Behind Sanity

Chapter Three

                                                                     Behind Sanity 

                                                                     Chapter Three

                                                                                1

                 A week passed for Alice and her new family, and every morning that she awoke felt like the first morning in some strange, new, pleasant place.  She walked with Wendy and Morgan to and from the schoolhouse.  During the day, she and Wendy would shop and cook – which Alice had little experience with and often made mistakes.  They always had tea.  Everything was wonderful and easy, and each day was as wonderful as the day before.        

                 On the eighth day, Alice staggered downstairs for breakfast, feeling that she had not slept so well in ages.  In truth, she had hardly ever slept at all before, and to say that she’d gotten more than four hours of comfortable, uninterrupted sleep was astounding.  The sweet smell of breakfast now floated past her nose.  What was this smell?  It had become so foreign that she didn’t even recognize it anymore.  Or had she just smelled it the day before?  Had she fallen asleep in the asylum and awoken here?  The smells were so delicate and warm – something she was still not used to.  When she finally stepped down into the kitchen, Wendy was at the stove and turned with a warm smile from her cooking.

                  “Good morning, Alice,” she greeted cheerily.

                 Alice offered a smile, but gave no further greeting.  She was much too taken with the daylight streaming in through the window.

                 Morgan was already at the table chewing at a buttered piece of toast.  She wore a long, pink gown with white borders.  Her curly hair was still disheveled from sleep.  To Alice, the girl still looked very tired, as if she hadn’t slept at all.  Her eyes carried small bags.  But Alice had noticed this about Morgan every morning since she had awoken in this place, so she did not think it strange.  On the floor beside Morgan’s chair lay the white rabbit, its limbs twisted uncomfortably.  Its button eyes stared emptily and continuously at the ceiling.

                 “Have a seat,” Wendy said, interrupting Alice’s observations.  “Your breakfast will be done in a minute.  Have some orange juice.  There’s a glass for you on the table.”

                 Alice found her place at the table across from Morgan, who smiled up at her.  She saw Dinah scooting a small dish of milk across the floor as she lapped it up messily.  Then Alice peered down at the orange juice under her nose.

                 “It’s good,” Morgan commented, licking jam from her small fingers.

                 Alice lifted the drink up to her nose.  Taking a whiff, she determined that there was no medicine swimming in it.  She smelled of it again, as though her nose was playing a nasty trick on her.  Morgan watched as her aunt took a long drink of the juice and savored the unaltered flavor.  Juice every morning for a week, and there was never anything in it.  Still, there were habits that Alice had not been able to cast away just yet.

              “It’s time for you to go and get ready for school, Morgan,” Wendy said. “Your clothes are on your bed.  Do you need me to come help you with your dress?”