Alice (Alice in Wonderland fanfic)

My barefeet smacked the soft, mushy grass as I ran through the backyard. "Can't catch me!!!" I called, laughing. My brunette pixie held its place fairly well with the wind, but I figured that was from the amazing power of hairspray. I could feel the cool breeze brushing across my soft, rosy pink cheeks.

"Yes I can!" Suddenly, I felt a tug on my waist and soon met face-to-face with my boyfriend, John. As he kissed my smooth, rouge lips, I smiled, eyes softly closed in happiness. This happiness wouldn't last long though. Soon my life would be turned upside down and stretched inside out, but let's not give away the story...where was I? Ah, yes! John and I were kissing. This was one memory I would keep burned in the back of my mind forever. I wrapped my arms around his neck and continued passionately pressing my lips to his, then there was a faint call from the distance.

"ALICE!" The voice shouted.

"I've got to go..." I giggled, struggling away.

"No you don't," John pulled my waist back towards him and I lightly shoved him away playfully.

"ALICE!"

"I have to go!" I laughed.

"Fine," he released my from his gentle grip and I rushed off. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?" he called.

"Sure!" I shouted back.

"Oh and, uh, ALICE!"

"What is it now?" I groaned, halting.

"Thought you might want to know, your skirt is splattered with mud!" I glanced down at the end of my short, dark purple skirt. Sure enough, on the white fluff the filled the underside of the deep purple silk were large, brown splatter marks. I sighed, then continued running towards the house. Let's see. What else is untidy? I thought, slowing to a walk as I reached my front yard, though I still had quite a walk, I wanted to fix up myself the best I could. My lavander tanktop was wrinkled at the ends from twisting it nervously earlier as I had been waiting for John to arrive at our typical meeting place, World of Wonders Café. The purple nailpolish with sky blue swirls that covered my nails was all chipped and dirty, my hair had a few leaves flung about it, and lastly my feet were completely covered in mud. Mother would have a fit. "Oh well..." I sighed as I reached the back porch.

"Alice! Darling, what have you been up to?" she asked frettfully.

"Nothing important mother. Why? We don't have a banquette to attend or a tea party. I should be able to dress how I please."

"Yes, but my dear Alice, can't you dress the way you want without ruining your clothing and wear some shoes darling you look like a homeless child. Oh! And what HAVE you done to your hair!" She gasped. I quickly glanced into the mirror. My hair looked exactly the same as it had looked before I went out, the top spiked up in a fluffy mess and the back and sides brushed down, almost a mohawk, but neater.

"I like it..." I mumbled. She sighed and brushed off my skirt hastily. "Go inside and wash up, but please wipe your feet before entering, you know hiow Marietta dislikes cleaning up your messes." She gave me a concerned and sad look, then waltzed off.

"Yeah, I'll wipe off my feet..." I muttered angrily. I rushed towards the backdoor and picked up a towel. A clean, white, beautiful, expensive towel and swiped it vigorously across my feet. "How's that for clean?" I asked myself triumphantly, then continued inside. My family was rich. So, let's get one thing straight right now, my mother was a stuck-up ladylike person who enjoyed a clean house and good mannors. Give her that and she'll be happy. Obviously, we don't get along. Mother blames Papa. He was always the messier type, much more adventerous too. More like me. Our mansion had five stories, but we took off two, finding the immense size of the home too unbareable. So, now it's a three story home not including the basement. The walls are a yellowish white and there are large pillars on the inside to sustain the house. Basically, it's a dream mansion, but not my dream mansion, oh no, it's much too elegant to be my dream home, but the hot tub is satisfying. Anyway, on with the story. As I slid into the entrance hall, I saw a tall man standing at the bottom of the stairs, which were situated about three meters in front of me. He had a stiff, black suit on, the back dangling down to his hamstring. These kinds of suits always reminded me of penguins, though I wasn't quite sure why. A long gold chain dangled from a pocket in the top, right corner of the suit and his blonde hair was combed back and the ends dangled just below the tips of his ears. A pair of black rayban glasses were situated at the bridge of his nose. He looked proper, clean, and much too neat. Even his small moustache and goutee were slightly combed! He had been staring at his shiny, black shoes and rocking his feet back and fourth, which made him look much less proper. "Ahem." I coughed to get his attention and he looked up, startled. Then, as he saw me, his face softened and he gave me an akward smile and I could now tell he was extremely uncomfortable in his clothing. There was only one man in the world who had a smile like that.

