures. Yes. He called them ‘creatures’. There was no other way he could describe them. They didn’t look human, but they didn’t look like animals either. What were they supposed to be? He had given up on thinking that he was dreaming a long time ago.
Once he had actually talked to one of them. A little bird who talked with him. The bird had come to their house; it had been sitting on the ledge outside his bedroom. He had walked up to it and asked, “Who are you?”
The bird had looked at him strangely, “Who’s to say I’m a bird?”
“Then what are you?” The boy had smiled, this couldn’t be real, but even if it was a dream, it was a pleasant one.
“I’m a cat.” He couldn’t believe it. Was the bird grinning at him?
“No, you’re a bird.” The boy shook his head, “I can see that. I can see that you’re a bird!”
“I’m a cat.” The bird had replied, “I’m a cat looking for a rabbit. Have you seen one?”
“What kind of a cat are you? You have wings… and… you’re a bird!” The boy had exclaimed as he pushed his glasses up - they always kept sliding off- and reached out with his other hand to touch the bird. The bird didn’t move.
“In human terms, I would be what you would call a ‘raven’. Do you still believe that I’m a bird?” Its grin grew wider.
“I don’t know what a raven is, but you’re definitely a bird.” The boy was adamant, and he was going to make this bird admit it, the bird was a bird!
“I take it you haven’t seen my friend.” The bird looked like it was about to leave. It was hard to tell in the darkness of the night, but it was slowly stretching its wings.
“Wait! Will I see you again?”
The bird just grinned at him. It slowly started to disappear. First its wing, then its body, they all started to fade until all that was left was its head. It was still grinning and it was that grin that was left with the boy when he woke up next morning with a crudely done painting of the bird on his writing desk.
He got into trouble that day. His parents were very angry with him. The colors would simply not come off. It was as if it was embedded on that writing desk, a picture of a raven. He wondered if it was all really a dream. But his brother told him that it was real. If he believed it was real, then it had to be real. And he smiled back at it his brother. At least someone believed him.
But then came that day in the park. That day when his brother believed him again, and went to talk to those two boys. The day when he never came back. He didn’t know why he had followed them; he wanted to scream out to him, to tell him to come back. But he wanted his brother to see too. The taller boy looked very much like a rabbit to him, and maybe his brother could see it too. Then his brother would really believe him. But his brother followed the boy with the rabbit ears, and he didn’t come back.
The next day his mother was furious - who was he talking to? Why hadn’t his brother returned? So many things happened that he couldn’t keep up. People came, strange people, police officers, there were condolences. People had searched for his brother all over the place but no one could find him and whenever anyone asked him what had happened, he had the same reply, “He followed the boy with rabbit ears.”
No one believed him of course. So he started to lie. He said he didn’t remember. But he did remember. He remembered every time he saw those creatures, he remembered every time he saw that picture of a raven on his writing desk.
As the years passed by, he learnt to cope. He had decent grades in school; he never really tried to stand out. He didn’t want to stand out. Soon he was majoring in English, reading the old classics, believing in the stories they held. There were two things he was really good at. The first was writing, he had learnt over the years to describe the things he saw down to every little detail. He also enjoyed painting. He had painted dozens of white rabbits since that day. And he had one dream - to see that white rabbit again, to make him give him back his brother. To make him give him back the past he was never allowed to have.
These were the thoughts that floated through his mind as he sat on the ledge of his bedroom, the same ledge the ‘cat’ had perched itself on seventeen years ago. He wondered if doing this was the right thing. But nothing came to mind. What else was he supposed to do? He had searched for his brother everywhere. But the official records said that he was dead. A kidnapping with no ransom. The case was never closed and once the police realized that they didn’t have any answers, they just gave up. His parents gave up too, though from time to time he could see his mother looking at a picture of his brother and crying. Where was he? What had happened to him?
He traced his left hand across the ledge, stopping right at the edge. It was a dangerous idea to keep an open ledge in a child’s window. He wondered what had gone through his parents’ mind when they had put it there. Nothing meant anything to him, nothing mattered to him. He was bored. There was nothing more life could give him. Not this life anyway. But he had dreams, dreams of another world. Another world where he could see the bird again, a world where he would find that rabbit. And he would kill it. He had imagined the scenarios so many times in his mind, he already felt like a killer. But if he couldn’t do it in this world, then he would just have to find another world. And with that faith, he jumped.
~~~
The wind felt harsh against his skin. He waited for the impact. His eyes were closed; he was too scared to open them. He didn’t want to see himself crash. But the impact never came. He opened his eyes. He was surrounded by something black. That was the best way he could describe it. It looked like he was falling through a void. He was falling, just falling. He reached out, maybe he could touch something? The blackness seemed so close, but there was nothing to touch. He half-thought that his eyes were still closed but he knew for a fact that he had opened them. So this was what death felt like? He smiled; it was a pleasant and painless experience. Everyone should try dying sometime.
“Watch out!” He turned his head in the direction the noise had come from. He wasn’t falling anymore. He wasn’t even sure if he was ever falling.
“That was quite a landing.” A sarcastic voice greeted him as he opened his eyes.
