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Behind Sanity

Chapter Five

1

Alice made it through the next day decently, even after so many unpleasant incidents. She would have to agree with Wendy when her sister commented that she looked more tired than usual, but she was still able to carry on in good spirits and smile when Wendy looked at her, and laugh when she skipped home with Morgan that afternoon.

She did not, however, forget about the night before.

Her finger was sore from the cut of the broken bottle. It smarted as she thought about what she had seen written on that bottle of juice, insisting to herself that it must have been a groggy mistake. She must have been dreaming or something of that sort, because there was no way she had seen the words DRINK ME on that label. Yes, it was some strange dream. Nothing, of course, that had any bearing on her sanity.

"Aunt Alice, are you listening?"

Alice gasped shortly at the invasion to her thoughts. She realized where she was so suddenly that it surprised her nearly to the point of fear. She was only sitting in the parlor with Morgan, but the way she'd jerk back, one would have thought she'd been summoned back from some forgotten plain. Still, it did not take long for Alice to remember. She calmed when she did.

She tilted her eyes to the small girl who looked back at her so expectantly with a book spread across her lap. Oh yes, we were reading over her lessons.

"Of course," Alice assured her with a nod of affirmation. "Go right ahead."

Morgan looked up at her aunt for a short disbelieving moment before giving her attention back to the book, pronouncing every word slowly and carefully.

"'In…my…y-youth,'…Father William re…re…"

"Replied," Alice aided sweetly.

Morgan went on and Alice shook her head slightly. Old Father William at age five? What were those teachers thinking?

The girl went on and Alice's mind once again drifted to the night before and the bottle. Drink me… What did it mean? She could think on it the whole night through and never find an answer. If only she could just forget it and pay attention to Morgan. If only…

From down the hall, muffled voices reached her ears, pulling her interest. While she'd been hoping for something that would trouble her less, she did not find it. These voices belonged to Tommy and Wendy. They were heated, and she knew without hearing the words what they were talking about. Alice strained her ears to hear, but she could not.

"'You are…old,' said the…youth. 'As I m…m…m"

Alice noticed the girl struggling only by chance as she tried to stretch her ears, wishing – perhaps for not the first time – that they were made of taffy instead of flesh.

"M…m…"

"Mome raths."

The words floated out of Alice's mouth before she'd registered them herself. Even after they'd touched Morgan's ears and the girl looked up at her aunt in confusion, Alice did not realize she'd even spoken. She was much too busy trying to listen to the muffled tones down the hall.

"What?" Morgan asked, tilting her head like a confused animal.

"Hm?" Alice asked, drawing her attention back to the girl briefly, albeit absently.

"You said 'mome raths'. Neither of those are real words."

The notion ran by Alice that she might ask how such a small child would know such a thing, but it passed her quickly.

"Oh…I-I'm sorry, Morgan, darling. Excuse me for just a moment. Just stay there and work on your lessons."

She rose up from the sofa then, unable to hold in her curiosity any longer. The voices down the hall were growing more audible as she took steps, and since that was the result she wanted, she did not turn away. Her gentle footfalls led her to a crack of light streaming out from a room that her mother had used in days past as a sewing room.

Leaning easily against the doorframe, she listened carefully without bothering to peer inside.

"I just can't believe you would go behind my back in this. You know that marriage without trust is nothing. It doesn't work. We agreed. We agreed that we would find a place for her, but not here. Not in this house!"

Tommy was trying his best to be calm; Alice could tell. He didn't make a habit of yelling at his wife, even over something so jeopardizing – in his opinion. The man was doing well, managing to keep his voice at a heated, normal tone. For the time, Wendy was silent. Alice imagined her sitting in a chair, eyes cast downward with her hands folded in her lap. Yes, that was her sister. She did not like confrontation.

"I know she's your sister and you feel like you should look out for her, but really, Wendy. Here! We don't even know what she's capable of!"

Wendy then made a quiet attempt, but it was not at reason.

"I met with her doctor several times; I told you. Dr. Elliot assured me that she was quite normal and would cause us – "

Wendy's voice was small, and Tommy was hardly listening.

"It feels like betrayal," he interrupted. "I can just hardly believe that you chose her over me."

"I'm sorry about what she did to you, Tommy. I really am…"

What she did? Alice's brow furrowed, thinking back as far as she could remember. She knew Tommy looked on her distastefully, but for all her efforts she could not recall why. One thing was certain though: Tommy did not like Wendy's words just now.

"It is not your place to apologize! You do not have to keep covering up for her! Alice is not your responsibility!"

