Dreaming of Wonderland: Alice’s Mysterious Sister

School’s started up again, and that means endless writing assignments with topics I couldn’t care less about. I never thought anything would change, that is, until I got this one: Fairytale Re-Write

My inner fanfic-writer heart soared at the thought of putting my own spin on a literary classic. Below is my take on Alice’s decent into Wonderland from the point of view of her older, and poised, sister.

Dreaming of Wonderland

Margaret was beginning to tire of sitting by her sister on the bank, though she wasn’t about to admit that aloud. She was meant to be setting a good example for her younger sibling, and Father would not be pleased if he heard she wasn’t doing exactly that. Trying very hard to ignore Alice’s incessant hovering over her shoulder, Margaret turned her attention back to the book before her.

“What is the use of a book,’ muttered Alice ‘without pictures or conversation?’

Pretending not to have heard the question, Margaret continued to skim through the fist paragraph, hoping Alice would do the same with her own novel. The hot day made her feel very sleepy, and though they sat by the river, no breeze came. Fighting to overcome the onset drowsiness, Margaret turned her attention to the historical significance of the Waitangi Treaty, beginning to read aloud in the hopes of pushing Alice to do the same.

“…the English and Māori versions of the Treaty differed significantly, so there is no consensus as to exactly what was agreed to. From the British point of view-“

“Oh! Look Dinah, a rabbit!”

Dinah, Alice’s kitten, sat atop the book Alice was meant to be reading, cleaning herself as she lazed in the summer sun.

“I’ve never seen one quite so elegant as that! Do you think-“

Margaret shot her sister a scathing look, silencing Alice immediately. As she began to converse in hushed tones with her cat, Margaret turned back to her book, noticing the rabbit Alice had pointed out disappearing behind a bed of blooming marigolds. With soft white fur and a bright pink nose, the rabbit was so quick Margaret could have sworn it almost ran by. Shaking the nonsensical thought from her mind, Margaret continued to read aloud, happy when she noticed Alice begin to wander off in the direction of the hare. Obviously, Alice was a lost cause far beyond her aid. She had to get through this book, and being alone was most likely the best way to do just that. She had tried her best to engage Alice, but the task was a futile one and Father would just have to understand. Settling against the trunk of a great willow, Margaret allowed herself to finally enjoy the book in front of her, eyes slowly glazing over as she did.

Margaret woke with goosebumps along her arms, and an insistent Dinah pawing at her feet. The sun had begun to take it’s leave, the summer heat slipping away along with it. Slowly getting to her feet, Margaret glanced around, eyes searching for her sister. Once she established Alice wasn’t anywhere close by, Margaret began to quicken her pace, calling for Alice in a fevered haze. Where could she have gone? Why had she left for so long? Father would be furious if they didn’t return soon. Dinah ran ahead, stopping in front of a bundle of blue and white fabrics that sat atop a particularly soft section of long grass.

Smiling in relief, Margaret stooped down, sitting beside the form of her sleeping sister. Gently brushing dead leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her hair, Margaret began to softly nudge Alice awake.

Murmuring softly, Alice rolled over, placing her head in Margaret’s lap.

‘Wake up, Alice dear!’ said Margaret; ‘Why, what a long sleep you must’ve had!’

‘Oh, I’ve had such a curious dream!’ said Alice, and she told Margaret of all the strange adventures she’d had. As she listened, the eldest sister couldn’t help but smile, planting a kiss upon her youngest’s cheek once the extravagant tale was done.
‘It WAS a curious dream, dear, certainly: but now run in to your tea; it’s getting late.’
As Alice got up and ran off, Margaret remained where she was, falling back into the soft section of grass and soaking up the last bit of setting sun. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to think of little Alice and her wonderful adventures. For what felt like hours, she sat on, with eyes half closed, dreaming of offended mice, smiling cats, and temperamental queens. Though she knew, eventually, she would have to open them again and return to bitter reality, thoughts of angry Fathers and picture less books the last thing on her mind. With eyes closed and peaceful breath, Margaret fought to cherish every last moment she could with Alice, in Wonderland.