The Wonderland Story

And *takes deep breath* Here’s the short story.

I’m crazy.
I know that.
My mother shakes her head sadly as she closes the door. The dull click of the lock echoes in my head.
They say it’s for my own good. They say that I’m mad, a lunatic, a delusional fantasist. Locking me in here is supposed to protect me.
But I know the truth.
They don’t want someone like me in their family.
They don’t want to be related to someone who’s been to Wonderland.
They don’t believe it’s real.
When I’d come back from Wonderland, when I’d told them my story, I’d thought that they would understand. I’d thought my family would listen to me. But they’d laughed. They hadn’t trusted me. My brothers had mocked me in my face. My father had ignored me.
I’d tried to tell them again, begging them to believe me. I’d tried to describe everything that’d happened to me there, how Wonderland had shown me what I was. Who I really could be. How it’d shown me the full amount of love that was poured into me by the Creator, and how I needed someone to give that love to.
They laughed again.
Then they called me a crazy girl. And I knew they were right. But then they said they would shut me up before I hurt myself, or one of them.
So here I am.
Imprisoned by my own family, by the very people who should have had the most faith in me.
A hopeless girl.
A foolish dreamer.
Maybe they are right.
There’s no such thing as Wonderland.
It was a dream.
Just a dream.
“No.”
The part of me that still believes fights against all the doubting voices and nay-saying whispers.
“No.”
It has to be there. It has to. It can’t have been a dream. It’s there. And I’m going to find it again.
I clutch at the window sash, pushing it up. The night wind swirls in, surrounding me, comforting me.
“Courage.” It breathes. “Strength and courage. You will find it again.”
I tie my sheets together, smiling drily as I do so. All my life I’ve laughed at the many stories of people escaping with their bedsheets out the window, in the dead of night, and now I’m doing it myself.
The last knot is tightened and I turn to the door.
“You don’t understand.” I spoke as if I was facing my family. “You won’t believe me? Then I’ll leave. I’ll find Wonderland. I hope, someday, you will all find it too. I’ll be waiting for you.”

The grass rustles beneath my feet as I slip along our fence to the gate. The moon smiles down on me, sharing its silver beams to light my way. The stars twinkle and flash, whispering words that I somehow understand,
“Hurry. Hurry. It’s still there. Find it. Find it. Hurry. Hurry.”
The wizened tree by the turn-lane stretches its arms down, like an old man reaching down for his grandchild.
“Don’t give up. It’s still there. Hurry. Hurry.”
The leaves shiver and turn towards the moon, bowing to its heavenly beauty. The soft voices of the stars fade as I walk down the road.
“Keep going. Hurry. You will find it. You will…”

* * * * *

I brush hair from my eyes and pace back and forth, waving my thumb and holding my cardboard sign. Dozens of cars pass by, some people shouting at me, laughing, jeering. It’s pitiful really.
Do I actually think someone will stop and give me a ride? Does anyone else even know how to get to Wonderland. Can they? I doubt you can drive there. And what are the chances that anyone passing, who actually knows the way, will stop?
But it’s the only way I can think of to get back.
I’ve tried everything else.
A man rolls down his window, tapping his cigarette ashes onto my backpack. I plead with my eyes.
He sneers, laughs, and drives away.
It’s not hopeless. I fight to convince myself of this. I will find a way.
Ever since I’d left home three months ago, I’ve been trying to get back. I’ve walked miles of road, and seen dozens of cities, but still, I haven’t found the way back yet.
One time I’d thought I had, in a cavern carved in the side of a cliff by the ocean. I’d felt something, and thought it was Wonderland, calling me.
But the cave wasn’t the way. It was just a cave. Empty. Dark. Dripping with water and echoing my sobs.
I tried again, in the woods near a park. And again, underneath a bridge. In an empty trailer. A culvert by the river. An abandoned barn.
Nothing has worked.
But I need to go back.
I have to.
Out of Wonderland, I’m unhappy. It had shown me the beauty in my heart, and the way it could triumph over the blackness, and I’d believed it. And yet, back in this place, I can’t seem to feel it anymore. I’m losing what I’d learned there. The feelings are slipping away, being replaced by the awful realities of this world. But my world is out there somewhere.
And I’m going to find it.

Tires grind the pavement and a black truck stops.
The door opens and a young man leans out, his quizzical eyes going from my face to my sign.
“Need a ride?” he asks slowly.
I nod, and point to my sign. “Can… can you take me there?”
“I can.”
I don’t believe it. Is this a joke? Is he serious?
“Y-you really know how to get there? To… to Wonderland?”
“Yes.” The young man rubs his chin. “I’ve been there before.”
“You have?”
He nods. I study his face. It’s bright, earnest, and honest.
I pick up my bag and climb into the seat behind him. He turns around and sticks out his hand.
“Dean.”
I shake it.
“Ali.”
I pause, trying to think of something, anything, to say as Dean puts the car in gear and pulls out of the grass.
“Um… how long will it take to get there?”
That sounds like the stupidest question ever.
Dean smiles. “Oh, not long. The tunnel is about half an hour from here.”
“Hmmm. Tunnel?”
“Yep.”
He looks at me in the rearview mirror. I stare at his eyes. There’s something in them, something that sparkles. Something that looks like Wonderland.

Critiques anyone? @graciegirl @bethanysinkyroses @that_writer_girl_99 @perfect-fifths @hope @daues @kate-flournoy @aratrea @ethryndal @dragon-snapper@adry_grace @emma-flournoy