Suicidal Thoughts and Impulses – How CAN We Battle Them?

Suicidal thoughts and impulses are more common than most people would like to believe. The people who suffer from them often feel alone, and people who have never experienced them find it hard to believe so many others do. I want to take a look at ways that we can battle them, from both perspectives.

First of all, let’s get it out of the way, the reason I feel qualified to talk about this is simple: I, too, suffer from suicidal thoughts and impulses at times. Mine are in no way as severe as most cases, and my level of depression allows me to deal with them easily. But they’re there, and they’re scary. When I’m in the throes of depression, all I can think of is how worthless I am. I can’t see any positive aspects of myself, and think of myself as a complete failure. Sometimes outside influences trigger the episodes, but it’s never the fault of anyone but myself and my brain’s inability to handle stress and hurtful situations.

The thing is, I’m not worthless or a failure, although I am by no means successful. I know that. And when I start to wonder if I have any pills in the house that could kill me, or how I could get the blades out of my razor, I remind myself that I have two little boys who count on me, a husband who loves me, and a mother and various family and friends who care about me and love me.

You know what happens then? My brain starts to tell me how much better off all of them would be without me. That is the hardest part about battling this. Because it is so incredibly hard to convince yourself that the people in your life would NOT be better off without you.

To anyone else out there who battles with depression and suicidal thoughts, the most important thing I can tell you is this:

NO ONE IS BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU.

I wish I could look at each and every one of you right now and scream that into your faces. I have to scream it at myself in my head every time to snap myself out of it. You have no idea the profound effect your suicide would have upon every life that you have touched. Your friends may not keep in touch sometimes. Your family may get busy and forget about you for short bursts. But your death will still devastate them like nothing else could. I have been on the outside, too. Although I’ve not lost a loved one to suicide, I have had the people closest to me attempt to kill themselves or threaten to the point of hospitalization. It leaves a scar upon your soul that can never be erased. There is not a single person who has ever known you that won’t ask themselves how they failed you, why they didn’t try harder to show you how much you were loved.

Don’t believe me? Let’s look at some recent examples.

The young man in the center of that photo is Daniel Kyre. Daniel was one of the three founders of the YouTube gaming channel Cyndago. He also teamed up with Mark Fischbach, better known as Markiplier. If you haven’t heard of Markiplier, he is one of the biggest YouTubers out there. He’s been to the White House, was on Jimmy Kimmel, and is one of the wealthiest YouTubers around. Daniel lived with him, worked on his channel, and was supported by him on his own channel.

The thing is, Daniel was successful, talented, and well loved. He seemed to have everything going for him. On September 16, 2015, Daniel committed suicide.

Millions of subscribers are mourning his passing, wondering how in the world this happened. If you have any doubt of the impact his suicide has had, watch this video:

Markiplier has made hundreds of videos, is one of the most well spoken and respected members of the YouTube community, and almost a week after Daniel’s death, he still cannot hold it together. He’s rambling all over the place, breaks down in tears, and can barely speak of his friend without cracking. Does it seem like he’s better off?

If you would like to donate to Daniel Kyre’s family to help offset the costs of medical bills and funeral expenses, you can visit the gofundme campaign here.

Robin Williams was by far my favorite comedian. I’d been entertained by him since I was a little girl watching Mork and Mindy. Nanu Nanu! His comedic genius made Mrs. Doubtfire what it was. Hook was one of the most fun movies I can remember from my childhood. Is the world better off without him? No, the world is hurting and suffering from the loss of him, even after so much time has passed since his suicide. I still am brought to tears by the thought of his passing.

No matter who you are, where you are, or how successful you are, somewhere, somehow, you have touched someone’s life. You have family, you have friends, hell, somewhere you smiled at a cashier and made their day, and when they learn of your suicide, they will grieve, they will grieve hard, and they will torture themselves wondering how they could have kept you around. Don’t do that to them. Don’t deprive people of the effect you have on their lives, the joy you might be able to bring someone, even if it’s only momentary.

And to everyone else, I implore you, tell the people you love that you love them. If someone brightens your day, tell them. If a certain cashier always makes you smile, let them know. If you care about someone and you know they suffer from depression, check on them regularly. Mean it when you ask how they are, and listen. And if someone is threatening to kill themselves, do not under any circumstances ignore them.

You never know who is feeling suicidal. There is absolutely no way to tell. One kind word, one small gesture, could be the thing that stops someone from killing themselves for one more day. And if, and I hope this never happens, but if someone you know goes through with it and commits suicide, it is not your fault. You’ll never believe me, I know, but it isn’t.

Sometimes we can’t prevent it.

That’s the worst part of all of it, is that sometimes nothing will stop a person. But I sincerely hope that, with enough awareness and enough compassion and education, we can prevent a lot more. I know I certainly plan to try, and I hope you will, too.

If you are feeling suicidal, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK. I beg you.

To learn more about how you can help raise awareness and donate to education efforts, visit the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

Alice’s Broken Looking Glass, Part IV

Greetings! Here is part 4 to Alice’s Broken Looking Glass, hot off the presses! I will be trudging along at a good pace on the story now, as I’ve had several publishers show interest in the pitch. Disclaimer: if it gets published, I will not be able to post its entirety here. But for now, please enjoy it as it zips along the tracks! ~Alice

If you have not read the first 3 parts, start here.

They walked down the hallway, past the staircase and around a long curve, until they reached the terminus of the hall. It ended in a large pair of wooden doors, one of which was standing open in welcome.

