Where am I getting all these ideas, I bet you're asking? I was asking myself the same thing when I first came up with this one. I guess it was because I saw the DVD release advertised in the shop (June 4th, can't wait!). But anyway, I hope you all like it!

Disclaimer: Don't own AIW, Disney, Tim Burton and Lewis Carol all do.


Only A Dream

Only a dream?

Every morning when she awoke, Alice Kingsleigh would question the reality of her dreams, and would wake up feeling the same confusion like the day before. Memories of those events clouded her mind very dimly, and she would question if they ever happened. They had to be real, right? How could they have not been? She had spent most of her time thinking that it was a dream, until a certain blue caterpillar had told her otherwise.

"It wasn't a dream at all; it was a memory. This place is real!"

But as the days went on, Alice would question that very memory which had stored itself at the back of her mind. How could it all be real? The world was perfect for her; she had made friends she had always dreamed of having, and she fit in like a fish in water. But she had left and gone back to her own world, where she had to endure the boring lifestyle of Victorian society. If she had really belonged in that world, and if it had really happened, she would have stayed there. It was just so perfect for her. But Alice knew that life wasn't perfect. If it was, then her father would never have died so soon, leaving her all alone in the world.

When she had first left this place, the memories of it all had completely gone from her memory. Vanished into thin air. But she still had the feeling that she was forgetting something, and only when the blue butterfly showed up on the ship, did she remember everything. The memories gradually came back, little by little, and they mostly haunted her sleep. And Alice would like to go off into this little world of hers, and would often daydream in a place where no one could disturb her.

It was just a dream, she kept on telling herself, but each time she did, doubt would settle in her stomach. Dreams weren't that real, and she could even remember pinching herself, and the sharp pain not working.

"That's odd. Pinching usually does the trick."

Blue caterpillars smoking hookahs, smiling cats, and March Hares throwing tea cups would play themselves over and over in her mind, and a pair of green eyes would appear in front of her from nowhere, and Alice would wonder where the head was. Then she would remember that the cat often appeared just as eyes, although the eyes she saw weren't cat eyes. They were green, and a very bright green, but not cat-green. And sometimes, a hat would appear above them, and Alice would find herself smiling at the illusion of her closest friend.

Strange dreams, weird thoughts. Her thoughts were becoming dreams themselves, and Alice kept on wondering whether it was really happening to her or if it was just part of a larger dream. Had everything she had ever seen just been a figment of her imagination? Was it really that over active?

Wonderland. Underland.

She liked to refer to it as both. Underland because that was it's real name, and Wonderland because that was what she had first called it on her first visit. If she had ever visited. Maybe in a dream? But it was getting confusion. She wanted to believe that it had all been real, but she found that she couldn't. Her memories of it were fading, along with her childhood innocents. The scars that had been on her arm had already faded into nothing, and now, her memories were beginning to do the same.

Alice realized what was happening to all these lovely thoughts which seemed to keep her going in life, so would daydream more often than she used to, which her mother didn't seem to like at all. Despite telling her that she wanted to make her own way in life, Helen Kingsleigh would often tell Alice to find a husband and stop being a spinster, but Alice didn't listen. All her focus, all her memories, were on the place she couldn't decide was real or not. Her mother would sigh and shake her head. She was too much like Charles.

It was one afternoon that Alice made the biggest decision of her life. She had gone out into the garden for a daydream, and had found that she couldn't remember the name of the man with the green eyes. Before, she had been able to remember, but that afternoon, she couldn't. It frustrated her, and there and then, she knew that she had to find out. Whether it had all been a dream or not. Somehow, someway, she would find out, and there was only one way to do this.

She would return.


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