The Wrong Alice (Edited Version)

Chapter 1

My blue shoes crushed the dead leaves laying on the sidewalk as I walked, creating an eerie crunch of noise in the silence of the neighborhood. It was not the prettiest day the world had ever seen, but that wasn't the reason I was sulking. The reason behind my dampened mood resulted from a love note in my locker that afternoon; a love note from a boy. It would have been fine if I wasn't a boy myself. The truly terrible factor of this disappointment was how unaffected by it. It had happened enough times I have grown used to receiving these notes.

My name's Alice Liddell. I was named Alice purely by a cruel twist of fate. When my mother was pregnant with me, the doctors thought I would be a girl, so my mother chose the name Alice after her great grandmother. However, when I was born, it turned out I was actually a boy. My mom, not wanting to change the beloved name, decided to stick with it despite it being about as girl of a name as you could get without picking the name Missy. I've hated the name since I learned it was mind, but I don't have a choice since it's on my birth certificate. I'm turning sixteen in a day, and I'm going to ask to change my name. If my mom agrees I will finally be free of the mistake the doctors made. It's bad enough I get complemented all the time for my "beauty" by girls and boys alike, I don't need a matching mistake to go with it.

As I reached the front yard, I looked up at my house and all of its strangely intricate vine-coverage. The outside of my house was just like every other house on the block. Metal railings protruded slightly from the balconies, windows half open that looked square, but could easily be a rectangle if one squinted, and a front door so big one could simply carry out a queen size bed instead of having to take it apart. The difference between my house and the other hundred in the neighborhood was found on the inside. My mother, being the artist that she was, had painted every room a different color, the richest color she could find from burgundy red to sunshine yellow. Each room's furnishings and other objects were also the color of its walls. My room was the only exception to the rest of the house; it was just a plain light blue. I had white furniture and black sheets on my bed with a comforter the same blue as my walls. My mother had begged me to let her change it, but I liked the subtle color in such a contrasting house and told her she could change it only after I moved out. 

With a deep sigh, I sat down on my bed. I hoped tomorrow went better than the last time I had brought up the issue of my name. It had been about a year ago. When I asked my mom to change my name, she burst out crying and locked herself in her room for two hours, refusing to speak to me until I agreed to keep my name. She said that it was an important name and I had to have it if I was to live up to what life would bring me. Remembering that silly excuse, I stood up and went to my desk, pulling out my homework as I sat down to study. Whatever life brought me was bound to be laced with ill-intent, I was sure.

After working for a few hours, taking a quick break to greet my mother when she returned from work, my mom called me down for dinner. I helped my mom bring dishes of food to the table and we both sat down. We talked while we ate, telling the other about our day until we ran out of things to say and the table grew quiet. Then my mother dropped her fork. "Oh, yes! I forgot!" she exclaimed, hurrying from the table. I watched after her in confusion until she return a minute later holding a letter. She handed it to me. "This was in the mail this morning. It had your name on it, so I didn't read it. Hurry and open it so I can find out what's inside," she said. Sometimes, I wondered if my mom was more teenager then adult.

She watched me closely as I opened the letter. I read it aloud:

'Dear Alice,

Please meet me in the garden maze tomorrow at 11:30pm. We can have tea with the others. See you there.

-W.R.

P.S. Happy birthday, Alice.'

As I read the last bit, I trailed off and frowned at the paper. Why did someone want to meet with me on my birthday? And since when do people have 'tea'? I was wondering if this was a prank or something when my mom clapped her hands together excitedly. "Interesting!" she said.