She opened her eyes, reuniting with Mad’s tree house; just as she remembered. A large looming tree, giant and gnarled, wrapped, and enveloped the home. It was similar to the tree that held the magical door in that aspect, but that’s where the similarities ended. It was a different species, taller and slenderer. Drooping leaves and vines, it washed the ground with an enormous shadow. A home was built into it, a mismatch design that had been constructed along the way, or rather, grew with the tree. The wood weaved intricately around each portion of the home, tenderly holding it in an embrace of warped branches, merging with the man-made object.

At the very top of the massive tree, there was the most normal looking part of the home. A small cabin with wooden shingles, and a large slanted “A” framed roof; old and dilapidated. It was the oldest part of the entire home, thus stood the tallest. With each growth spurt, additional rooms were constructed. There was a tower, built from cobble stone and extended alongside the trunk like a backbone.

Flowing into the next addition, a makeshift shack, held up from the base of the tree with an awning, slightly overhanging the tree. It was once a deck before it lifted off the ground. Adorned with mismatched metal shingles, a hodgepodge of scrap metal showcased its repairs. Its homely appearance contradicted the elegant, iron spiral staircase that kept it earthbound. That was Alice’s room in the past. She looked at it and felt a whisper of nostalgia wash over her mind, scrubbing at the fear and anxiety she had been feeling only a moment ago.

“Wow, it’s just as I remember it,” Alice mused as she fully stepped through the portal. She silently approached the table and the chairs that accompanied the home. A set made for entertaining with four chairs arranged together. Mismatched furniture that had been claimed by the yard. Spider webs crept along the nooks and crannies of the set, holding the legs together like a silk dress. The tablecloth had leaves and some bits of moss interwoven into its draped edges. The surrounding grass, although never tamed to begin with, had spots that were overgrown, peeking from the table’s legs as they grew tall and reaching.

“We used to have so much fun here,” Alice said with joy.  Vivid memories escaped her, but a feeling of nostalgia and comfort warmed her chest. It was instantly quashed, washed away, as sadness filled her statement with a realization. It hasn’t changed a bit. No one’s used it since she’d left.

How long had it been for Mad since she's been gone?  What had his life been like after she left? Guilt ran through her body as she imagined what it had been like. She had left without a word; he knew she must have gone back to the mortal world, right? He said so earlier but it had just been a guess. He must have moved on since then, right?  What was a timeless life of longing like for an immortal being?

Alice stood questioning these things, as her hand trailed along the edge, feeling the cool dampness of the tablecloth claimed by nature. She could ask him. She SHOULD ask him. But the words stayed in her mouth, swallowed by worry. Asking now felt inappropriate and wrong. Moments before she was trying to get away from him, from this place, from her feelings towards him, now she had questions. Personal questions about his life without her? How cold hearted and cruel it felt.

So, the words clung to the back of her mouth, quashed by her reasoning.

There was no point in asking anyways. Rest, then find a way back to safety. A battle between logic and emotions was wreaking havoc internally. She retracted her hand and placed it onto her right arm, tracing the scar she had there. Raised and faded, it was the only physical reminder she had of ever living in this world. She gingerly traced the taut skin, her face was barren, free of emotion. Her breathing was calm, but her eyes were lost in the distance as a memory played out in her head. She was lost in it before gingerly being pulled back into her newfound reality.

A warmth flooded against her back as an ethereal light danced behind her. Reaching tendrils of luminosity wrapped around the hand that cradled her scarred arm. Up and over, like brief, fleeting kisses, wisps of golden fractals glittered around her. It caught her by surprise as she felt the tender embrace of the aura caress her skin. It began to illuminate their world in a yellow hue and the echoes of laughter filled the air, radiating from an unknown source.

Alice held up her hand, allowing the falling glitter to pass through her fingers. A touch of happiness, a rush of heat, the pull of nostalgia had all but replaced those negative thoughts in her brain. Dissipated as she stood in wonder with the spell that had been cast.

