Alice's Peculiar Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter I

The golden sun glared upon the countryside, bright and dazzling against the cloudless pale blue sky. Wild flowers beautified the colorful summer fields, and the shadow of the oak tree swallowed young Alice as she slumped down to the grass and sat against the tree trunk. She sighed deeply, drained of energy after her rather boring history lesson. She lowered her head to look at the flowers blooming on the grass. Alice reached out and stroked one of the flowers' soft purple petals, feeling its delicacy against her lily white fingers. She hummed.

"Alice, dear, whatever do you think you are doing?"

Alice raised her head at once, alarmed, to look into her eldest sister's face. Clara was towering over her, holding a book securely against the right side of her chest with one arm, her lips curved into a frown. Several purple roses rested on her bonnet, which covered a huge part of her long waves of raven hair, her purple gown looked like something a woman would wear during the Georgian era, no, her outfit in general looked like something a woman would wear during the Georgian era, and her dark grey orbs stared into Alice's big and bright blue ones expectantly.

Alice cleared her throat. She could feel dread building up from the pit of her stomach. "Why, Clara! I am resting, of course. One may need rest after a long and boring - I mean, interesting - lesson," she explained in her best polite tone, but her voice came out laced with irritation. Clara must have heard the clear irritation in her younger sister's voice, but, much to Alice's gratefulness, chose not to remark on it.

"Sit up straight, won't you? A polite young girl must not slump. And do prepare for the next lesson, my sister. I will allow you to rest out of the kindness in my heart, but your break shan't last for ever," said Clara, lifting her chin, a queenly expression plastered across her face. Alice snorted in an unladylike manner - out of the kindness in her heart! Clara made herself sound like a saint.

"Oh dear, how unpleasant! A polite young girl must not snort. You are not a pig, now, are you?" Alice shook her head. Clara turned around to appreciate the summery scene in front of her. Alice stared at her sister's back resentfully. If anything or anyone was unpleasant around here, it was Clara! She always screeched into her mind, causing Alice to wake up in a panic after a magical dream, and walked in with her eyes closed, her head held high and her fingers wrapped around a bit of the skirt of her gown, looking very queenly. Not to mention, she was obsessed with turning adventurous and curious young girls like Alice into polite, good-mannered, sophisticated young girls!

"My, my. This is what I consider beautiful. Look at the colors of this landscape. Beautiful, Alice, are they not?" Clara observed. Alice nodded miserably, then threw in a gloomy, "Yes. Beautiful." Alice paused. "But if only the flowers could talk, why, I would talk to them for hours on end. And if only the butterflies had a loaf of bread with butter spread all over the bread as wings, how wonderful and pleasant would that be? I would call them bread-and-butterflies," she added, talking mostly to herself, forgetting the chill she felt in Clara's presence.

Clara gawked at Alice for a moment. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and sat down gracefully on the grass in front of her sister. "Talking flowers? Bread-and-butterflies? How ridiculous! Mother and Father would not tolerate such nonsense. I do not approve of nonsense and imagination, Alice. Kindly stop talking nonsense. Now, let's continue the history lesson, shall we?" she said, and opened her book. Resentment fluttered in Alice's chest as Clara cleared her throat and read the words on the pages loudly.

Resentment was not the only thing fluttering around. Lovely butterflies fluttered around the field, each bright and beautiful, capturing Alice's attention as they flapped their delicate wings. Clara's voice sounded distant; she couldn't hear what her sister was saying, and she had no interest in hearing what her sister was saying, either. The butterflies fluttered past Alice, each sending a wave of happiness and freedom over her. She sighed dreamily and gazed up at the vast pale blue sky through the branches. She sunk into her imagination. She soared up into the sky, the gentle summer wind caressing her face, birds flying past her occasionally...

Alice's eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and soon she was seeing the world through half-closed eyes. Clara's voice droned on and on far, far away... she was within her reach but her voice sounded so faraway... soon Clara's lips were just moving in silence... Alice felt a throbbing in her head... the world looked so beautiful, so wonderful, from her perspective, in fact, it looked so beautiful she wished the landscape would never fade away... and then her eyelids closed, slowly, slowly....

"Alice!" exclaimed Clara, cutting into her thoughts sharply like a deathly dagger. Alice's eyes shot open. She fixed her slumped figure by sitting up straight immediately. "Oh, dear! I send my genuine apology to you. Forgive me for very rudely and disrespectfully falling asleep in the middle of your interesting history lesson, my sister," she recited, smiling sweetly. Clara harrumphed and set her book down, looking quite irritated. "Alice, have you been sleeping late again?" she asked, frowning. Alice shook her head absentmindedly, but then quickly nodded to cover it up. Clara shook her head disapprovingly before picking up the book and continuing.

"Eh-ahem. Let's do a recitation, shall we? Tell me, Alice, who was Abraham Lincoln?" asked Clara, staring into Alice's blue orbs. Alice stared back into hers blankly. She hesitated, then shrugged shyly. Clara kept her firm gaze on Alice. "You do not know? If you do not know who Abraham Lincoln was, how will you know the rest? You have not been listening, have you? How many times do we have to go over this? This is the tenth time I've had to repeat this lesson!" she snapped. Alice lowered her head like a child caught sneaking their hand into the cookie jar, but she didn't actually feel any guilt. In fact, she found it strangely amusing when Clara scolded her. More amusing than any of her long, boring lessons, anyway.

Clara sighed wearily. Alice looked up and fixed her gaze on her sister. She'd only just noticed how worn out her sister looked. Bags were forming under her eyes. Alice felt a stab of guilt. Then a memory floated to the surface of her mind, and she said, brightly, "Abraham Lincoln was an American politician and lawyer who served as the sixteenth President of the United States from March 1861 until his assassination in April 1865." Clara looked up and smiled, not one of her fake smiles, or one of her hard, icy smiles, or one of her sad smiles either, but a beautiful, genuine smile. Alice glowed. Pride fluttered in her chest.

"Excellent!" enthused Clara, her face glowing with happiness. "I must say, I was not expecting that. I was quite sure you'd forgotten everything. It appears I was wrong." Then she cleared her throat, dropped her smile and raised the book slightly. She continued, her voice booming throughout Alice's head.

"Now onto Princess Alice of the United Kingdom, and then we will begin the chapter on Native Americans. Ahem."

The spark of pride quickly died out at her words. Alice groaned internally and slumped against the tree trunk. Her gaze held onto anything fascinating it could find - butterflies, flowers, trees, the pale blue sky. She grew lost in her own thoughts again. Alice could see a man with messy pure white hair and a colorful hat, one a nutty magician would wear, was perched on his head. His clothes were colorful, too - colorful jacket, colorful waistcoat, the peculiar old man was full of colors... beside him, a yellow-striped blue cat appeared out of the blue, floating in the air, with the widest grin Alice had ever seen... the grinning cat waved its tail in front of its body, and then it was gone... the old man spoke... "Cheshire Cat, what about your tea? It is, after all, your unbirthday!" His voice was happy and free of dark feelings.

Alice stared into the pupils of the man's deep brown eyes... the blackness of his pupils swallowed her... and then she fell into a deep slumber.