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For all you idiots who cant tell that a story is a story:
No character is based on any person, living, dead, or somewhere in between.
This is only even TENTATIVELY based on Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, unless you've read a very different version than I have.
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Years ago, a girl named Alice Liddel fell into wonderland.
It was a land that was nonsense, and most regard the story, which was told in a book, as a work of fiction. And for some, perhaps it is.
Still, It doesnt matter if you dont believe in something, especially if it believes in you.
I, a realitivly young boy, am going to find out something about my family that has been hidden for a couple hundred years, the tale of my great-great grandparents, and all generations after them.
And this story begins not with my grandmother's looking glass, but with a rather large shovel.
In my face.
THWACK I felt my nose crumple and my body fall as the metal came into contact with my face. At eighteen I look big, but thats about it, and the six guys around me didnt look like they were going to leave me alive. And then I didnt think anything else, because my head hit the ground and knocked me unconcious.
No, thats not how I get into the messed up world Im in.... Im getting there okay?
I wake up in a hospital, apparently my face is messed up because I can feel gauze on my face, and I can hear my mother talking in the background.
"How could something like this have happened? I thought that we'd be safer here than in-" she says, just before my dad cuts her off.
"Its getting close to his time Red, you know its going to happen soon..."
My dad is descended from Alice Liddel, if you didnt know. Grandma was friends with Mr. Carroll, and he based his book off of one of her 'dreams'. Not to speak ill of my grandmother, but I thought that her dreams dealt more with the hookah that she smoked from more than her imagination.
My mom doesnt really talk about her past, and the only things Ive noticed that she talks about are how hard it is to "be a commoner" and that if she ruled, "All these idiots would be a head shorter."
Im told I take more after my mom than my dad, as we have the same blue black hair and ivory skin, but Im also told that I have the "Liddel Eyes", a color thats so green that you'd think it belongs on a cat. Yeah, you'd think that growing up around a story would've made me question some things, wouldnt you?
My mom sounded close to tears, something I rarely see- and hope never to. Still, as soon as I tried to open my eyes, I absently realized that I was so doped up on painkillers that I couldnt even think straight. Slowly I began to doze, catching strange snippets like "That damned Rabbit" and "Why couldnt that Cat come get him" from my mother, and my dad calming her down. As my dozing drew closer to true sleep, words and images began to slur and again I fell into darkness, but this time there was a little tune, like a humming.....
 Azzy Rael · Thu Nov 19, 2009 @ 02:43am · 0 Comments |
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