Rated T for some language and bum-kicking action.

Author's little speech:

My center align habit again, ugh. Sorry.

The Power that Lies Within the Dormant

In a forest located somewhere in a dream world, there is a fifteen year old girl running along with her lovely blue eyes big and searching, her blonde hair streaming ever so gracefully behind her, and her white heels stabbing marks in the ground as she weaved her way smoothly between the pale tiger-striped trunks of the forest.

The girl's name is Alice.

This is Wonderland.

Now, Alice is not the original Alice, and this certain Wonderland is not the true Wonderland.

Don't ask me what the heck is going on. There are many things in the world that don't have an obvious what the heck, why the heck, how the heck answer to them.

This is one of them.

Anyways, Alice was the kind of pretty little doll-girl with a charming smile that made boys want to keep her, and older girls want to have her as the adorable, sweet little sister, while some other girls would like to tear her hair out by the roots to see if she'd dare flirt with their boyfriends again.

Some distance in front of the dainty Alice, also running, is another girl with black witchy hair and envy green eyes. She is grinning like a maniac for no reason as she pumps speed into her legs.

Her name is Aceli.

Well, actually, it's me.

I know my name is weird. Maybe my parents misspelled it or something, but apparently they wanted me to be an 'ace' at things, henceforth the name. And it sounded like Ashley, which is my mom's middle name.

Some parents and the weird names they give.

They ask for disappointment.

The way I'm turning out in school, I should be called Laze-ly or Laizzy, instead of Aceli.

And as for why I have a lunatic, teeth-baring grin on my face, it's because I think that it makes me run faster.

I'm trying to get away from Alice.


She doesn't want me in 'her' Wonderland, and I would like to put as much distance between that girl and me as there is between the earth and the sun, her preferably on the sun's side, but she seems to like chasing me with an evil, injection-like object in her hand that she claims will 'expel' me from her dream world and land me firmly back into my own dreams. I don't like to look of that thing and neither do I like to idea of its needle stabbing into my flesh, even though I'm desperate to leave. Why can't we sort this out nicely? It's not like I can help it. Since I turned fifteen, every time I fall asleep I would find myself here.

(Alice started visiting when she was seven, that's why she has possessive/territorial issues with me, and also she believes she has the right to be here because her name is Alice and mine is not.)

It would be so much more pleasant if we leave each other in peace, minding our own stuff. If we happen to cross paths, we could just pull a face at each other, turn on our heels and walk away in the opposite directions. Simple!

But she can't get the idea into her head, therefore this absurd game of tag in our shared dreams. The superglue of cruel Fate holds us mutual enemies together and there's no escaping it, sadly.

It's tragically funny to remember that we used to be best of friends when we were young.

Looking back, I was relieved to see my sneakers have bested Alice's heels on soft ground: her eye-catching bright blonde has faded to a mere speck. It's a good thing that I have dark hair. Camouflaging isn't too hard in this shadowy forest. So thinking, I tripped over something and sprawled out on the soil.


After I struggled up from the clammy ground, I glared at the cause of my fall.

"For crying out loud, can't you...!"

I froze as my eyes looked closer.

It was a —

Cloop-cloop cloop-cloop

The sound of Car-Z beeped through from the other side of sanity. I felt the familiar but sickening tug that jerked me skywards, through the clouds, into outer space, the blackness fading as I slammed back to reality. My eyes snapped open, my heart leapt wildly for a moment, and I felt dizzy and ready to barf.

This was how I wake up.



My hand reached out and pressed the bonnet of my little silver sporty car alarm firmly.

Car-Z clicked off happily and its LED blue headlights dimmed until it was just a bare glow. The digits on its windscreen read 6:40. I stretched, and sighed. My legs felt sore, as if it really had been running through a forest in Wonderland. I lazed in bed for another ten minutes.

Outside, the birds sang. A car drove past on the street. Dogs barked. I could hear Mom clattering around in the kitchen.

Monday morning with Alice to deal with at school, homework not done, and an exam coming up... just thinking about it was enough to make my face go blue.

Well, life goes on.

I kicked off my blanket and dragged myself out of bed to change. But while I was brushing my teeth, my mind went back to what I had saw in that last moment, and I knew the thought would stick to my brain stubbornly, come hell or high water, and Alice or teachers.

I heaved another sigh.

I may be damn lazy, but I'm also damn curious.

Present and past tense mixing together can be confusing, I know.