They entered through the open door, and inside was a study of such grand scale, you wanted to call it a library. The ceilings were 20 feet high, and the walls leading up to them were lined with bookshelves, all full. A rolling ladder stood against one wall. All of the walls curved gently in one direction or another, so that the room was not square. The walls curved in or arced away for what seemed like miles in each direction.

On the opposite side of the cavernous office stood another pair of double doors, these made of steel. Four sets of deadbolt locks were seated in the center, where the doors met. In front of these doors was a desk.

As they walked closer to the desk, Alice began to make out the features of the man sitting behind it. He seemed familiar, but his flamboyant mode of dress confused her. He was a very tall man, his skin so dark it reminded her of the ebony of the piano keys in her family’s parlor. His eyes were a light yellow gold, the color of honey, and coupled with the bright whites of his eyes and sparkling teeth when he smiled, were in stark contrast to his skin.

He wore a three piece suit in a bold purple color, with a top hat to match. A monocle hung on a chain from his lapel, and the chain of a pocket watch dangled from the flap of his waistcoat. He rose from the chair, his face split with a grin, and held out his hands as he came around the desk.

“Ahhh, there’s our girl! And looking fresh as the morning dew. How are you feeling, my dear?” His voice was very deep, but pleasant, with music to it. It was so familiar to her, and she felt as if she knew him, but for the life of her she couldn’t place where she might have met him.

“I am well, as well as can be, under the circumstances, that is. Forgive me for asking, but do I know you?”

He laughed, the books on the shelf seeming to vibrate from its undertones, and exchanged a meaningful look with Jacob. He reached out his arm and draped it about her shoulders, leading her around the desk as he spoke.

“You do, but perhaps not. How is a raven like a writing desk?”

She stopped in her tracks, turning to face him. “You!” She stared at him, studying his face, his eyes, his body. “But it wasn’t you. Was it? Oh, I wish you would stop playing games with me! I do not like it anymore, not one bit!”

She stamped her foot, crossing her arms over her chest and behaving very much like the little girl who first entered Wonderland. She knew it, she recognized it, but emotionally, she was still a little girl. And she was so frustrated with riddles and puzzles that she got angry.

“My dear Alice, come into the laboratory. Mirana is waiting there for us, and she’ll help me to explain it all. I promise: no more riddles. I’ve had far too many of them for my own taste.”

She looked to Jacob, and he smiled and nodded, reaching out and squeezing her elbow gently. She took a deep breath, one last examination of Theophilus, and nodded, dropping her arms back to her sides.

“Alright, then. If you promise no more riddles.”

Theophilus laughed his rich, hearty laugh again, and opened the laboratory door. They all entered, and he closed and locked it behind them.

Only 9 days left in the Kickstarter campaign to record an Alice in Wonderland audiobook! Please spread the word!

The Year Gone By

A short story I wrote back in 2007, when I was trying to impress my dark writer husband, whom I had just started dating. Be forewarned- it has made grown men cry. Enjoy! ~Alice

The road stretched out for miles uninterrupted before her. She stared down its length, taking slow, deep breaths and trying to steady herself. She followed the yellow stripe in the middle, almost wishing that a car would come along and strike her into oblivion. But it was too early in the morning for that, she knew. People didn’t drive down this highway much at 4 a.m.
She took one final deep breath, closing her eyes and inhaling the fresh scent of the morning dew. She normally loved this time of day, but today happy thoughts refused to come. It had been exactly one year since her world had turned to dust, and it was time she faced her demons, ready or not.

She walked slowly, calmly, her hands dug deep into her pockets and her eyes straight ahead. She tried not to think about what lay beyond the curve of highway, just beyond the yield sign. A sign that just one year ago had been hidden by the branches of the bush that had only recently been torn out.

Her feet made soft thumping sounds as her sneakers touched down on the asphalt. Her steps were heavy, and it seemed to require immense effort to lift them the closer she got to the sign. Her breath began to hitch in her chest, and she blinked rapidly, pushing herself to move on to her final destination.

She reached the sign, and tears began to stream down her face as she extended her hand, her fingertips touching the cold metal. A shiver ran down her spine, and she closed her eyes, trying to block the images that flooded her mind. She needed to go around, to see…. but it was too hard, too painful. She didn’t want to look. But she had to.

Slowly she walked on, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She hugged herself in defense against the chill in the air, and also the chill brought on by memories. She inhaled deeply, trying to let the crisp air clear her lungs, but her breath continued to hitch as the sobs began to catch up with her. Tears streamed down her face, and she pressed her lips tightly together to stop herself from crying out.

She opened her eyes. Across the road were two white wooden crosses, one large, and one small. She couldn’t stop herself now. She opened her mouth and wailed as she crossed the road, her feet stumbling, her hands reaching out into open air as the memories flooded her vision. She was no longer looking at the crosses, but at a film reel that played in her mind whenever her guard was down….

She awoke to a peal of laughter. She opened her eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight filling her bedroom and rolling off of her stomach, looking around and finding her husband gone. She heard another squeal, coming from downstairs in the kitchen. She smiled and rolled off the bed, slipping into her robe and slippers as she headed for the stairs.
The house was filled with windows, because she loved the sunlight. They had searched for over a year for the perfect home, and when they stumbled into this one by chance, she had known it was the one. The sun’s rays dappled the kitchen and living room, falling upon the scene that greeted her at the base of the stairs.

