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Alice In Rockerland

What if Alice took a different kind of trip?

By Heather HagyPublished 10 months ago 22 min read

Alice exited the J. Depp Memorial Auditorium on a high, kicking off her heels and bounding down the steps to the mostly deserted parking lot. She’d stayed long after the crowd left the concert, seeking autographs from her favorite band, The Rosettes. Throat dry from cheering and screaming, feet throbbing from standing in her heels far too long, Alice made her way to a bench underneath a lamp post and pulled out her cellphone to text her sister, Lori.

A: Concert’s over. I’m outside. Can you pick me up?

L: I KNEW you went! I shouldn’t even come. I should just leave you there. I’m still mad at you for ditching my party.

Alice rolled her eyes. Lori had invited her to her dorm for a book party with her college-age friends. A book party. On a Saturday night. How boring! Alice had told Lori she’d attend just to get her off her back but then she ditched her sister in favor of the concert, catching a ride with friends. However, her friends left right before the encore, forcing Alice to contact Lori.

A: Lecture me later. Coming or not? I could always hitch a ride.

L: OMG, NO. I’m coming. Stay where I can see you. Be there soon.

Alice rubbed her feet and looked around. The lamp’s bright light hurt her tired eyes. She got up, grabbed her shoes, and moved to a nearby tree, sinking down onto the grass, her back against the tree trunk. She put her phone in her lap and closed her eyes, reliving the concert. She imagined she was onstage, in place of the lead singer, belting out the band’s most famous tunes. Then Lori’s annoying voice invaded her dream.

“Get your head out of the clouds, Alice.” Lori loved to say that to her. “You’ve got a nice voice. I’ll give you that. But stop daydreaming about being a rock star. You’re too shy to sing in front of anyone. And also, it’s not practical.”

Alice frowned. Practical – gah! Who wants to be practical all the time? Alice was seventeen, on the verge of adulthood, and she yearned for adventure, excitement, something more. But Lori was right – Alice was fearful of singing in front of people, especially a large group. So she only sang in her room or in the shower or in front of her cat, Dinah.

Sighing, Alice adjusted her legs and felt her phone slide off her lap. She opened her eyes and reached for her phone, only to watch it disappear into a hole at the base of the tree.

“Oh, shoot!” Alice exclaimed, reaching into the hole. She felt all around the inside of the hole but couldn’t find her phone.

“What the heck?” Alice turned and knelt, peering into the dark hole, unable to see anything. She bent forward and reached farther, up to her elbow, then her shoulder as the mysterious hole grew. Alice put her head into the hole and then suddenly she was sliding down, down, down into darkness.

After what seemed like an eternity of falling, Alice landed on top of a tall bush. Feeling herself sinking, she fought her way out of the bush before she got stuck in it. The bush, in turn, groaned deeply with each move Alice made. Freed, she stood on the grass, barefoot, realizing she’d left her shoes by the tree up there. Now she was down here. But where exactly was here?

Alice plucked bits of bush out of her long, blond hair, readjusting her black headband in the process. She brushed off dirt and leaves from her white crop top and short denim skirt and looked around. She appeared to be standing in a public park, but this was no ordinary garden. The bushes, trees, and grass were unnaturally bright green. The rows of colorful flowers resembled various musical notes. Larger than normal bees and butterflies hovered over the flowers and when one landed on a blossom, a tiny melody played. Alice heard quacking and turned to see tie-dye colored ducks paddling in a guitar-shaped lake. Feeling delirious, she stepped off the grass onto a smooth path painted to look like piano keys.

“Where am I?” Alice murmured to herself.

Suddenly a figure in a white hoodie and khaki shorts, riding a skateboard, came around the corner and shot past Alice on the path. The figure stopped, turned, and skated back to her.

“Who be you?” asked the young man in the hoodie. He wore mirrored sunglasses and a yellow bandana wrapped around spiky, white-blond hair. He removed his sunglasses and stuck them in his hoodie pocket, consulting the watch on his left wrist in the process.

“Uh, I be Alice.”

“I be Whitey.” He offered his right hand, and Alice saw that he also wore a watch on his right wrist.

They shook hands then Whitey began to ride in circles around Alice. “Are you talented?” he asked.


Whitey stopped, facing her, speaking slowly. “Do. You. Have. A. Talent?”

Alice’s cheeks reddened. “Uh, I can sing.”

Whitey’s face brightened. “Really! Well, let’s go then!” He grabbed her by the hand and started to skate away, pulling her with him.

