Wunderland : Concept

Who doesn't love magic?

I honestly hate car rides. The reason being the awkward silences. My usual instinct is to pretend to be asleep, as my Mom just kind of thinks of what to say.

“Tell me what happened, Vick.”

“.....”

“I know you’re faking it.”

“....”

“Victor!” She slapped me on the chest. Pretty hard, too.

“He came onto me in the bathroom.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Nelson has three kids.”

“Why would I lie, Mom?!”

“He’s not gay.”

“How would you possibly be sure?”

“We’re friends on Facebook.”

“....”

“Did you think he deserved it? What you did to him?”

No, of course he didn't deserve it. I don't know why I bother lying to my Mom, she sees right through me. The truth began to slip through, as if she was a witch casting a truth spell.

“He made fun of me in front of class.”

“Okay, what did you do?”

• -    -

A full classroom, but only the sounds of pens touching paper, and the occasional desk squeak. Mr. Nelson is at the front, writing on the whiteboard. Victor is observing one of his fellow students. He begins to scribble together a picture on his notes.

“Our protagonist idealizes the idea of ‘an eye for an eye.’”

    Victor was more focused on his drawing than anything else. Frankly, he didn't give a s**t about what Mr. Nelson was talking about.

“Beheading the antagonist was something he deemed necessary.”

     The drawing was now coming together. He didn't know what he had just created, but something about it was comforting. He then looked back up toward the teacher, who was already returning eye contact.

“How are your notes coming along, Mr. Hitzig?”

“I….”

“You think my class is a joke, don't you?”

“No….I…”

“Can I see your drawing, Mr. Hitzig?”

Mr. Nelson walked over to Victor’s desk, and snatched away his notes. Victor began to melt into his seat, too embarrassed to mutter a word.

“Oh, wow. Interesting. Does this look familiar, Ms. Pilchard?”

Tara Pilchard looked back at Victor. I would tell you what Victor is thinking, but it’s better you not know.

“Girls won't care about your drawing skills, Mr. Hitzig, if you can't even graduate.”

Victor looked down at his empty desk. He began to carve into the actual desk with his pen. The dismissal bell never felt louder. All the students left rather hastily, even Tara. Victor stood up, walking slowly toward the door.

“You need to start thinking about your future, Victor.”

Victor stopped at the door. A still moment of silence. Then he locked the door, the click resonated in his ears for what felt like minutes. He then turned toward Mr. Nelson, who was more into grading papers than noticing imminent danger. With every step, Victor’s heart rate increased. His hands began to shake, his eyes slightly watered. Mr. Nelson then noticed Victor standing inches away from him.

“Vic-”

The loud bang of skull hitting wood never sounded more sinister. Then again. And again. Mr. Nelson fell off his chair, his nose bleeding ferociously. Victor looked deep into his frightened eyes.

“Wha-what is wrong with you?” he was able to shakily release.

“Absolutely nothing.”

• -     -

The rest of the ride was pure silence. I didn't even know what to say her. The next couple of minutes were grueling. The only thing that mellowed us both out was my little sister. She was waiting for us on the front yard, like always, with her babysitter Peter.

“Vicky!”

I couldn't help but smile. She jumped into my arms and squeezed as tight as a six-year-old could.

“Hey, Jaz. What are you up to?”
“Me and Peter made really good brownies!”
“Oh? I’d love to try some.”
Peter smirked and looked up, “Yeah, we pretty much ate them all.”
“Brownies before dinner, huh? I hope you left some room for pizza.” Mom smiled and pulled two pizza boxes out of the trunk.
“Ooooooh! Yes!” An overexcited Jasmin ran toward the door, then tripped onto the pavement. The three of us fell silent, like anyone usually does after a child hurts themselves.
“Jaz, are you alright?”
“I’m okay!” Jasmin turned around, revealing a small but noticeable cut on her left eyebrow.
“I’ll get the first aid kit.” Peter comforted her, and held her hand as they both walked into the house.
“Vick, can you check the mailbox?”
I hate mail. Ever noticed how it’s usually coupons you’ll never use and bills you’d rather not pay? Although, for some reason, Mom thought she might need five dollars off her next dental check.
“Yeah, I got it.”
Inside there was nothing but a black, horizontal envelope. In blood-red ink, “The Taaffe Family,” as well as our address.
“Mom, I think someone in your family died.”
“What?”