She laughed as Scott lifted Ryan high into the air, his small feet kicking wildly as his father’s fingers dug gently into his ribs. His blue eyes sparkled as he reached down and honked his daddy’s nose. Scott laughed and turned his head as he saw her stepping off the bottom step. He set Ryan down, smiling, a twinkle in the blue eyes that matched his son’s.

She smiled as she felt her cheeks flush. They had been married for five years now, and he complimented her incessantly, but for some reason she still blushed every time he looked at her that way. She looked down as Ryan came barreling towards her, a grin plastered on his face and his arms flung wide at his sides.
“MOMMY!!” he yelled just as he hit her, his arms wrapping tight around her legs, his eyes squeezing shut as he hugged her.

She reached down and hoisted him up, settling him on her hip and grinning into his cherubic face. The chubby cheeks that went with childhood were irresistible to her, so she gave in to temptation and gave them a little pinch as she planted a loud, smacking kiss upon his lips. He giggled and hugged her neck as she walked towards the kitchen. She felt so loved…

The highway was dark at this time of morning. They were trying to get home in time for Scott to get to work. He had a big merger they were closing on today, and he was already feeling guilty for leaving town for the weekend. She watched him as he drove, and she could tell he was already entering business mode. His jaw was set, his eyes stern as he concentrated on the road. He frowned and blew at a strand of jet black hair that had fallen across his forehead.

“I need to get a haircut. I wish I’d thought of it this weekend,” he complained. “I’m gonna walk into this meeting looking like a shaggy dog.”

She chuckled at his serious attitude as she turned and looked into the backseat behind him. Their son, three years old and the spitting image of his father, dozed in his car seat. His head was leaning against the side, his mouth hanging open as his chest rose and fell with each breath. She smiled and sighed as she studied him, her little angel.

She turned and looked at the road as Scott slowed for the curve ahead. It was still dark at this time of morning. Just as she turned towards the passenger’s side window, she gasped as she saw a large, beat up pickup truck barreling towards them. She screamed and grabbed for the handle above her door as a screech of brakes rang out.

The quiet, dark morning was suddenly filled with noise. The screech of metal tearing into metal, the thud of impact as their car hit a tree, her own screams. And suddenly everything went black…

The mark was still on the tree behind the crosses. The bark had been stripped away by the car as it scraped up its trunk, and the wood beneath was charred from the heat of friction. There were still bits of glass from the windows, which had imploded from the crash, safety glass spraying the inside of the car and the area surrounding it.

She clutched her arm, feeling the pain as if it were fresh, and her heart ached so badly in her chest that it felt as if it might explode from the pressure. She fell to her knees, touching the smallest cross as if touching her lost son’s face, caressing it gently, sobs wracking her body and making it convulse.

She looked down to the ground, watching her tears fall and form a small puddle in the dirt. She looked back up at the tiny cross, falling forward towards it onto her hands and knees. She touched it again, the grief too much for her to bear. She laid down, in front of both crosses, and closed her eyes, sobbing into her fists and convulsing, wishing she would have died with them, her angels.

Alice’s Broken Looking Glass, Part III

Here it is, the third installment of “Alice’s Broken Looking Glass”! I hope you’re enjoying the ride as much as I am. When I’m finished with the story I will be publishing it as a novella, so keep your eyes peeled for that! I’ve added some rewards to my Kickstarter campaign involving the novella, so check that out, too! ~Alice

If you haven’t read the first two installments, click here to start Part 1.

Alice entered the house through the steel doors, her hand resting on Jacob’s elbow. Her head whipped from side to side as she tried to find whoever had opened the door. Jacob smiled and patted her hand as they came to a stop in front of a set of grand, wide marble stairs that curved up and split to either side. The marble had been stained a deep purple color, and the bannisters had been leafed in gold.

“Theophilus has a control for the doors in his study and his laboratory, so he does not have to come open it when he’s working. He sometimes has guests in the middle of the night, especially when he’s in the middle of an experiment, and the servants are gone at night.”

Alice simply stared at him and nodded, her mouth forming an “O”. What he was saying sounded like a foreign language to her. Her father was a scientist, but she had paid no attention to his work or his comings and goings.

He tugged gently on her arm, leading her up the stairs.

“Theo and Mirana wanted to greet you when we arrived, but I thought you might appreciate a bath and clean clothes before meeting them.” He led her around the curve to the right, and up to a wooden door set into a plastered wall. He opened the door.

“I thank you, that was very kind.” She was dazed as he led her into a bright pale blue room, lit up by sunlight pouring through white gauzy curtains. A stone tub was set into the corner, and a small woman in simple cotton skirts and cap was dumping a bucket of steaming hot water into it. She turned as she finished, curtsying to the pair and exiting the room.

A blue dress made of soft cotton, simple in cut but dressed up with lace ruffles at the neck and cuffs, laid on the large four poster bed.

“I’ll leave you to it, my lady. I will wait outside the room, you need simply open the door when you are ready. Please take your time, I know all of this must be a great shock to you.”

Alice whispered a thank you as he left the room. She walked to the tub, and touched the water with her fingertips. It was hot, almost too hot, but it set her into action. She reached down and grabbed the hem of the disgusting nightgown, yanking it off over her head and practically jumping into the tub.

She hissed through her teeth as the hot water stung her skin, then relaxed down into it as all the tension in her muscles drained out of her. She laid there for a long time, until the water had started to grow cold, before she picked up the brush and soap lying on the edge of the tub and started to scrub. The water was a myriad of browns and grays by the time she was finished, and her skin was bright pink when she stepped out of the tub. She wrapped herself in a huge fluffy robe that was lying on a table by the tub, and walked over to a vanity in the opposite corner of the room, right next to a window.

