𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, stranger things ¹

ᵒ¹. ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳˡᵃⁿᵈ.

━━ ,∙˚✧ o1. the lands of wonderland.
???, 1985.

TOUGH FEET MOVED barefoot across trails of sand sprinkled on the grey grass, and no wind moved across the clearing yet there was a chill that drove its way into vein and bone. There were particles like ash which floated in the air. The earth seemed to groan and breathe on its own.

          The girl walked like a dancer, each step posed with purposed grace, calculated and soft. Her body was strung upright in the gentle elegance of a puppet on strings. The bones in her shoulders were drawn back, chin tilted upwards ever-so-slightly. Her toes posed in the sand—spread lightly, ready to spring her away from any danger that might come after her. It was a natural thing which she didn't even have to think about doing anymore.

          Alice was not afraid anymore. When she'd first arrived in this dark, lonely place, she had been. But it was much better than the world she had come from, where everything was cruel, and she only knew pain. Here, was the outdoors she'd read about, the trees that were painted in storybooks, the monsters from fairytales, a sky.

          Wonderland—that's what she'd called it—because she'd been a child when she'd first stumbled upon this mirror world of magic and monsters and adventure, like the fantastical books that used to be read to her, and it filled her with wonder, and she'd not been a particularly eloquent child. So, Wonderland it had become, and Wonderland it would remain, because there was nothing else in this place capable of giving it a name.

          Wonderland changed like magic sometimes. One day scaffolding hanging with slime had appeared, on the brink of destruction, and something called Starcourt Mall had been constructed out of brick and slime and stood broken down in the centre of town. Only a few months later, it was gone again, reduced to rubble. The demolished remains were a breeding ground for the lithe, faster monsters, and Alice knew not to go there without necessity. They would tear her apart if they so much heard a sound from her. But Wonderland was inconsistent, erratic changing was normal to her, though equally unexpected at each occurrence. She wondered what made this world do such a thing.

          Webs of coiling slime and mucus broke beneath her bare toes. Alice spoke to herself as she walked. If she didn't, who else would she have to talk to? The monsters? She'd salvaged a weapon from shards of glass and a crowbar and some glue, which shone as a cruel long thing in the moonless night. When Alice had been raised, she was read to sometimes by some of the kinder doctors, who didn't pull her so hard when they strapped her into the chair. She'd learnt once about space, a far-off thing that didn't make much sense in the eyes of a child, but seemed like a magical place that people could fly to if only they had wings. The library had books, and Alice had read up on it extensively. She wondered if this Wonderland she was trapped in had a space that she could travel to. She would remain wondering—no amounts of books could teach her how to build a rocket ship.