This is not one of your sanitised fairytales. I did not stumble into Wonderland; I descended — through silence, through pain, through your cold indifference, until I struck a wasteland of ashes. I am not Alice. I am only another girl, prescribed poisons in white bottles, searching for keys to doors that were nailed forever shut. Rusted hinges, freedom nothing more than nightmare you called a dream.
Too many pills swallowed, too many tea-parties crushed.
And yet — though I am not Alice — I have wandered among the same madness: riddles and sorrows, stolen sanity, and Cheshire smiles. Hourglasses broken long before I was ever in this place.
And yes, we are all mad here. But you cannot keep me in exile, not in a kingdom you dare not name. I am not Alice. And so I choose to leave this place forever – even if I must tear a hole through the world itself.