She stopped in her tracks as she glimpsed herself in the mirror. This was not the girl she had last seen in a looking glass. She was at least a foot taller, and her face was no longer round with youth. Her cheeks were sunken, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She gingerly pulled apart her robe, and could only stare at the body that lie beneath it. As she had noticed at the hospital, she had breasts now, large and round. Her waist was no longer the girlish width of her hips, but tiny compared to the swell of her thighs and buttocks. Her ribs, collarbone, and shoulders were no longer covered with the pudgy flesh of her youth, but stood out beneath her skin. And she had, she noticed with horror, grown hair both on her legs and between them. She hurriedly pulled the robe tightly around her and sat down on the bench.

On the vanity table before her were a fine comb made of pale bone, with a matching brush and hand mirror. There were several little pots and tubs as well. She opened the closest one, and found it to be filled with a soft, oily substance, milky white with just a hint of yellow to it. She sniffed at it, and it smelled of a mixture of flowers and lemons, which she found quite delightful. She remembered her sister had a little pot similar to this, and she would rub the substance at the base of her throat and on her wrists. Alice touched her finger to the substance, getting a dab of it and rubbing it at her throat. She sighed with pleasure as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the scent.

She picked up the comb and began to work through the knots and tangles in her long, blond hair. It was matted in places, and took quite a while to untangle. She thought about her situation as she combed. Who was Jacob, and who were these people whose house she was in? Where was her family? They said she had been in that hospital for five years, but all she could remember was her time in Wonderland. Had she really been there, or had it all just been a dream? The doctor said she had talked about what happened to her there nonstop, and wouldn’t interact with the real world, but to her, that WAS the real world. A tear rolled down her cheek as she combed the last of the knots from the ends of her hair. She felt so lost.

As she laid down the comb, she began to sob. Her whole world was gone, as well as the world she had left it for. These people had rescued her from the hospital, but what if she needed to be there? Was she ill? And what did they plan to do with her now?

She dried her face with the sleeve of her robe, and stared at herself in the mirror. As she stared, she came to realize something: she was not a little girl anymore, and although she hadn’t had the experience of growing up, that was exactly what she was going to have to do. Wherever her family was, they weren’t here to take care of her, and obviously hadn’t been for some time. Crying and feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help her.

She took a deep breath, got up from the bench, and went to the bed. She opened the robe and let it fall to the floor. She found a pair of small clothes lying next to the dress, and slid them up her legs. She pulled the dress over her head, slid her arms into the sleeves, and reached behind her to lace up the back. She found the laces, but found that no matter how she tugged, she couldn’t get it laced correctly. She grunted and whined as she struggled, walking over to the mirror and looking over her shoulder to try and see what she was doing. It was no use, she couldn’t do it. Her first instinct was to throw herself on the bed and cry again, but she shook off the thought, held her head high, and marched to the door.

She threw the door open. Jacob was slumped against the opposite wall, and leapt to his feet as soon as he saw her. She tried not to notice his wide eyes and smile, and turned her back to him.

“I have tried and tried, but I cannot lace my dress. I have never worn a dress like this before.” She tried not to sound petulant, but failed.

Tears threatened at the corner of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She waited for him to say something, but he stayed silent. Just as she looked over her shoulder, he stepped up behind her. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers brushed over the back of her neck. He tugged the fabric at the top of the dress together, and began tightening the laces as he worked his way down.

“I am sorry, my lady. It never occurred to me that you wouldn’t be used to grown women’s clothing. It was very thoughtless of me.”

He tied the laces at the waist of the dress and stepped back. Alice turned to him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. She was ashamed of herself. She clasped her hands together in front of her and stared down at them.

“No, please, I shouldn’t have been nasty. Thank you for your help.”

He reached out and took her hands into his, squeezing them gently until she looked up into his eyes. He was smiling encouragingly.

“Shall we?” He gestured with one arm towards the staircase. She nodded and took his other arm, and off they went.

If you’d like to read Part IV, you can find it here.

Attachment (from The Crumbling Mansions)

A really great perspective from Stephen Heard.

A new entry from my in-progress book on homelessness …

This is Phoenix again. I guess you could call this an update on where I’m at with helping a population I value greatly, and that is, the homeless population.

Today I did outreach work, passing out burritos and hygiene kits, and helping those in need.

I don’t know quite where to begin, and so it makes the most sense to just … process. Process my thoughts, my feelings. Process my fears, my experiences. Process my expectations, my failures.

Today’s outreach went really well. And yet, I feel like something is missing. I don’t know what that is yet. I should feel a strong feeling of accomplishment. I should feel a strong feeling of satisfaction.

And yet, I don’t. There’s something missing. Something crucial, is missing.

It’s because, I’m attached, and the emptiness and loneliness that comes from attachment has made…

View original post 1,492 more words

Alice in Wonderland Campaign Update – New Rewards Added!

There are only 2 weeks left in my Alice in Wonderland campaign, and it is stuck at 4% funded. To generate more interest, I’ve added some wonderful new rewards! Some of the rewards will even be fulfilled whether or not the campaign is funded!

For $5, I will upload a video to YouTube of me doing any silly thing you want. (No nudity or obscenity, obviously.) I’ll cluck like a chicken! I’ll sing the diarrhea song in a Scottish brogue! Anything you want, just name it, and it will be posted within 24 hours of the contribution. You get this reward whether the campaign is funded or not!