“There’s this weird envelope using your maiden name.”
“Where’s it from?”
“It doesn’t say.”
“We’ll check it out after dinner.”

There was something about this envelope. It’s like it wanted me to open it. I turned it over, staring at the v-shaped fold. I wedged my nail under the point of the fold, and began to slide it.
“Vick.”
Mom was giving me a really stern look.
“Can we just enjoy our dinner before I get more bad news?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
I slipped the envelope in my back pocket, and followed Mom into the house. Peter was already setting out some plates, while Jasmin was feeling her Hello Kitty Bandaid.
“Does it hurt, Jaz?”
“No. I’m tough.”
“Of course you are, you’re a Hitzig.”
Mom smiled as she started opened up the first pizza box. God, I love pizza. The smell, the appeal. It’s incredible what the combination of dough, tomato sauce, and mozzarella cheese creates. Simple beauty, just like the Mona Lisa. Peter didn’t look too impressed, but you can tell Jasmin and I loved our fix of greasy deliciousness.
“Don’t worry, Pete. I didn’t forget about you.”
She grabbed the second box, and handed it to Peter. He opened it with a confused look, then he let out a roaring laugh.
“Fish tacos. You are honestly the best, Sis.”
“Let’s eat, Hitzigs and company.”

Something was strange about this dinner session. There was this noise. It sounded like it was directly behind me. No one else seemed to notice it, though. It kept getting louder. Pete noticed my uneasiness.

“You alright, Vick?”

“Yeah, I’m….”

The noise started getting even louder. It was like a lullaby, with no words. On a constant loop, only getting louder with each verse. Then, I realized what it was.

I pulled out the envelope from my back pocket. It was fully opened.

“Vick, really?”

My mom looked disappointed, but still somewhat as curious as I was. Inside was the source of the noise, a blood red card. On the front, some kind of insignia. But on the inside…..it was completely blank.
With no prior warning, a puff of black smoke emitted from the card, hitting me in the face. I fell back, dropping it onto the table. After getting back on my feet, I noticed everyone else at the table facing the card, enticed and also terrified. The smoke was still emitting, but it starting spelling out a word. Mom looked at Peter, who returned the look, and then looked back toward the card.
“You….Have….Been….Summoned.”
What surprised me the most was Jasmin. She was smiling, like she knew exactly what was happening. Peter and Mom were both still, unsure of whether to run and hide, or continue watching. After the words faded into the atmosphere, I could see Jasmin about to whisper something.
“To…...Wunderland.”
She had mouthed the words on cue. She knew what was happening, and for some reason, there was this glimmer in her eyes. As if she was in some sort of gleeful trance.
“Jaz,” I wanted an answer, “what’s going on?”
All she did was point toward the spooky card in the center of the table.
“You…...Will…...Leave….Soon.”
Mom looked at Jasmin, hoping to get a response as well, but to no avail.
“Bring…...Nothing.”
The three of us were now all looking at Jasmin, who was just bouncing with excitement. A few moments of silence passed by, Peter started getting uncomfortable.
“Nope.”
“Petey, you’re part of the family!”
“Sorry, Jasmin, but it’s a big-a*s nope.”
“It’ s going to be fun, Petey! I promise!”
Jasmin got up from her chair, and started skipping toward the door. As she skipped, she was singing some kind of song, along with the tune of the card.
“Everybody knows! There’s nowhere else to go!”
“Jasmin, where are you going?”
“Seriously, Jaz, you’re creeping me out.”
“Wunderland is the place to be! You will never have to leave!”
“Jasmin!”
She opened the door, pulling it wide open for the rest of us to see. A long boardwalk, with nothing else in sight, but a gate. The gate to Wunderland.

Author's Note

This is essentially just a concept. I'd like to actually make a book out of this, but I wish to know if it's an interesting premise.

Reviews

[Robert Parlange]

This is a good “hook.” You should explore this further. I do like your writing style. You have a talent.