The Heart of Wonderland

Chapter 8

"Alison. Alison!" Aunt Caroline grabbed her shoulder and shook her. "What are you doing down here? Can you hear me?"

Alison looked around, confused. She was standing in the foyer of her home and a cold breeze blew in through the open front door. Her reflection in the entry way mirror was wide-eyed and shivering, her lips blue from the chill. But hadn't she just been in her bedroom, dreaming about a rabbit in a forest? She shook her head. How had she gotten down here?

Caroline hurried to shut the door. "What are you doing?" she asked again. "And why is the door open? It's freezing outside!"

Alison looked away from her reflection. "I'm...not sure. I was in my room and I fell asleep. And then..." She shrugged helplessly. "I don't remember coming down here."

Caroline frowned and wrinkles appeared on her forehead. "Oh, honey, you must have been sleepwalking. When I found you down here, you were staring into the mirror like you were somewhere else entirely."

Alison shivered again. "What time is it?" How long had she been dreaming?

And how long had she been standing there, freezing her butt off?

Her mother's antique grandfather clock bonged loudly from the living room and they both jumped.

Alison counted the chimes. "Midnight." She'd been asleep for hours. And judging from how numb her fingertips and toes were, she'd been staring into the mirror sightlessly for a significant portion of that time.

Caroline reached into the coat closet next to Alison and pulled out the first warm thing that came to hand. When her aunt wrapped it around her, Alison breathed in the scent of her mother's perfume and felt her head swim as if she might faint.

"Come and sit down," Caroline said, noticing Alison's distress. In the living room, she studied the girl. "I'm worried about you," she said after a minute. "The doctors said you could come home if you didn't show any more symptoms relating to the concussion. But sleepwalking seems..."

She let the sentence trail off, but Alison knew what she meant. People with unscrambled brains didn't go for walks outdoors in their sleep. Especially not in the middle of winter.

"I had this dream," she explained. "It was like one I had in the hospital. I followed this rabbit and fell down a hole, like Alice in Wonderland. I don't remember all of it, but I dreamed about the rabbit again just now."

Caroline's frown deepened. "Alison, you're really worrying me now. You're not making any sense."

"Well, that's how dreams work, isn't it? But I don't think having the same dream twice means I'm brain damaged."

"Are you saying you just described a dream to me?"

Alison frowned back. Now Caroline was the one acting strangely. "Um, yeah. That's what I just said."

She knew she shouldn't be sarcastic. Her aunt was only trying to help, but she was so sick of everyone's questions. The doctors, Caroline, everyone at the funeral. She was the one who'd just lost her parents, so why couldn't they leave her alone for five minutes?

Caroline leaned forward and stared into Alison's eyes intently. Alison shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

"Whatever, I'm fine. I'm going back to bed." She stood up to brush past her aunt, but Caroline stopped her.

"The only part of what you just told me that made any sense at all—and I'm quoting you directly here—was the checkers are in the Boston bread maker. The rest was just gibberish. That doesn't sound like a dream to me. That sounds like your concussion talking."