“Wait! Stop!” Alice jerked her hand back, and Whitey stopped, hopping off his board.

“What is this place? How did I get here?” Alice gestured around wildly. “I’ve never seen things like this! I mean, look at that rock over there. It’s . . . it’s thumping!” She pointed at a large boulder in the grass that thrummed along to an unknown beat.

Whitey laughed. “That’s just a woofer rock. There’s lots of those around here.”

“But . . . but what IS here?”

Whitey tilted his head, a quizzical expression on his face. “Why, this be Rockerland, silly girl.” He consulted the watch on his left wrist. “Now, we don’t have time to discuss here, there, and everywhere in between. We’ve got to go before it’s too late!”

Alice crossed her arms and planted her feet. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where we’re going and why.”

Whitey tore at his spiky hair. “We need to get to the Shroom Club! For the Battle of the Bands! You’re the key, new girl. I’m sure of it!” He looked at the watch on his right wrist.

“Okay, fine, I’ll go with you. But only because I don’t want to be left out here alone with weird musical flowers and thumping rocks and wacky-looking ducks. But first, one more question. Why do you wear two watches?”

Whitey put on his sunglasses and sighed. “So many questions, so little time! Time, time, time. One watch for coming, one watch for going. Now come on, let’s go!” Whitey once again jumped on his board, motioning for Alice to follow him.

What kind of crazy adventure am I about to have? Alice thought as she jogged along in her bare feet, trying to keep up with Whitey.

As they left the park and entered Rockerland city limits, Alice noted one strange shop after another. There was Elton’s Eatery and Electronics, Gary’s Groceries and Guitars, Steve’s Shoes and Strings. It appeared that every store doubled as some kind of standard business and a music store. Alice had never seen anything like it. The people on the street looked ordinary but Alice suspected that if she really took a good look at them, they wouldn’t be ordinary at all. However, she couldn’t stop as Whitey kept on riding, looking at his watches, and yelling at her to keep up with him.

In the heart of the city, they came upon a compact, brown building with no windows and a single door. There was no sign and no address on the building, only multi-colored mushrooms etched into its facade. A small, mousy man with unkempt hair, wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and baggy pants, leaned against the front door, sleeping.

Whitey screeched to a halt on his board and tapped the mousy man on the head. “Doorman! Wake up!”

Doorman opened his sleepy eyes and yawned. “Oh, hey, Whitey. Didn’t think you’d make it.”

Whitey pulled at his hair. “I know, I know! Almost ran out of time! But I think I’ve found the one to join Tea Party.”

Alice looked puzzled. “We’re going to a tea party? I thought we were going to a club.”

Doorman started to say something but Whitey interrupted him. “Details, details. Let’s get inside. Then you’ll understand.”

Doorman opened the door for Whitey and Alice, bowing to them as they entered the club. He closed the door behind them and promptly went back to his nap.

“Welcome to the Shroom!” Whitey announced, mounting his board and skating around the room.

Alice’s jaw dropped. Compared to the tiny exterior of the club, the interior was massive. Mushroom-shaped tables dotted the room, the base of each table glowing in different colors. Stools resembling tree stumps surrounded each table. To Alice’s left was a bar that appeared to be constructed out of giant leaves and twisted branches. Bottles of all shapes and sizes containing bright, glowing liquids rested on branches behind the bar. To her right was a huge mushroom made of some plush, padded material. A small set of steps at the base of the mushroom led to the top which was decorated with shiny, silver-blue pillows. At the far end of the room was an enormous black and white striped stage on which a group of people were tinkering with their instruments.

I’m going crazy, Alice thought. How could this place look so small on the outside yet be so big on the inside? She felt dizzy, overcome by the illusion, and rested on one of the stools, her head in her hands.

“Who are you?” boomed a voice.

Alice looked up and gasped. A bald, pudgy man in satin silver-blue pajamas and matching slippers reclined at the top of the large mushroom, smoking a long pipe.

“I repeat, who ARE you?” The man stared at Alice with bloodshot eyes and a dour expression. “I’ve never seen you in my club before, and I know EVERYONE who comes here.”

Whitey skated by and jumped off his board, letting it roll forward and crash into a mushroom table.

“This be Alice, Mr. C,” he said to the club owner.

Mr. C gestured at the skateboard. “I told you not to ride that wretched thing inside my establishment.” He toked on his pipe. “Now why have you brought this Alice here?”