"PAPA!" I shouted, dashing towards him. I rammed into his chest, grasping my arms around him. He was wearing cologne, it smelt strong and powerful, there was no way to describe it. As I ran into him he nearly toppled over, but hugged me back.

"I missed you too!" he exclaimed, laughing. "You did something different with your hair...I love it!"

"Thanks, but mama doesn't aprove." I sighed.

"Well, I think I can help change that." he winked.

"Your back early! Does mama know? And why are you so...elegant?" I asked disgusted.

"Who do you think squeezed me into this monkey suit?" he said, frowning.

"I should have guessed, but where are you two going?"

"Not us two, as I take it. It's us three." No wonder mama was in such a fret. I thought.

"Oh, but look! I've gotten your suit dirty! Guess you'll have to stay here with me!" There was one tiny smudge of dirt on his suit that could easily be washed off, but I'd try anything to keep from having Marrietta shove me into a dress.

"I'll just wash that off, your mother is looking forward to this, Alli." Father always called me Alli. Mother hated that, so naturally I loved it.

"Well, look at me! I'm so messy! There's no way I can get ready in time! Ah well! Next time!" I started to walk up the steps, but was grabbed by the waist. This reminded me of John, except it wasn't two arms, but one.

"Now hang on a minute there, kiddo!"

"Papa!" I squealed cheerfully. "I'm not a child anymore!"

"That's right! All the more reason for you to attend." I started to struggle away but he kept his grip. "You're going down with me! He ruffled his knuckles against the top of my head, gave me a light squeeze, kissed my forehead and said,

"Get a shower, meet me in the car. " Then, he released me. I groaned, then marched up the stairs. Marietta was waiting at the top of the steps. She looked me up and down.

"Well, what the bloody hell were you doing?" Her eyes were wide, sparkley green holes, a look of surprise painted sleekly across her face.

"I was outside."

"That doesn't--Nevermind, I won't try, come on, let's get you cleaned up." I liked Marietta to an extent because she wasn't like mama. At least now she wasn't. When I was younger she always gave me grief about not dressing properly, but I never listened, so one day she just gave up entirely. She had long, white hair and bright green eyes. When she wasn't wearing her uniform, a small black dress with an apron, she wore white slacks and white blouses. Occasionally, she wore a t-shirt and jeans, but that was almost never. Her skin was pale and she had dark rouge lips, the same color of her nails.

"Shower or jacuzzi?" she asked. I thought jacuzzi, but figured the shower would be quicker.

"Shower, I can get it started myself, Marietta, thanks though." I galloped off into the bathroom. After a quick shower, I brushed my hair and dried it, making a large curl it on one side so as to make it more elegant. I rushed into my bedroom and swung open the door to my walk-in closet, then walked inside. Slowly, I made my way to the dress section and searched for my favorite dress. It was papa's favorite too. It was sky blue and went down to my knees, puffing out, but not too much. The top part was sleevless and trimmed with black swirls. I grabbed a thick, black belt and clipped it around my stomach, which seemed to fit the dress beautifully. Then, I realised my nails were in need of repainting, so I removed the nailpolish and relayered the thin nail with a bright blue polish. As that dried I brushed my teeth, then checked the polish to see if it was finished drying. It was, so I took out the red nailpolish and painted simple roses on the nail. They were small and delicate looking, even though they were just doodle roses, they seemed realistic. Once that was finished drying, I grabbed my long, blue shawl and slid my dress shoes one, which were white boots that went halfway up my calf and had blue tips and black laces. The blue wasn't actually supposed to be there, though. I had been bored one day and wanted to make the shoes more interesting, so I dipped the tips in blue paint. Mother was furious, along with Marietta, but father just smiled and said, "I like them." He knew I was different, and he went along with it because he was different too. Sometimes I swore mother wasn't related to me in any way shape or form, but papa would just laugh and say that she was his wife and he recalled me coming out of her body. As I reached the bottom of the steps, papa took my hand and lead me down.

"Madame." he said elegantly.

"Papa, stop." I laughed. He grinned and we walked out to the car, arm in arm.