His voice was louder now – more forceful. Insulted. Alice had to grip the wooden frame to keep from pushing her way into the room and confronting the man on her sister's behalf – and perhaps a bit for her own.

"She made her own choices; or maybe she had no control. But if she was insane enough to not understand what she was doing – to be so screwed around! – do you really think she should be here? Around our daughter?"

Wendy's voice came again, low and even.

"She's alone with our daughter now."

"Sweet Mary, mother of God," Tommy swore abruptly with annoyance, treading swiftly for the door.

Alice managed to pull herself into a room nearby before the man emerged, and he moved down the hall where he would find Morgan in the parlor alone, sitting in the large armchair. Alice simply held the door of the dark, musty room shut. She knew she would have to eventually venture from here and face what was beyond, but for now, she stood still and quiet.

Was all this true what she had heard? She knew Tommy didn't want her here, but Wendy – her own sister – only wanted her around because of what? Because she felt guilty? For what? For their parents' death? For Alice's past madness? For not letting Alice die as she'd wanted all those years ago? The young woman stood in the dark room, and this house had never felt so foreign.

"Alice…"

The sound of the whisper in the dark dragged across her ears like a dull scalpel scraping glass. Shocked to complete stillness, she caught her breath. But she could not manage to turn around. This room was empty. She was alone here. In a house this size, however, how could she say that there could not be someone here, hiding in a dark corner…

She felt that a large, cold slug had trailed a sticky mess across her spine. The door was in front of her. In fact, her hand was still clenching the knob. She'd only but to turn it to dash out of the room, fleeing from whomever was inside with her, calling her name as if he knew her.

"Who's there?" she asked in a choked whisper.

"You know it's what you want."

Alice thought she might have blushed then, though she wouldn't have known for the chill that fear had put on her. The voice was much too personal – so dark – talking to her like no man had talked to her before. But it knew something she didn't. She did not understand.

"What…? What do you mean?"

Though she could hear no footsteps, she could feel something advancing behind her. Was it some murderer? Some dark man who would seduce her into letting him wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze her shut until she was dead?

"Are you a common duck? Or an odd duck?"

Alice shook her head slightly. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, but nearly slipped from the dampness of her palm.

"I don't – I don't understand."

The voice chuckled lightly.

"Either way, things stay tame. Depths rise and truths lie, and you must do the same."

Alice listened to the sound of the low, purring tones. She realized something terrible then. Her heart jumped.

"You're not really here, are you?"

Her throat was dry. She gulped several times to remedy it. Even with her acknowledgement that this voice was just the same as the DRINK ME sign on the bottle, the thing behind her did not vanish like a vapor.

"Follow…"

Fingers clenched her hair, gently sliding through the dark locks. It might have been calming if she hadn't been so near to a scream. Follow? She had no voice left to ask.

"Follow the White Rabbit!"

The last words were a rapidly issued command, and much too swiftly for Alice, the door of the room flew open without permission as if some supernatural wind had jerked it from her grasp. A short shriek passed from her mouth before she could stifle it, the greater light from the hall blinding her momentarily.

"Alice! What are you doing in here?"

Wendy stood before her. Her mouth was turned down in concern, but her eyes were wide with fear. Tearstains rested on her cheeks. Alice noticed, but she was much too shaken by her own experience to register her sister's distress properly.

With her sister standing so near and shedding light within, Alice turned her head to look behind her without fear of consequence. The room was only full of junk – old furniture that was covered in dusty sheets. Could someone have been hiding there? Or was there no one there at all?

"Alice?"

With a slight shudder, the younger sister came back to reality. Here, only her own family's lies could choke her.

"I got lost."

It was a terrible lie, but Wendy would believe it. Yes, that was heartache mingled with terror she saw in her sister's eyes when she looked at her. In her mind, Wendy was telling herself: My poor dear Alice. I must do everything I can to save her. Alice recognized it. She thought it was horrible.

"Your room – it's upstairs. Would you like me to take you back there?"

"Oh, no no. I remember now. I just – I really don't know where I was going."

Alice moved past her sister, refusing to look back. She could hear the sound of her own breathing as it drifted to her ears.

Breath. Yes. That's all I hear. Nothing else but that. And I didn't hear anything in that room. I didn't…

She had, however, heard the conversation between husband and wife. It troubled her. Her footsteps carried her away until she was gone.

2

In her dream, she was asleep.

In her dream, she was asleep against a tree.

In her dream, she was asleep against a tree and she was dreaming about sleep.

And the green grass grew all around and around, and the green grass grew all around.