“For Tea Party, of course.” He motioned to the group on the stage.

Mr. C gave a creepy smile. “Ah, she’ll need a bit of bravery then.” He plucked a stuffed mushroom off a plate resting on one of the pillows and held it out to Alice. “Dear girl, take one of these. It will help.”

Whitey grabbed Alice’s arm. “No, no, thank you, sir. Not right now. She’ll be fine.” He pulled Alice toward the stage as Mr. C called after them.

“Good luck, dear Alice. You’ll need it!”

Once they were in front of the enormous stage, Whitey whispered in Alice’s ear. “Don’t eat Mr. C’s mushrooms. Ever.”

He turned to the band onstage. “Hey, fellas, I have a surprise!”

The band members, who had been gathered in a circle, stopped talking and turned around.

Whitey said, “Alice, allow me to introduce you to Tea Party. This be Matt Hatterly, the guitarist.”

A tall, slender figure wearing a purple velvet smoking jacket, black leather pants, and black boots smiled at her. He had long, wavy brown hair and wore a purple top hat with goggles attached to the hat band. He removed the hat and bowed to Alice. “Good day, beautiful.”

“This be Chester, the keyboardist,” Whitey continued.

A muscular man in a black and hot pink striped sleeveless t-shirt and black knee-length cut-off shorts, sporting a bright pink mohawk that contrasted sharply with his dark skin, stared at her. Like Matt, he smiled but his smile was very large and his teeth very white, intimidating Alice.

“And this be Timmy and Tommy, the drummer and bassist,” Whitey concluded.

Two round-faced, pale young men – identical twins – waved at Alice. They wore matching red and yellow track suits and white high-top shoes. They also had matching red bucket hats, each with a “T” on the front in yellow.

Whitey cleared his throat. “Boys, she be your new singer!”

Alice’s eyes grew wide, and she backed away from the stage. “Oh, no. No, no, no. There’s been some mistake.”

Whitey looked confused. “But I asked if you had a talent, remember? T-A-L-E-N-T. And you said you could sing!”

Alice’s face grew hot. “Well, uh, I can sing but I, uh, have a little problem singing in front of, well, you know, people.”

Everyone but Matt groaned. He jumped off the stage, approaching Alice. She could see that he wore a ripped t-shirt underneath his jacket, and she blushed.

Matt took Alice by the hands. “Sweet Alice, if Whitey brought you here, he must believe you’re the one. He’s the best talent scout in Rockerland, and he’s been searching near and far and everywhere in between for a new singer for us.”

“Yeah,” said Chester. He appeared behind Alice, making her jump. “Our old singer left us for fame and fortune in Popland.”

“There’s other lands?” asked Alice.

“Of course!” Timmy and Tommy said in unison.

“We once tried our luck in Rapland,” said Timmy.

“Our act was called T2T,” said Tommy.

“But they said we were terrible and kicked us out,” said Timmy.

“Yeah, kicked us out,” echoed Tommy.

Rockerland. Popland. Rapland. This is all too much, thought Alice. She buried her face in her hands, suddenly homesick.

Matt patted her back. “Here, here, Alice. It will be alright.” He removed his hat and withdrew a handkerchief from inside, handing it to her. “Dry your eyes. Now tell us, do you have a favorite band?”

“Y-y-yes,” Alice stammered, dabbing at her eyes. “The Rosettes.”

Matt looked at the other group members. “Boys, have you heard of The Rosettes?”

The twins shrugged. Chester shook his head.

“I know the words to all of their songs,” Alice said proudly.

Matt clapped his hands. “Great! Can you sing one for us?”

Alice looked distraught. “I have their music on my cellphone. But I lost it on my way down here.”

Whitey reached into his hoodie pocket, producing Alice’s phone. “You mean this?”

“Yes!” Alice grabbed the phone from him. “Where did you find it?” She checked it for a signal but found none.

Whitey looked at one of his watches. “No time for that, no time. We’ve got to hurry.”

“Whitey’s right,” Matt said. “Battle of the Bands is in a few hours, and we’ve just got to win! Tell you what – you play a Rosettes song for us on your phone and that’s what we’ll play tonight.”

“You can do that? Just play by ear?” Alice asked, incredulous.

Chester popped up behind Matt, grinning. “Well, you might have to play it once or twice.”

“Or three or four times,” said Timmy.

“Yeah, three or four times,” agreed Tommy.

