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The winter snow shows peace and that everything is as it should be. The night hushes, the stars twinkle and the moon smiles as it does every night. The trees are fruitless and inert, stiff, as they are every winter. There is a house sitting on the ground, slumbering with a family inside.

On the base of the house there is the living room, with a fireplace that hold cindering coals and ashes from a just put out fire. The room is quiet—everything is still. The only sounds heard are the repetitive ticks of the clock and wind blowing in the winter air outside. We see sepia pictures of a girl and her family, mundane like any other and happy, as any should be. Playing cards, a chest board, a pocket watch, and furniture sit on shelves and on the floor asleep and all wait the next expected day.
On the top floor of the home, there is a child’s bedroom; sanctuary to a little brown haired girl asleep with her stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm. She sleeps smiling—and complacent. Under her hand of the arm with the rabbit tucked away is an open book—Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. The little girl had fallen into sweet slumber reading one of her favorite tales.

“Wake up Dormy, it’s time for the tea party.” You hear a voice come from the pages. She had stopped on a page of the chapter with the Mad Hatter and the March Hare.
“ I’ve got one, why is a raven like a writing desk?” You hear another voice reciting the Mad Hatter’s old riddle.

With the room sleep quiet, a creeping black cat is awake—most likely the family pet. The cat jumps unto a desk and stands next to a stack of books. A big gust of wind blows and terrifies the cat. The pet then jumps off frantically and hit the stack. As the books shook back and forth, they hit a row of book sitting on shelf and they begin to tumble like dominos. The end book hits the oil out of a lamp and the oil spills onto the wood floor and moves toward the coals that still burn in the fireplace.

A fire then ignites and begins a burning rampage. The pages from the storybook turn to chapter IV- Smoke and Fire. The same voices from the book come back.

“Ahh! Ahh! Oh dear, oh dear! Ahh!” yells the “Mad Hatter’s” voice.
“We must save Alice!” Orders the “March Hare’s” voice.
“Wake Up Alice! Wake Up!”
The Brown haired child awakes to the call of her name. She has no idea what is happening, but she soon realizes that she and her family are in danger. The fires grows, it burn the chest board, the playing cards, the books on the shelves, and floor, the rugs, and anything else in its way.

Alice runs to her parent’s room down the hall from hers to warn them. Smoke comes from under the door; the inferno has already reached them.

“Mum? Dad?” she calls with a frightened tone.
“Alice?” Her mother responses with coughs followed.
“Mother? Father?!” Alice cries out with tears beginning the seep through her eyes.
“ I Can’t Breath!” Her father Yells as he frantically tries to open the door. More smoke comes from the door and the heat intensifies.
“Get out Alice!” Her mother worries for her child.
“Save yourself Alice!” Her father commands.

. The fire grows and has the whole house in its clutch. Furniture is set ablaze, memories of the loved home burn with no mercy; the fire grows and destroys with a devilish smile. Embers and flares burst from walls and from anything flammable, trying to takes the little girl as it did her parents.
In a panic, Alice cries and follows her parent’s wishes; she leaves the door and runs with out looking back or thinking clearly. She dashes down the hallway and then she jumps through glass, through a window at the end of the corridor. She falls to the snow covered ground with the rabbit in hand. From the blazing temperatures, she is forced to the cold weather and unto the hard earth. She stays conscious looking at the burning house. Taking in the horrific memory. A speedy gaze into her light green eyes leads out of the memory and to her current condition.
The Alice we will know has grown from that child mentally and age wise. From that fateful event she has been disturbed and placed in to metal asylum.
She lays recumbent in a hospital bed with her tattered stuffed rabbit under her arm. The room is dirty and plain white. The window beside her bed has bars on it. Her arms are at her sides with freshly healed cuts on her wrists from an attempted suicide. She doesn’t blink—she just stares at the ceiling listening to the nurses.

“Poor dear, after all of these years…maybe that old rabbit will bring her around.” Says the nurse as she closes the door. Her footsteps heard softer and softer as they depart from the room. Thunder rolls out side and once again, everything is quiet…in her room at least. You can still hear the insane cackles of other patients and the struggles of the doctors.
Alice moves her arm and tucks the stuffed rabbit under arm. She places her hand on her breast and continues to stare. Then the silence breaks—the rabbit turns its body toward Alice.
“Save…us…Al…ice.” The Rabbit says in a raspy morose tone. Alice is shocked she stares at the rabbit and is left speechless. Her world is then turned to a sepia picture. It falls slowly in a black abyss along with a playing card with the queen of hearts on it, a pawn chest piece and a pocket watch with the cogs falling out of it. A beam of light shines from the top; the stuffed rabbit falls at the bottom and lands on some sort of ground in the middle of the beam. Dust is shaken up and the toy lays still.