“He says that you are a hypocrite.” “A hypocrite?” Alice sat her paint bucket down along with her paintbrush and sat beside me. She was always disheveled in her appearance. Corn silk hair, a tangled mess that sometimes held a black bow, doe eyes that stared off into a world much different from reality. Her dresses were far too big and her mismatched stockings always lumped at her ankles. In a way, it all made her oddly beautiful. “He says that you once visited Wonderland, well, a country close to it.” Alice tilted her head away, losing her train of thought as she usually did. “Neverland…” -All Rights Reserved
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