Alice looked in the mirror. Who she saw was not the girl who was dragged into Wonderland.

Being in this world for so long had shot down her morals as easily as faceless workers were.

Or perhaps she had none to begin with; it would explain the swift acceptance she had garnered with the residents of this world.

How the cycle had begun she could not remember, periods of the 'day' lost in hazes of passion with so many different faces.

Her mind and heart torn in different directions, and her curiosity were to blame, she was sure.

She could not choose one of them, so different and frightening, yet all sharing a yearning and a want for one thing:

Alice.

During lovemaking, planned or spontaneous, her mind was filled with only him, her partner, her pleasure, and she convinced herself he was the one, her love, her life.

And then it ended, and her mind raced and swirled with confusion, pain, and a myriad of feelings in her heart, and so her mind was once again at war with itself, each part tugging and pulling in it's own direction, telling her who and why this person was the only on for her, or was it that one? It only sped up the exhaustion of her well-sated body.

She had tried to stop, to shy away from their advances, but she had been playing this game so long it had become second nature for her to respond eagerly to their touches and lips.

She knew that what she was doing was wrong, that this was no way to treat people you care for, but whenever they were being intimate, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, declaring emphatically their love for her, and promising her the world as they laid together, tired and spent, Alice knew.

She could get away with it.

And it was wonderful.