Matt faced Alice, solemn. “But we still need a singer. Will you do the honors?”

Alice’s heart raced. Again, she heard Lori’s voice in her head. You’re such a dreamer, Alice. But you’re too scared. Be practical. Go to college and get a real job, like me.

No! Alice admonished herself. You’re in the middle of your first big adventure. Come on, girl, get it together! This is your chance!

Alice took a deep breath. “Damn being practical!” she exclaimed. “Damn being scared. I’ll do it!”

Matt pumped his fist in the air. “Woo-hoo! Come on, everyone, let’s go backstage and listen to Alice’s song.”

Matt led the group followed by Whitey, Alice, and Chester. Timmy and Tommy brought up the rear.

“This is getting curiouser,” murmured Timmy.

“And curiouser,” concurred Tommy.

The band spent the next hour sitting in a circle listening to Alice’s favorite Rosettes song, “Wonder,” over and over. Alice sang along, softly at first, eyes closed. By the end of the hour, she was comfortable enough to sing at full volume in front of the group.

Whitey looked at the watch on his right wrist. “Oh, my, it’s almost time for you-know-who to make her entrance. Gotta get my game face on.” He put on his mirrored sunglasses and adjusted his bandana.

“Who’s you-know-who?” asked Alice.

Timmy and Tommy exchanged glances. Chester stopped grinning.

Matt looked genuinely grim. “Her name is Red. She’s the leader of Red and The Spades. They win every Battle of the Bands challenge. Every. Single. Time.” He stood up. “But not tonight, right, boys? Tonight we’ve got Alice!”

Everyone stood and started chanting. “Alice! Alice! Alice!”

Laughing, cheering, they returned to the front of the stage just as Red stormed through the club’s front door. The Spades, a hapless quintet of men dressed head to toe in black, shuffled through the door after Red, hauling in their band equipment.

While Alice, Whitey, and Tea Party were backstage, the club had started to fill up with guests. As Red entered the room, they fled their tables and scattered left and right, heads down.

“Make way for the queen! Make way!” Red shouted as she strutted through the room. The Spades followed her wordlessly.

Red came to a sudden halt at the stage, staring at Alice. The Spades tumbled into each other, dropping their equipment.

Alice stared back as Red was a spectacle to behold. Her face was heavily made up with black eyeliner, dark eye shadow, and blood-red lipstick. She wore tight black leather shorts, a red and black corset top adorned with tiny hearts, and thigh-high red and gold boots with dangerously high heels. A tiny gold crown glittered in the mass of curly, fiery red hair that fell down past her shoulders.

Red pointed at Alice and screamed, “Who is this wench?!”

Whitey moved in front of Alice. “Don’t be rude, Red. She be Alice, and she just joined Tea Party. She’s a great singer.”

“Ha!” Red laughed. “She looks like a nobody from nowhere. She doesn’t even have any shoes on her ugly feet!”

Embarrassed, Alice looked down, forgetting that her feet were bare.

Red continued her assault. “How desperate you all must be to have this plain little girl sing with you tonight. Don’t you know that I always win? Always!” Red stepped closer, regarding Alice. “Unfortunate child, you have no chance. No chance! Now go cry in your dressing room, hahahaha!”

Red turned to her band. “Spades, attention! Unpack and set up! Pronto! We go first. As always!”

With a sigh, Whitey motioned for Alice and the band to return backstage. Once there, he whispered in Matt’s ear while Alice stood in a corner, looking forlorn. Matt approached her and took her by the hand.

“Come with me. I’ve got just the thing for you.”

He took her into a small dressing room outfitted with two short, padded stools in front of a wooden dressing table and a mushroom-shaped mirror surrounded by tiny white lights. Matt sat on one stool and motioned to Alice to sit on the other. He removed his top hat, reached inside, and pulled out a bottle of blue dye and a small paint brush.

“Let’s make you one of us,” he said. He opened the dye, dipped the brush inside, and began to paint blue streaks in Alice’s blond hair. When he was finished, he spun her around so she could see herself in the mirror.

A smile crept across Alice’s face, her sadness evaporating. “That’s pretty cool, Matt. Thanks.”

“I’m not finished yet.” Matt reached into his hat again and produced black and white striped tights and a pair of black booties adorned with tiny blue teacups. “A gift for you.” He placed his hat back on his head and left the room so Alice could change.

Minutes later, Alice stood before the mirror admiring the additions to her outfit. Now you look like a rock star, she thought. She stepped out of the dressing room where Whitey and Tea Party eagerly awaited her.