I’ve also added several rewards involving my ongoing story, which will be made available as a novella when complete. You can get a .pdf of the novella along with the audiobook, and you can even have yourself appear as a character in the story!

Please give my campaign a look, and if you can’t donate, you can still help me out by sharing! Only 14 days left to get funded, I need all the help I can get!

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1035852187/alices-adventures-in-wonderland-audiobook

Alice’s Broken Looking Glass – Part II

Here is the second installment of “Alice’s Broken Looking Glass”. My husband insists I continue the story and serialize it, and he’s stubborn as a mule. I do hope you enjoy it! If you haven’t read Part 1, you can find it here.

Jacob held Alice’s hand as she stepped through the exploded hole in the wall, trying to be modest in the thin nightgown. She straightened up and tugged on the hem of the gown.

She gasped as her eyes travelled up the side of an elegant wooden carriage. It was shaped like a teapot. The spout was an elegant scrollwork on the back, the handle the curved railings on the sides of the driver’s bench. It was all painted a deep, lustrous purple, with delicate golden filigree details around the edges and door.

Jacob opened the door and stepped aside, holding his hand back out to Alice. “My lady, we must be quick.”

She blinked in shock and began to correct him, as she held no title to warrant being called “my lady”, but there was a crash behind her as several doctors and nurses flooded into the hospital room. She turned at the sound, and arms encircled her waist and hoisted her in the air, tossing her into the carriage rather roughly. She landed on her hands and knees on the carriage floor as Jacob leapt in behind her, shouting.

“Go! Now!”

There was a thunderous noise, and she was thrown against the back bench as the horses took off at a gallop, the wheels rumbling loudly on the cobblestones. She reached up and grabbed the bench, pulling herself into a sitting position, and rubbed her shoulder where it had slammed into the bench.

Jacob sat on the opposite bench and leaned over, offering his hands to help her pull up onto the bench.

“I’m very sorry, my lady, but we couldn’t risk them getting their hands on you again.”

She sat on the bench across from him, tugging down her nightgown and folding her hands in her lap. She studied his face. He was quite handsome, she thought. He had honey brown eyes and a shock of auburn curls that fell onto his forehead and over the tops of his ears. He was dressed smartly, and carried himself well.

“I do not understand at all what is happening. I thank you for getting me out of that hospital, but where are we going?” She bit her lip as the enormity of her situation began to sink in. She had lost five years of her life. She had no idea where her family was. Were they looking for her? Had they forgotten about her? How did she get into that hospital? A tear began to roll down her cheek, and she wiped it hastily away with the back of her hand.

Jacob’s eyes broadcast sympathy, and he got up, turning and settling onto the bench next to her. He reached over and took her hand, putting his other on top, cradling and rubbing her hand in both of his.

“I know all of this must be terribly confusing for you. We’ve tried to get you out for some time now. For five years now we’ve been working on pulling you back, but we only had our breakthrough this morning.”

She stared at him, another tear rolling down her cheek. Her lip quivered, and her voice caught as she spoke.

“But who are you? And where are my parents, my sister? I would very much like to go home, thank you.” She looked down at her lap, at his hands holding hers, lying on her leg. It seemed inappropriate all of the sudden, and she blushed, pulling her hand from his and sliding over against the carriage wall.

He reached for her, then thought better of it and laid one hand on his knee, the other reaching up and scratching at his head absently.

“I don’t even know where to begin. I should let Theophilus explain. He’s in charge of the whole operation, along with Mirana. You are safe, though, Alice. Finally, you’re safe.”

The carriage turned a sharp corner, and Alice slid across the bench, crashing into him and pushing him against the wall. The carriage slowed as it straightened out, and she moved back over and went about straightening her disgusting nightgown, her cheeks fully red now. Jacob merely chuckled. He reached across her and took hold of a short rope by her head, pulling on it to slide open a small door in the carriage wall. It was a window, and beyond it was a great forest of oak and maple trees. Hundreds of squirrels, mice, and rabbits could be seen scurrying here and there in the underbrush, some of them standing on hind legs to inspect the carriage as it rolled noisily down the dirt track.

“Ahh, we’re almost to the Hattery. All will be clear soon enough, my lady.”

Alice stared out the window, watching the trunks and leaves of the trees float past her, marveling at the sheer abundance of woodland creatures. After a few minutes, the dirt road curved off to the right and turned in a full circle around a huge mansion. The carriage rolled to a stop in front of it, and Alice stared out the open window, disbelieving what her eyes were telling her.

“Here we are! Come, I’ll have the serving girls draw you up a hot bath, and you can pick a pretty dress to wear to meet Hatter and the Queen.”

Alice took his hand and stepped out of the carriage, staring up to the gigantic building in front of her. There was no one style of architecture, but rather an immense mixture of them all. Gothic peeks joined with rounded gingerbread eaves, Roman columns supported Italian marble balconies, and stained glass masterpieces peeked out between mullioned glass windows with painted country shutters. She had never seen anything like it. She linked her arm through Jacob’s and walked up a short set of stone steps to enormous double metal doors, which creaked open with a groan as they approached.

You can read part 3 here.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1035852187/alices-adventures-in-wonderland-audiobook

Update on Alice in Wonderland Kickstarter

“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.” 

My Kickstarter campaign, to record an audiobook of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, is stuck at 4% funded. I’m trying to have faith that it will happen, but I’ll admitted, I’m downhearted.

I’m not quite sure how I can get people as passionate about the project as I am. I absolutely love reading children’s books aloud, and this is one of my favorites. I also desperately want to get fellow actors involved, to bring even more life to the characters.