“Can’t catch me!” A distorted voice trilled through the mist. A gust of warmth, a happy, giddy heat embraced her body as she finally pinned down the source of the laughter. A child pushed their way onto the table. An audible gasp left Alice’s lips.

It was her.

The child ran down the length of the table, golden hair in a high pony, a small frame of about ten, clothed in patched overalls. She saw it clear as day—herself as a child, slightly hazy and transparent, like looking at someone who stood right in front of a setting sun. A child formed in mist, glistening from the natural light that had peeked through the canopy. Light against light pushed the magic even farther, allowing those droplets of mist to sparkle and truly shine. That magical light formed the childhood version of her. It was so life-like. Like it was ripped from the very nostalgia that had been taunting her.

A misty version of Mad soon grabbed the child off the table. He looked the same, fire red hair, a crooked smile, untouched by time and age. He laughed and said something. The words were slightly jumbled and unclear like they were muffled by a cloth. Seeing the contrast had Alice’s chest churning with strange emotions. She was once so small, and Mad—the same—always looked the same. Unable to age.  Alice slowly turned back to the real Mad.

He looked away, ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Are you doing this?” Alice asked in bewilderment as she held out her hand to catch a piece of drifting mist as it started to fall like snow. She held it in her hand and watched as a slight breeze carried it off like snowflakes caught in a gust. With the wind, the scene changed; Alice and Mad again, playing in the misty snow. Alice was older now, and Mad—of course, looked the same. The misty forms now tossed snowballs at each other. The rambunctious Alice threw them much harder at Mad, he of course was unphased. There was happiness between the two.

A longing smile pulled at her lips. She had forgotten so much of this. Forced to forget. Replaced by mortal moments. Despite her best efforts, memories of her mortal life began to infiltrate her senses. She had no snowball fights, she had no one to play games with her. She sat alone, reading in bed most of her day, desperate to find hints of inspiration for a world that she no longer belonged to.  She was teased, she was humiliated, isolated and alone. Full of loss and longing she drifted day by day. Only existing. Never living.

Did she have to go back? Really? She felt the question pull at her insides, wrangling them, twisting, and churning as the fear snaked through her guts. Her heart said no, logic still dictated otherwise.

Memories of Wonderland replaced those of her mortal life. Fuzzy and warm, replaced dark and dreary. A mixture of feelings flowed one right after another within her own mind. They were real, all of it had been real. Wonderland hadn’t been a place made up of wants and desires. It hadn’t been a secret place her mind had created to escape her troubled life. It was real, these memories were real. The ones shared between the two were real. These memories that she could physically see right in front of her, projected by someone she had long been convinced was fake, proved that they had existed. These memories of growing up with him, a changing, aging mortal alongside a never aging immortal.

She had forgotten all the fun they had.

She was forced to forget—had forced herself to forget.

She wanted to forget. It didn’t hurt if she forgot.

But her heart never did.

Alice smiled and walked over to Mad. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes glistened with curiosity. Pulling the hat from his head, he crimped and twisted the brim in anxiety. Reluctantly, he admitted, “I can project my memories sometimes. I don’t know why it happens, and I don’t have much control over it, especially when I’m more emotional.”

“Why do you feel bad?” Alice asked, unable to ignore his worry. “Look at this.” Alice expressed excitement over the memories beginning to pop up all around them. “I had forgotten so much of this. It’s like a memory book.” Alice beamed from cheek to cheek. There were so many great memories here. With her, Mad and the others.

The others, that's right. She remembered there were more of them. Where had they gone? She turned to Mad wanting to ask but he grabbed ahold of her hand instead, forcing her question to stay at the bridge of tongue and lips. Distracted, a warmth spread across her body, giddy and filled with fluttering moths drawn to the flame that ignited inside.  A new life caused them to swarm, excited and re-born into something new. Alice’s feelings for Mad, they had always been there, never forgotten by her heart.