“Stunning!” Matt clapped.

Chester grinned, teeth gleaming. “Gorgeous creature, you are.”

“You look dope!” Timmy and Tommy said simultaneously.

Whitey checked his left watch. “No more time for flattery. Red’s about to go on. Let’s go watch from the side.”

The group descended a set of stairs that led from the backstage area to the front floor. They moved off to the side, away from the crowd that had grown considerably. Alice saw that Mr. C’s giant mushroom had been moved closer to the stage on the other side of the room. Mr. C still reclined on top, smoking and eating. He caught Alice’s eye and smiled, holding up one of his goodies. Alice shook her head and looked away.

Suddenly the club went dark, save for one spotlight on Red who had taken center stage. The crowd cheered wildly. Red ate up the attention, throwing up her hands. “Yes, yes! All hail the queen! This song is dedicated to Tea Party. It’s called Loser!”

The stage lit up with harsh, pulsating lights. The Spades began to play, a horrible cacophony of thudding bass, squealing guitars, and pounding drums. In the meantime, Red stomped back and forth across the stage, wailing into the microphone.

Alice leaned toward Whitey. “They’re terrible! Why is everyone cheering?”

“Fear!” Whitey shouted back at her. “She rules Rockerland’s music scene with an iron mike, in a manner of speaking.”

Matt joined their conversation. “She’s just crass and cruel. Time to end her rule.”

As the dreadful song dragged on, someone from the audience threw a white rose onstage. It landed at Red’s feet amidst dozens of red roses that had already been tossed up there. Enraged, Red stopped singing. The Spades’ playing came to an immediate halt.

“Red roses only! Only red! Who threw this filthy white rose up here?” Red screeched.

In the middle of the floor, a young man suddenly turned and frantically tried to make his way to the front door.

“Stop him! Stop him!” shouted Red. “Off with his head!”

The house lights came up and Mr. C’s voice boomed from atop his mushroom.

“That will be enough of that, Red,” he said, loud but calm. “Come, have a drink with me while our next act plays. And you were lovely, as usual.”

Seething, Red threw down her microphone and stormed offstage. The Spades scrambled to remove their equipment so Tea Party could set up.

Matt grabbed Alice by the shoulders. “This is your night. You showed up here for a reason. Do you trust us?”

Alice gulped hard and nodded, following the band onstage, a hard pit in her stomach. She refused to look at the audience as the band assembled their equipment. Minutes later, the house lights dimmed, and soft blue lights illuminated the stage. Lights obscuring her vision, Alice realized she couldn’t really see the crowd below her, and she sighed in relief.

“Good evening, everyone,” Matt said, tipping his hat. “We are Tea Party and we have a special guest with us tonight. Please give a warm welcome to . . . Alice.”

Matt began to strum the opening chords to “Wonder.” Chester chimed in on the keyboards followed by Timmy’s steady drumbeats and Tommy’s rhythmic bass. Alice glanced at Matt, biting her lip. He gave her a quick nod and reassuring smile.

Alice took a deep breath and began to sing. “The life we live is full of wonder. Try not to get pulled under. But if you do, you’ll make it through. I believe in you, I believe in you.”

In stark contrast to the loud, garish presentation by Red and The Spades, Tea Party’s performance of Alice’s favorite song caused a hush to come over the crowd, many of them swaying to the catchy tune. When Matt played the hypnotic guitar solo, they held up glow sticks, illuminating the room in vibrant colors.

Alice sang from the heart, closing her eyes now and then, savoring the moment. At last she came to the end of the song, singing the last four lines which were the same as the four opening ones. But she added one last line, whispering, “I believe in me now, I really do.”

The song ended. There was a brief silence and then the crowd erupted with enthusiastic cheers, claps, and whistles.

Alice ran over to Matt and hugged him while Timmy and Tommy high-fived each other and Chester just grinned behind his keyboard.

Mr. C descended from his mushroom throne and lumbered onto the stage to the microphone.

“Well, now, we must determine a winner,” he said dryly, sucking on his pipe. “All in favor of Red and The Spades?”

The audience clapped and whooped with a few people shouting, “Red! Red! Red!”

Mr. C nodded. “Yes, yes, we love our Red, don’t we? Now, how about Alice and Tea Party?”

The crowd responded at a deafening level with thunderous applause and foot stomping.