I’m not in this to make money. I’ll admit, it would be nice, but that’s not the point. I’m passionate about this project. I’m excited to do it, and I think people would really enjoy it if it goes on the market. I’m almost to the point where I’m ready to save up for the equipment to just do it myself, but I’d never be able to afford to publish and market it.

So give me some tips or ideas, good friends. What would make you want to donate to this campaign? What would you like to see to get you interested? I probably need a new campaign video, but how do you think it could be improved? What kind of contests or promotions would work well with this? I’m paying for Facebook ads, a few dollars here and there, and it’s getting some attention, but no donations. I can’t afford to hire anyone to promote it.

Ideas and suggestions are more than welcome, and very much appreciated. Sharing as well! I thank you all for your time in even reading this.

~Alice

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1035852187/alices-adventures-in-wonderland-audiobook

Where the Stars Shine Brightest

It’s short story time again! Enjoy, and feel free to comment and let me know what you think! ~Alice

A cold, wet, rainy day had settled upon the town. Fitting, she thought, for the task at hand. She took a deep breath, grabbed her umbrella and her purse, and opened the car door.

She opened the umbrella out of the door and stepped out under it. Her skinny black heels sunk into the wet grass. She cursed as she closed the car door, dislodging the heels to take a step, only to sink back in again. She knew better than to wear them, but they were his favorite of all the shoes she owned.

She held the umbrella and her small clutch purse in one hand, and smoothed down her skirt and hair with the other. She straightened her spine, looked straight ahead, and began to walk to her destination. She was determined to be strong. Her shoes made a loud schluck noise with every step. She had to walk very carefully to avoid losing one.

She approached her destination, and her knees began to wobble. She wanted to turn back, to rip the heels off, toss them away, and run as fast as she could to her car. She couldn’t, though. She knew she had to do this. She owed him this much, at least.

When she reached the tombstone, she stopped and stared at the bouquets of flowers lying on his grave. His mother and sister, she was sure. She had made sure to come later in the day to avoid them. It’s not that she didn’t like them, or was afraid of them, she just needed to do this alone.

She stepped closer, until she was about 3 feet from the tombstone, standing directly over where his ashes were buried. She stared at the tombstone, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I miss you.” She took a deep breath as the words caught in her throat. She needed a moment to compose herself. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. That was a mistake.

As soon as she closed her eyes, visions coalesced in the darkness. He was walking next to her, their hands clasped together, fingers intertwined. They had just left the movie theater, and were heading to their favorite bar to meet with friends. They took a shortcut down an alley a few blocks away from it, and halfway through, a man jumped from behind a dumpster, a gun in his hand.

“Wallet and jewelry, now.” He was dressed in black, with a ski mask pulled down over his face. They were both dumbstruck for a moment, and he squeezed her hand tighter as it started to sink in what was happening.

“Give him your wallet, honey. We can replace whatever’s in it. Give it to him.” She pulled her hand from his and slipped her purse from her shoulder, holding it out to the robber. “Here. Please don’t hurt us.”

The robber took the purse. Her love looked at her, frowning, as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “This isn’t right. Why are you doing this?” The question was directed to the robber as he held his wallet out to him. The robber took it without answering.

They were waiting for him to leave, but he was staring at her hand. Her engagement ring, a 2 carat princess cut diamond winking from the setting, had caught his eye. They had only been engaged for a week. “I want that, too.” He gestured towards her hand with the gun.

Her love looked down at her hand, and his eyes went wide. He shook his head violently. “No. NO! You can’t have it. Not that.” He took a step in front of her, between her and the robber. The robber raised the gun, pointing it right at his chest.

“I said give it to me. Take another step toward me and I’m puttin’ a bullet right in your heart, man. Just gimme the ring!”

“Honey, we can get another one. Here.” She was trying to slide the ring off of her finger, but it was stuck. She started twisting it back and forth while tugging, trying to get it to budge.

“No! I said no. You can’t have it. There’s plenty of money in my wallet and her purse, that’s enough. Now get out of here.” He took another step between her and the robber, and her head snapped up. She gasped.

“Honey, don’t!”

It was too late. His blood splashed across her shirt as the bullet exploded out of his back, punching a hole the size of a grapefruit as it exited. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, collapsing under him as he fell backwards.

She opened her eyes, the tears flowing down her face in streams that rivalled the falling rain around her. She choked and sobbed, falling down on her knees in the wet grass on his grave. The umbrella fell to the side, but she didn’t care. She didn’t even feel the rain as it pelted her, her fingers ripping at the grass, digging into the mud.

“Why?” she sobbed. “Why couldn’t you just let him… let him have the fucking ring!!”

The ring hung from a slim gold chain around her neck, and she reached up, gripping it, and gave it a hard yank. The chain snapped, coming loose in her hand, dangling over his remains deep under the ground.

“I still have it. Are you happy? I still have the god damn ring, but I don’t want it!” With this she flung the ring and chain down. It landed against the headstone, making a small clink as it hit and bounced to the grass. “I’d have rather had you. I want you. I need you, not the fucking ring. It means NOTHING without YOU!”

She collapsed, her arms folded against the headstone, her head on her hands, weeping. She had no idea how long she laid there, feeling the ring pressing against the side of her hand as her tears flowed over it.

When she sat up, opening her eyes, the rain was gone, as was the sunlight. Her eyes still stung from bright light, and she shielded them as she looked around. She was no longer in the graveyard, nor sitting in grass and mud. The surface beneath her was soft, supportive but flexible, as if she was sitting on pillows. She looked down and noted it looked like a cloud, or the stuffing from inside of a plush animal.

