A/N: For every story, there are actually three sides. The villian, the harmed, and the witness. This is the witness' tale.


He twitched.

I told the Queen and I told the Dormouse but I mostly told myself every night how he twitched. You couldn't say certain words or else the twitching would start. It wasn't dramatic and it wasn't serious, but it was noticeable and it scared me to death.

It started with his hands. I only saw this from how his tea would shake and the sugar would spill back into the bowl. I wasn't sure what was happening, but he didn't say anything and neither did I. Then it was his left eye, his cheek raising and his brow meeting with it. None could deny that, no matter how late it was or how illuminated their minds were.

Soon, he would fidget with the napkins all the while his twitching was happening. He'd smile, then frown, then smile, then frown, and it would go on for several minutes. But I didn't ask.

Then she showed up.

I noticed the moment she showed her pretty little face he had a fit. It was only for a second, but his whole body shook and he let out a long deep laugh. From there, he changed. His eyes were wild and his tongue lagged out and his every move was a jump or a spurt. I tried to follow him just so he didn't look like a fool, but then again, that's what we always were. Two fools and a rodent stuck in a timeless tea party.

She was different and I knew it and so did he. She wasn't of this world. This was reason she enticed him so much. She smelled of honey and clean clothes and it was a delicious smell to someone as mad as him.

Then she left. He blamed himself for it entirely and made sure everyone knew it. "I drove her away, I drove her away, I drove her away." Over and over he'd whisper this to people, but no one thought anything of it. I didn't ask.

Then the dreams.

He was violent in them. I could hear the groans, and the banging, and the breathing and the pain. I could hear him begging and pleading and then disagreeing and finally taking. I could hear it all from my bed across the room. I could hear it all from my little space in the corner. I could hear her name. "Alice…Alice…Alice…" Every morning, I'd just stare at him, and he'd stare past me. But he never said anything, so neither did I.

Then he left.

He left and no one knew where he went. Everyone just always thought it was impossible for any of us to ever leave, but he left. I don't know where he went and I'm not even sure if he's alive. Of course I remember him. I can still see him in my mind how he was before he went so…mad. He laughed a lot, but a healthy laugh, not the crackle he had near the time of his leaving. He had a sparkle in his eye, not the fire he now possesses.

Sometimes, I think I should have said something. I should have asked him how he was.

But I didn't ask.