Wonderland &;#063;

Wonderland ?

An Original Story By Chris Richards

Ever so slowly the little girl's eyes open, taking a moment to adjust
to the darkness, moonlight seeping in through a gap in her bedroom
curtains, hazily illuminating her bed and dressing table.
She's been having a bad dream, but as so often happens the events seem
to have been erased from her memory. Even so, her flesh is covered in
goosebumps, the hairs on the back of her neck standing rigidly to
attention.
A nauseous feeling sweeps over her body and pulling back the sheets
she slides from the bed, reaching for the glass of water that is always
kept on her bedside table, taking a small sip.
She flicks the small lamp on, squinting at the sudden
brightness.
It is strange, but everything seems to be much bigger than she
remembered it to be, almost as though she has shrunk whilst
sleeping.
"I'm still dreaming !!" She reasons, throwing her hands up in the air.
"I've drunk a shrinking potion and I'm like Alice, ready to step into
Wondeland." She laughs, rushing over to the door, pulling it open, her
tiny hands barely reaching the handle.
Almost immediately she falls backwards, a huge lumbering object
speeding towards her from across the far side of the landing. She wants
to let out a scream but it remains frozen in her throat, her mouth
gaping wide and silent.
As the indistinguishable thing is about to strike her it
vanishes,
leaving the air filled with an electric, fear-fuelled tension and
without thinking the girl presses against the nearest door, falling
into the spare bedroom, collapsing in a heap on the floor.
For a moment she just lays there, too terrified to move. In time
though she gets to her feet, surveying her new surroundings, an
undraped window allowing amber light from the streetlamp outside to
brighten the dark, featureless walls.
The room itself is quite bare, with the exception of a large flat
object which has been placed against the old, boarded up fireplace and
covered with a yellowing lace tablecoth.
With slow, calculated steps, she walks towards it, a couple of loose
floorboards creaking beneath her.
Something suddenly crashes into her side, throwing her across the
room, an intense pain spreading throughout her body, her head spinning,
threatening to explode.
She looks up only to see that she is still alone in the room, although
now she is directly in front of the covered object. Catching her breath
she reaches up, pulling at the tablecloth to slowly reveal a
rectangular, brass framed mirror, a rusty chain hanging across the
front of it.
Allowing the cloth to fall by her side, she moves herself around so
that she can see her reflection.
At first she can do nothing but stare in disbelief at the face that
looks back at her, then she remembers it all and begins to weep.
The reflection is not hers, but that of her six year old
daughter,Emily.
"You're sleepwalking, that's all." A familiar voice says. "In the
morning you'll have forgotten all about this." Emily's Grandmother
appears from behind her, placing a guiding hand against her back. "Your
Mother...." Her voice begins to break. "Your Mother used to do the same
thing when she was a little girl."

As the two of them silently leave the room, Helen Slater, Emily's
mother, stares at the mirror once again, only now she sees no
reflection and knows for sure that she is dead.....

The End

Copyright: Chris Richards 1995

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