Chapter 8 - Escape Plan

Alfie sighs as it's been three months since Mother left for China and he has yet to hear anything back from her. Meanwhile, Aunt Margaret is getting more comfortable controlling his life. One day she even started forcing him to learn to write. Which was fine Alfie loved writing about places he had dreamed up, only problem was those writings were unacceptable by her standards. They included creatures  such as a Bandersnatch and Jabberwock. Then she'd frown upon character names such as Absolem and Cheshire Cat. So, instead he spent one entire month learning how to read and write "real" words and names.

After that, it was writing of great English knights and kings. Things that if his mother had said them, she'd mention their battles or adventures. Not aunt Margaret though, she was more focused on their contributions to parliament and amount of wealth. Things that made him do nothing but sigh.

Timed ticked by and it had now been six months. He was coming along greatly in fencing practice and as a strapping eleven year old young man that Aunt Margaret was almost proud of. He hated himself as his eleventh birthday two weeks ago had been the last time he had even had a dream. He spent the night chasing Cheshire around the White Queen's castle while she laughed at his attempts to corner the clever cat. Alas, that had been two weeks ago and now all he dreamed of was his mother returning home.

Six months was an awful long time to be gone even for her. He tried not to worry, but with how often Aunt Margaret gossips with the ladies of her sister's possible untimely death. It had become awful hard to keep such thoughts far from mind. He looked in the mirror as he spiked his hair still holding onto his last piece of defiance from the person he was becoming. He hated all of it. The proper eating, the proper writing, the reading only historical books about things he didn't ever think he might start to care about.

In the past couple of weeks, Aunt Margaret had begun to be truly impressed by Alfie' s progress and as such she had started allowing him time outside to walk the grounds of their household. Every day Alfie would wander the grounds and let his mind go to those places that had become almost forbidden.

He'd wondered how the Hatter was doing, or whether the Red Queen was finally happy with her court and done chopping off heads. He'd start to make up stories and began dreaming of impossible things.

As the weeks drug on into yet another month, worrying became the least of his worries. He now hoped his mother would return, but found that those few minutes a day had made the weeks more bearable. He had also noticed that Aunt Margaret didn't mind his wandering either as it made him more tolerable and better able to hold his tongue.

Things between them had become almost civilized. Key word there being almost. She still treated him like a child half his age. Talking down to him and hushing him if he dared speak when company was over. He now simply wished that she would stop treating him like such a child.

One day, after one of their fights Aunt Margaret had yelled that his mother was dead and never coming home. He had screamed back and gotten a scolding for doing so. He asked how she knew and all she said was she was supposed to come home two weeks ago, yet do you see her because I know I don't. He knew she wasn't dead, that she couldn't be dead. Aunt Margaret refused to listen however, and so when Alfie went on his daily wandering he ran and ran. He ran until he felt as if he couldn't run anymore. Then he saw something out of the corner of his eye... a rabbit.

Being his mother's son, he began chasing the rabbit out of confusion. That's when he noticed the waist coat and pocket watch. Both of which perplexing him. He ran faster shedding off his suit jacket to pick up more speed. The rabbit jumped down a rabbit hole and Alfie called after him to wait. As he leaned further over, he began to fall and then went tumbling down the rabbit hole.

He passed bookshelves, and chairs. Things like lamps and dressers. He smiled as he was falling though. He was not afraid. He knew this feeling meant freedom, and he knew this feeling meant that it didn't matter what old Aunt Margaret said. As long as he dreamt of impossible things, his mother would always be alive.
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Author's note:

I'm so sorry guys, I know I haven't written in forever. School got crazy and then work picked up. I promise I'll push out as many chapters as I can in the next week or two while I have some down time.

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