“The sky’s still blue.”
“What did you expect it to be? Green?” The boy was looking at him with curiosity, “Who are you?”
“Dead.”
“Well the sky’s not going to die anytime soon. Tough luck.” He turned towards the voice. What was that? A boy with a bunny hat?
“I meant I’m dead.”
”Like I said, tough luck. Though you could’ve picked a better spot to land. The Hatter isn’t going to be too pleased about what you did to his table.” He leant back and closed his eyes. What table?
“Are you going to keep lying there?” The boy was looking down at him, curiously, “Where’s the White Rabbit?”
“Who?” He coughed, something was hurting his back. He tried to turn where he was lying. A small drop and he was on the ground. So that was what the bunny-boy was talking about. The table had a nice crack along its length. Well, whoever the Hatter was would have to deal with it somehow. Right now he couldn’t be bothered. The afterlife was beginning to look like what someone having a bad acid trip might have dreamt up.
“You’re Alice right? You were supposed to come with the White Rabbit. So,” the boy looked around, as if expecting someone to come out of the woods, “Where is he?”
“No idea.” He got up on his feet, and started to view the new world around him, “Is this where all the dead come to?”
“Eh?” The boy was staring at him, “You didn’t come with the White Rabbit did you?”
“Who are you?” The world really looked twisted. The trees were curved into bizarre angles, the sky was a strange shade of blue, and that he couldn’t describe. The flowers gave off an unusually strong scent - he could smell them from where he was standing. And the house next to him… it had no doors. How was anyone supposed to get inside? Climb in through the windows?
A raven flew down to sit on the table, “Why, hello again.” It grinned.
“The cat.” He muttered, not very pleased to see it again. He had grown accustomed to believing that ravens were a sign of bad luck. Over the years, every time he had spotted one something or the other had gone wrong. An accident in front of him - a woman crushed under bus, a robbery gone wrong, or if was having a particularly good streak of luck, then it was just a cat staring strangely at him.
“So I’m not a bird anymore?” The raven was grinning again.
And right before his eyes, the raven started to disappear. Soon it was just a head and that curved itself into a ball. Right before his eyes there was a small kitty. It grew and grew until it was a large cat. It licked its paws and stared innocently at him.
“You just love to show off don’t you?” said the ‘bunny-boy’.
“As do you March Hare.” The cat then turned to him, “And I’m the Cheshire Cat, we finally meet Alice.”
“Alice?” He raised an eyebrow, “Are you gender confused?”
The cat grinned widely, now he looked just creepy according to him, “All newcomers to this world must replace another. And since Alice just disappeared, you must be the new Alice.”
“Huh?” ‘Alice stared blankly at the cat.
“No! Stop! He hasn’t met the White Rabbit! So that means the White Rabbit didn’t bring him. He can’t be Alice unless he was brought here…” The March Hare was cut off in mid-sentence.
“I’m sure your little friend has more errands to run. So I made sure that ‘Alice’ got here. Why, don’t you think he looks like the previous Alice? In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that they were almost related.”
“The previous Alice?” He turned to look at the March Hare. He wouldn’t remember now, no he shouldn’t remember now. But that boy looked a lot like… no he must be imagining it. He must be lying in a coma somewhere and dreaming it all up. He supposed that that was what happened when your suicide attempt went wrong. So as long as he was in a coma that meant that it was his dream. Well at least things were beginning to make sense now.
“I think you knew him, our previous Alice.”
“You’re not supposed to…” The March Hare started but the Cheshire Cat interrupted him again, “I imagine you knew him really well.”
The sound of a creaky window opening drew his attention back towards the house, a man was climbing out of the window, “You’re back? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching for you? Where did you run off to?” He was tall, had black hair that curved as strangely as the trees and his eyes looked sickly. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days and his clothes smelled like he hadn’t taken a bath in months.
“Who are you?” ‘Alice’ was beginning to get tired of all the new people he kept meeting. He wasn’t a very social person back when he was alive, and he saw no reason to be social now that he was in a coma.
“Me?” The man gave him a strange look, “I’m the Hatter.”
“Oh.” ‘Alice’ turned back to the Cheshire Cat, “So far I’ve met a boy with a ‘bunny’ hat” - “Hey those are my real ears” - a raven that turns into a cat - “My pleasure”- and a man who seems to know me very well. If that’s all, can I go now?” He yawned, clearly bored with the scenario.
“Go? Go where? If the White Rabbit finds you, he’ll kill you!” The March Hare shouted
“Oh he can, can he? Not if I kill him first.”
“That’s the spirit.” The Cheshire Cat gave him a genuine smile, “That’s what we expect out of you.”
“You’re not Alice!” The Hatter was now standing in front of him, “Well, not the old Alice anyway. But I suppose you still are Alice…”
“Not until the White Rabbit declares it.” The Cheshire Cat was looking serious, “And I suppose he will be back in a few days, you can stay with the Hatter till then.”
“Wait. No I won’t…” But the Cheshire Cat had begun to disappear, and with each word ‘Alice’ spoke, he grew less and less fainter until soon he was gone altogether.