“That crazy lady probably left this just to torment me.” Finishing the last of her wine, she set the glass down and got out. It took a second for the room to stop spinning. A silly grin split her face. She felt niiice.
The tiny blare of her bedroom TV filtered under the crack of the bathroom door. She hated silence, especially because she lived alone. She quickly dried off, grabbed her boy shorts and cami top off the towel rack, and slipped them on.
She’d not been able to resist the items when she’d spied them at a local boutique shop. The cami was a picture of Alice, bent over a table looking at the plate of cake with the sign that read: Eat me.
She tied her hair back into a messy bun, quickly brushed her teeth, and groaned when red drops plopped into her white sink. Alice reached for toilet paper, dabbing at the nosebleed until it stopped. Stress always worked weird things in her body and this was not her first nosebleed. It probably wouldn’t be her last, either.
Satisfied she was done bleeding, she tossed the papers in the waste bin, grabbed the card off her washstand and headed to her room. Thankfully, because she was sure the room was spinning. Needing to lie down, she plopped into the tangle of sheets and sighed.
Every bone in her body throbbed and her muscles burned. But at least they were no longer stiff-- the hot water jets had done wonders. Lifting industrial size mixing bowls all morning was no joke.
She flipped the card, obsessed beyond reason with why it’d been left there. Stupid that she should care. It was a dumb card. And yet...
Rub me.
Really? As simple as that?
It’s not that she hadn’t considered doing it from the moment she’d seen the card. But honestly, this wasn’t Wonderland. In the real world when someone left a card like this, that person was usually hiding in wait until you rubbed so he could then howl in laughter at how stupid you were.
Of course, she was alone now. Her thumb twitched, the obsession intensified tenfold.
She laughed. “I can’t believe I’m falling for this.” But her head was a little swimmy, the room slightly out of focus, and she was feeling just crazy enough to give in to insanity.
She rubbed her thumb across the words and waited. A quickening, like the flutter of moth’s wings pulsed across her skin. Alice sucked in a deep breath.
The clocks ticked.
The fake laughter of news anchors blared through her TV’s tiny speakers.
She snorted.
Nothing.
“You’re such an idiot, Alice. Tabby was right--”
“You’re late,” a nasally voice said.
It did not come from the TV.
Alice screamed and shot straight up. Every nerve in her body tensed for flight or fight. Her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. At the foot of her bed stood an enormous white rabbit in red livery, blinking huge bunny eyes back at her.
“No way.” She glanced at the card. It was blank.
“Come. Come.” He hopped toward the window, gesturing frantically.
“Whoa.” How much had she had to drink? Two glasses, three maybe? She rubbed her eyes. “You’re not real.”
He rolled his eyes. “As real as you, I’d reckon. Now come, come.” His hand...paws? … were on the window sill. He pushed it up, letting in a cool hibiscus-tinted breeze.
“As if.” Oh my gosh, she’d cracked. Her mother was right. Too much Wonderland and sugar had finally rotted her brain.
“Oy, why must all the Alices be so vexing?” the small voice growled. He hopped back to her. “Come.” He held out his paw.
She scooted back on her heels, bumping hard into her headboard. “Get away from me. You’re not real. You’re not real.”
“Bloody hell, Alice, you called and I came. But I must get back to me Duchess. So please hurry.”
She shook her head, denying his words. Not real. White bunnies didn’t swear. Or talk. Yeah, they definitely didn’t do that.
He hopped up on the bed and her stomach dove to her knees when the mattress caved in. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. This is so not happening.”
Soft fur touched her bare flesh. She shivered as he grabbed her wrist in a surprising hold, taking them both toward the window. She dug in her heels, but he was really strong. All she managed to do was drag her sheets along with her.
“We’re late...”
“For a very important date,” she added, giggling with a note of hysteria.
His eyes crossed. “Yes, well... upsy daisy now.”
Then his paws were on her butt and she slammed her hands against the window frame. The crazy thing was trying to shove her through the window. She lived on the eighteenth floor.
“Hell. To the N. O.” She wiggled, struggling. Her muscles flooded with adrenaline. Fear was a raw, consuming thing. She screamed, crying for help.
But it was no use.
With one final grunt, she fell.
Chapter 3