She looked around her and gasped. The world she knew had disappeared, and was replaced by a vast expanse of dark sky, with bright lights shining against it in all directions. Some were far off, and looked like the stars as viewed from earth, but some were very close, and looked as big as a soccer ball inches from your face before impact.

One was so close that she thought she could touch it, if she stood up on her tiptoes and stretched. The center was a swirl of light, fading as it extended outwards. It’s glow had a blue cast to it, reminding her of her love’s eyes in moonlight.

Her grief at the thought overcame her sense of wonder, and she flopped back onto her butt, a tear rolling down her cheek. She pulled her knees to her chest and laid her head on them, unable to focus on the beauty and mystery around her as visions of the murder visited her again. Just as her shoulders started to shake, a hand touched her back.

She dove forwards and flipped over, scrambling backwards as she looked to see what had touched her. She stopped moving, stopped breathing as her eyes settled on her love, standing in front of her, a small smile playing upon his lips.

“Hi.” His voice sounded the same as always, deep and yet soft, lulling her, calming her with a single word. She could do nothing but stare, open mouthed, as he stepped forward and crouched in front of her. “Surprised to see me?”

She nodded slowly, still staring. A million thoughts flew through her mind at warp speed at once, but she couldn’t settle on one long enough to voice it. He smiled and watched her, seeming to understand her confusion, sitting down a few feet in front of her and crossing his legs.

“How?” she managed to spit out. She couldn’t grasp how he could be here, sitting in front of her, wherever ‘here’ was. He looked just as he had the night of the movie. He was even wearing the same clothes, minus the bloodstains. He shook his head, the smile faltering on his lips for a moment as he stared down into his hand. He looked back up at her, his blue eyes broadcasting his pain.

“Here, you dropped this.” He held out his hand, and lying in his palm was her engagement ring. “I died for this. Please don’t lose it.”

She stared at the ring, and the rage she felt in the graveyard swept over her again. There was venom in her voice as she spat out her reply. “I didn’t want it, and I still don’t. That ring only meant something to me when you were alive. Do you really think that ring was worth your life?”

He sighed and looked back down at the ring in his palm. He shifted it so that it was gripped in his thumb and forefinger, and turned it this way and that, watching the starlight gleam off of the facets in the diamond. His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“No, I suppose it wasn’t. I can see that now.” He looked up, his eyes fixing onto hers. “Our love was worth everything, though. To me, that ring was a symbol of our love, a sign that we would be together forever. I should have known better, but I didn’t. I’m so very, very sorry.” His voice was shaky and seemed to catch in his throat.

She shook her head, staring at him, tears welling in her eyes. She reached out her left hand towards him, her fingers straight and stiff. He took his cue and slid the ring onto her ring finger, just as he had the night he had proposed. She choked back a sob and threw her arms around his neck. His arms encircled her as she shook, her tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt.

“Am I dead now, too?” she asked. She wasn’t sad about the prospect, but she was afraid of his answer. She wanted nothing more than for him to answer that yes, indeed, she was dead, and they would be together forever more.

“No, baby. You’re not dead, just sleeping.” He rubbed her back as she sobbed. Her crying went on for quite some time before she sniffled, leaning back to look into his eyes again. He smiled and reached up with both hands, wiping the tears off her cheeks. When they were gone, he leaned in, his hands still on her cheeks, and kissed her lips slowly and softly. When his lips parted from hers, they both sighed.

Suddenly, a loud voice echoed around them, the source unknown. It seemed to come from every direction at once, echoing as it bounced around the stars and clouds.

“HEY! Hey lady! You need to get up, lady. You need an ambulance?”

Her eyes shot wide open, knowing what it meant that they were hearing that voice. She mouthed the word no, unable to find her voice, and he grabbed her shoulders, forcing her attention to him, not the voice.

“Listen to me, we don’t have long. I know you miss me. I do. I’m so very sorry that I was so stupid. I didn’t want to leave you. You’re my everything. But whenever you miss me, whenever you need me…”

The voice got louder, booming in their ears as it echoed and reverberated through space. “HEY LADY! You gotta get up, the cemetery’s closed now!”

Everything around her began to dissipate, including her love. She screamed so loud that she almost didn’t hear his final words, and once the real world drifted back around her, the rain soaking her clothes, hair and skin, she fought hard to remember them. The night watchman shook her shoulder, and she looked up at him, her hair pasted to her face, her clothes glued to her skin.

“Finally, you’re awake! You need an ambulance? I can call one.”

She blinked a few times at him, then shook her head, looking around her on the ground and retrieving her purse and umbrella. She stood up, and just as she started to lift the umbrella over her head, the rain stopped. She closed the umbrella and put the strap around her left wrist. As she did, she noticed the ring on her finger.

She reached down and removed both of her shoes, ignoring the watchman as she headed towards her car. She was covered in mud, and it was squishing up between her toes, but she didn’t care.

When she reached the car, she opened the door and tossed in the umbrella, her shoes and purse. Suddenly light glinted off the diamond on her finger, and she looked up at the sky, taken aback at how many stars were visible after it had just rained. As her eyes passed over a particularly bright patch of them, his words returned to her.

“…whenever you need me, look for where the stars shine brightest, and there I’ll be, looking back.”