Mr. C waved his pipe at them. “Alright, alright, calm yourselves. Clearly, there has been an upset tonight.” He looked mournfully at Red who stood next to his giant mushroom, arms crossed, nostrils flared.

Mr. C surveyed the crowd. “The winner of tonight’s Battle of the Bands is . . . Tea Party.”

The audience roared. Alice and the band stared at each other in shock. Red turned and screamed at The Spades. They hustled out the front door, Red following close behind. At the door, she turned and, catching Alice’s eye, drew one finger across her throat in a cutting motion. Then she disappeared into the night.

Alice was too ecstatic to be worried. The band came forward and bowed to the crowd who continued to hoot and holler their praises. After a minute, Whitey came out and ushered them backstage.

“What did we win?” Alice asked breathlessly.

Matt laughed. “Bragging rights! That’s it, really. No trophy or any other prize.”

Whitey checked his left watch. “Uh, guys, I hate to do this but I have to get Alice outta here.”

“Why?” Alice asked, puzzled. She was having too much fun. She didn’t want to leave!

“Because Red will have your head,” replied Chester. This time he wasn’t grinning.

“Because you came in here all cocky,” said Timmy.

“So she’ll feed you to her jabberwocky,” finished Tommy.

Confused, Alice said, “But I didn’t come in here all cocky. I was scared to sing! But you all believed in me and made me feel like I could do it.”

Matt nodded. “Yes, and we love you for it. But now you have to go back to where you really belong. I bet it’s a wondrous land.”

“No, not really. It’s not anything like this place. But it is home. And I do miss it,” Alice said, somewhat reluctantly.

Alice hugged each band member while Whitey continued to fret, checking his watches repeatedly.

“Come, come, Alice. Now be the time!”

Matt removed his hat and bowed. “Goodbye, sweet Alice. Thank you for giving us a most memorable evening.”

“Yes, yes!” cried Timmy and Tommy. “Goodbye and good luck!”

Chester beamed and gave Alice a fist bump. “We’re all mad here, ya know.”

Skateboard tucked under his arm, Whitey led Alice out a back door and into an alley. He instructed her to be quiet and follow him. Silently, they crept through dark city streets until they reached the outskirts and the familiar path painted like piano keys. Half an hour later, they arrived at the point in the public garden where Whitey first found Alice.

A full moon shone bright, and a slight breeze caused the music note flowers to sway and emit tiny harmonies. The tie-dye ducks were gone, and the water on the guitar-shaped lake was still.

Whitey held out his hand. “It’s been a ride, Alice. Sorry to see you go.”

Alice ignored his hand and hugged him. “Thank you for everything. But how do I get home?” she asked, releasing him.

Whitey produced a mushroom from his hoodie pocket. “Eat this.”

“But . . . back there in the club . . . you told me not to eat them.”

Whitey smiled. “This one’s different. Somehow, some way, you came down, down, down to Rockerland. This will take you up, up, up to where you belong.” He placed the mushroom in her hand. “Trust me.”

Alice sniffed the savory mushroom. It smelled like garlic, onion, and something else, something she couldn’t quite place. Slowly, she put it in her mouth and began to chew.

Whitey watched her intently. “That’s it, chew and swallow, chew and swallow.” Satisfied that she’d eaten all of it, he put his skateboard down and hopped onto it. “So long, Alice. Have a safe trip!”

Alice’s vision started to blur as Whitey skated away. She wasn’t sure but she swore he grew rabbit ears.

Sometime later, Alice felt someone shaking her. Groaning, she opened her eyes to find her sister, Lori, standing before her, hands on her hips.

“Well, it’s about time!” Lori exclaimed, exasperated. “I got here and was looking all over for you, thinking maybe you’d been kidnapped. And here you are, napping under a tree in the dark. You didn’t even answer your phone!”

Alice looked down at her phone in her lap. She tried to turn it on but the battery had died.

“Let’s get out of here,” Lori huffed, pulling Alice to her feet. “And where’d you get those leggings and weird shoes? I don’t remember you having those.”

Alice looked down at her striped tights and teacup shoes and smiled. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Let’s just say it’s been a very curious night.”

Short StoryFantasyAdventure

About the Creator

Heather Hagy

Stephen King fan (but not like Annie "I'm your #1 fan" Wilkes cuz I'm sane and she's not)

Horror/supernatural are my favorite writing genres

Wife to 1 and mom to 4 humans, 4 dogs, 6 cats, and a dragon

"Jaws" is the greatest movie ever

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