She had loved him once before.

She yearned all these years to find a love to replace this one that was as pure as snow. One she was convinced for sure she had made up. She chased and chased that high and had never been able to find it. Now that it was back, would it really be so bad to stay?

Her love, long lost between timeless time and worlds, stood right in front of her. With a smile as bright as sunshine, and kindness as soft and tender as the fluttering wings of a moth. She wanted to stay, reconnect with him, rebuild these happy memories.

She’d grown up in Wonderland, an aging mortal, with him, a timeless man. She’d grown to love him. She could do it again. Wanted too again.

But a sudden drop in her stomach froze the flame, as her moths fell, wings ripped away and wormed around sick and dying as reality reminded her once more of the night she left. A reality that had been hushed by nostalgia. An ache in her heart reminded her of their last night together. She wanted the memory to slide away again. She didn’t want to remember that particular one. Alice wanted to remember the day he finally accepted her love. She had coveted his affection, requesting and chasing it without faltering. Brazen and bold attempts at flirting as she grew. She told him she loved him practically every day until her feelings metamorphosed into unrequited romantic ones. They were casual proclamations of love, thrown in during unceremonious encounters. Her heart would beat rapidly as she looked at him and without prompting, she would blurt it out, startling and embarrassing everyone but him. He never looked flustered. He never looked surprised. He would just utter some semblance of, “sure, sure,” and move the conversation along.

Mad and Alice had gone on an adventure that day. Mad had been distracted packing something up as she overlooked the cliff between Wonderland and the universe. He had taken her there to watch the eclipse. A rare event that was the closest thing Wonderland had to mark the passing of a year; she had only seen it once before. Alice stood with her arms behind her back as she watched the largest beasts known to the world elapse each other for another year as they moved the sun and the moon across the stars. Alice felt a sudden yearning as she watched these giant beasts push with ease the orbs that lingered in the sky. The eclipse had already happened, the two had already overlapped one another. The sun beast took its lead over the moon, yet something persisted in its stride. It was slower than normal, lingering with longing, it gave one last glance back to the moon beast before relenting into its duty. Moving forward for another year, returning to its usual gait.

“They love each other, don’t they?” Alice asked, watching the two beasts pull further and further from one another.

“They do.” Mad quipped, still busy as he fixated on putting away the items they had brought. Their friends had long already left. Previous engagements had pulled them away, leaving Alice and Mad alone. Alice didn’t mind. She enjoyed these moments together. Cherished them.

“How do you think it came to be? They love each other yet can only be together for such a brief moment.” Alice mused.

“It’s a curse, to love someone yet unable to be with them.”

“I don’t think so. It’s sad, but they’re always chasing after one another. They’re always moving forwards just for moments like today. That’s really sweet. I bet they cherish each other even more.” Alice refused to break eye contact from the horizon. Eyes filled with deep understanding, empathy for the love drawn creatures.

“To love someone so completely, to just lose them after a brief moment together sounds like torture to me.” Mad finished fiddling with the packing. He finally stood up and glanced over at Alice, the warmth of the sun caused a delicate haze around her body. She turned around to face him then.

“Sometimes, a moment can mean everything, it can feel like forever. And that’s enough.” A smile glittered across her lips. “I’ll love you forever. No matter what. No matter how often you reject me. I’ll always love you. Forever and always.” Alice said enthusiastically, looking off into the distance once more, watching as the sun and moon grew further and further apart.

Mad chuckled, Alice prepared for his casual rejection once more, instead he asked a question. “Oh yeah, and how long is forever?” he asked with a bit of snark laced into that beautifully rich voice.

She didn’t respond right away. She continued to look off into the distance. “Sometimes, just one second.” She turned to him with a knowledgeable smile caressing her face, lifting so slightly the corners of her lips. And, for the first moment in her proclamations of love; a blush as beautifully vibrant and rich as his red hair filled his cheeks.