Alice woke up. She was startled in the beginning, but calmed instantly when she realized where she was. She was where she should have been – lying in the green grass. Her burgundy dress was wrinkled and there were bits of broken grass in her carefully curled hair, but all in all she was presentable. She could still make it back to tea.

She hardly stopped to wonder what a young woman of her age was doing falling asleep in the tall grass. That was something children did. No one would have to know, however. She would still make it to tea.

Sweet, bitter tea. She smiled at the thought of it.

Her legs carried her through the high grass and down the hill, aiming to cut back through the woods to reach home. Alice scratched her head, removing a small twig. How long had she been asleep? She wondered. The sky was still light, but she had to admit that the day appeared to be dying. She looked to the trees then, realizing suddenly that there was no wind. There were no birds singing; no sounds from evening bugs. There was only silence and stillness. Alice stopped, her legs ceasing to rustle the tall grass. Something was not right.

She turned her head back toward the tree where she had been sleeping, realizing then that she could not see anything in the distance beyond the grass and trees. She was not quite in the woods, yet nothing else seemed to exist. It was unnerving to her, but she pressed forward. Home was not far.

What's that…?

A shock ran through her, causing her heart to speed even before she understood what she was looking at. It was the color of the liquid that spilled down over the wooden sign – a thick, dark red. She hadn't remembered the sign before, but its appearance was not what rattled her most. It was the thing she was sure she saw atop it.

Impaled upon the sign's post was a man's head.

Alice stepped closer, cautiously, her fingers clenching her dress without her knowing. The head had certainly seen better days – considering that it had once been attached to someone's body. The sun had bloated it and rot had claimed it. The skin was sliding off the skull. Alice could smell it now. It was a stench like ruined eggs, only worse. She did not want to look at it but she could not turn away as she edged closer. She did not know how it had gotten here or who had killed this man, but what she could not stop thinking about was how oddly misshapen the head was. It was more round than it was wide, and it seemed almost to be pointed at the crown.

Who's there?

A rustle in the stillness jerked her around. Was there someone there? She wanted to go home. The mounted head had not been fresh, but someone had certainly been murdered here and she needed to tell the proper authorities. She moved along, but not without forcing herself to read the sign.

It had been a sign post, pointing off in directions whose names were unreadable now. Instead, there was a new message sprawled in blood.

Long is the way and hard that out of Hell leads up to light.

Had Alice heard that before? No, surely not. It did not sound familiar after all. With hardly a moment's more lingering, she darted off through the woods. The place seemed to grow darker with each step she took. The dark trees seemed to lean over her, trying to get a better look at her fear. Her feet sank into the soggy moss below, squishing unpleasantly. From out of the darkness, tiny eyes watched her. Why? Why were they watching her? She could not stop to look. Her thin, weak body pressed onward.

She barely managed to stop when she reached the hole.

The opening in the ground was massive, as if the earth had simply sunken in at the base of a large, wicked tree. Teetering on the edge, Alice peered down into the pit that seemed to move on forever through the darkness of the earth. Vines tangled around each other, seeming to battle for a place on the wall of the hole. The woman herself could not understand why anything would want to go down there, as she certainly had not planned to. But at the same time, she could not look away. It was as if all the wind had been pulled inside the hole, and now it was gently urging her forward.

"Come to us…"

The voice drifting up from the hole was unlike anything she'd heard before. If the air itself had a voice, she was certain it would have sounded like this. She did not know if the following echo was the same voice or not, but she knew it sounded just as serious and persuasive as the first. Her large eyes spanned the darkness once again.

"No," she said, taking a step back. "I don't want to."

The pit groaned. Alice watched with wide eyes as masses of black bugs began to crawl up from the hole. The roots and vines that reached down inside began to twist and writhe. She knew they were coming for her. She turned and retreated back the way she had come.

This is a dream, she told herself. I only have to wake up.

She ran on. The woods were finally full of sound. The wind was coming after her. The black bugs buzzed. The vines were moving, slapping against the ground as they went for her ankles.

Wake up, Alice, she coached. Wake up!

Vines reached in, gripping her ankles. They jerked her to the ground, and while she tried to dig her fingers into the soil, she could not keep herself from being dragged across the ground and back toward the hole.

No. No! This can't be! I won't go down there! I won't!

"Stop!" she screamed with all the force she could muster.

And stop everything did.

Alice sat up in her bed, in the room Wendy had given her in her old house, sweating. She breathed deeply for several moments, calming down until an image of the hole came back to her. Alice vomited all over her gown.