Smoky Lady

I wrote this silly story to go with the artwork posted below. I’m quite proud of the artwork, and wanted something to post with it. Hope you enjoy! ~Alice

Joe braced the two foot blue water bong in between his thighs on the couch, leaning over to push his mouth against the top opening. He struck his lighter and lit the bowl, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke fill the bong and his lungs as he pulled the lighter away. He pulled his mouth away and held his breath, holding the smoke in for as long as he could before coughing, long and hard, and handing the bong over to Steve.

Steve laughed. He took the bong and pulled out the bowl on its stem. “I got a new strain today, haven’t tried it yet. The weed man said it’ll ‘blow our minds’. We’ll see about that.”

Joe coughed some more and nodded, waving his hands around, trying to dispel some of the smoke that was clouding the room. All of the air was a thick haze.

“What’s it called? The names of this shit always crack me up. Is it Kush? Diesel? Sour Yummy Berry Fairy?” He laughed and coughed a bit more.

“I know, right? This one’s called Smoky Lady.” Steve finished breaking up the pot, which had a faint blue color to the crystals sticking to the bud, and packed the bowl. He slid the stem back into its seat in the bong and held it out to Joe. “You want first hit?”

Joe shook his head. “Naw, man, go ahead.” He watched Steve pull on the top of the bong as he lit the bowl, and gasped as he watched blue smoke funneling up into Steve’s mouth. “Dude, it’s blue!”

Steve sputtered and shook his head, tendrils of smoke escaping the sides of his mouth as he inhaled the rest of the smoke in the chamber. His eyes went wide as he watched the blue tendrils snaking upwards around him, holding his breath and handing the bong over to Joe. He blew out a big cloud of blue smoke.

“Wow, I thought you forgot it was a blue bong. How the fuck is the smoke blue?” Joe shrugged and started to hit the bowl. “That’s just crazy, dude. I hope there’s no chemicals in that shit. It tastes good as hell, though!”

Steve nodded as he held his hit in, passing the bong back over. Blue smoke was now crowding the room, stinging his eyes. They each hit it one more time, then set it on the end table between the chair Steve was sitting in and the couch. They sat in silence for a while, both slouching back in their seats, totally high .

Joe noticed that the smoke was beginning to swirl around in the middle of the room, condensing to thick tentacles and circling in the air. He squinted, then made his eyes wide, trying to assure himself his vision was screwy. It wasn’t. The tendrils began whipping through the air in a mass, and he heard Steve gasp.

“Do you see that, man?” Joe nodded, sitting forward and staring at the snakes of smoke as they began to condense into one writhing mass of smoke tentacles. From its center, a form began to take shape, two small blue lights shining amongst it. A woman’s face pushed its way through the tendrils, dispelling some, while others swirled around her face, her hair nothing but wisps of cobalt blue smoke.

Once her face appeared almost solid, he could see she was a beautiful woman, except for the whole being made of smoke thing. Her lips were a dark blue, her skin appearing a blue tinged grey. Her eyes glowed electric blue as they swayed from side to side, scanning the room. They landed on Joe, and her lips parted. A long, thin tendril of smoke snaked its way towards him, and before he could move, it wiggled its way up his nose.

“Hey, leave him alone!” Steve yelled, jumping up from his chair. Joe was already lost. His eyes were rolled back in his head, his mouth hanging slack. Steve looked around the room, trying to find a weapon. He spotted his Louisville Slugger resting in the corner, and dove for it. A tendril of the blue smoke missed the back of his head by a few inches, hitting the wall above him. He turned and swung the bat wildly, but all it did was shift the smoke, which just coalesced into the woman again.

Joe stood up from the couch, his eyes still rolled back, the whites glowing blue. He stumbled, much like a marionette on strings, towards his friend, his arms hanging out in front of him. Steve backed up, smoke tendrils wrapping around his arms and ankles. He flailed wildly as he realized it, and circled the room, trying to keep his distance from Joe, but his eyes on the woman’s face.

He searched with his hands on shelves, tables, and furniture, hoping to find something that would make the apparition go away. At first he thought that maybe hallucinogens had been laced into the pot, but Joe shambling towards him with those eyes was more real than anything he had seen in his life.

He bumped into the corner between the chair and the couch, where he started, and marionette Joe closed in on him on one side, the woman’s face floating forward to keep him trapped in the corner. Steve took a deep breath, trying to brace himself for violence, and some of the woman’s hair disappeared into his mouth. The face wavered for a moment, an angry look crossing her face. A light bulb went off over Steve’s head.

He blew that breath out quickly, and then walked towards the face, sucking in smoke as quickly as his lungs would allow. The woman looked as if she were going bald: the tendrils of hair smoke were disappearing as Steve sucked them in. Joe halted in his tracks, jerking and spasming.

Steve blew out the smoke and took another deep, deep breath, moving again towards the woman’s face. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as her face began to dissolve, the smoke that made it up making its way into Steve’s mouth. He exhaled and inhaled again, and all that was left of her was her glowing blue eyes. They looked around the room frantically as Joe fell to the floor, his eyes closed, slumped against the chair.

“You’re pretty, bitch, but I’m nobody’s puppet.” Steve opened his mouth and moved forward again, wrapping his lips around the two glowing blue orbs and sucking them in, then swallowing.

Joe woke up a few minutes later, to see Steve sitting on the couch, his stare blank and his mouth hanging open, and rubbed his eyes.

“How high did we get, man? I don’t remember anything after lighting a bowl of that new shit. That dank was so strong it knocked me out!”

Steve turned and looked at him, about to ask him how he forgot the woman, but decided to just leave it alone. He nodded and laid his head back on the couch, closing his eyes and trying to will a buzz back.