So I was Alice in Wonderland

So I was Alice in Wonderland

A Story by Mary Gatlin
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Alice is stuck in wonderland however it is a different kind of wonderland, it is one that is home to her addiction. She will do anything just to get that one hit, but will she be able to leave?

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Its funny when sometimes people say that when you hit rock bottom the only way to go is up, but they never really mention the possibility of you falling back down. And I fell... hard.

 I guess my story begins in the first few steps I took into college, at that time I had everything set up for me perfectly. College was meant to be this wonderful experience into a whole new world and prepare me for my future, little did I know that the “whole new world” was more like a never ending maze of mistakes. And I was Alice in wonderland.

School life for me was just pressure after pressure, growing up in a family where the tiniest mistakes could lead to a terrible punishment. It was because of this that I ended up growing up with a perfectionist attitude, which for most people was a turn off, but I didn’t mind it and in the end I was able to make some new friends, friends that my mother would surely not approve of. Then again she never approved of much.

 At first it started out with a little bit of weed, some friends had managed to convince me, the same way they managed to convince me to try my first bit of cocaine. The experience was intoxicating. With just that one bit I was sent into this abysmal of never ending astonishment. Everything was a whirlwind of color and sound, the dullest moments would prove to be the most exciting. It was like a drop of water in vast desert that was my life. Soon enough my amazement with cocaine came to become a full on addiction. I stopped going to school and would spend most of my days in the abandoned old house a couple of blocks away from the campus, which was locally known as a crack house, but for me it was more like a playground, filled with new toys to try and new experiences to explore.

 It didn’t take long for my parents to find out, all I can say about the confrontation with them is that even to this day we don’t speak anymore. All they said to me that cold rainy afternoon was to pack my things and forget that I had a family, but they were wrong, I did have a family. My family was my drugs, they’d keep me safe from any harm and would comfort me when I needed them.

 Most people didn’t recognize me when they saw me pass by them in the streets, hell I wouldn’t recognize me if I saw myself in the mirror. I became lost in all that was evil. Eventually I ran out of money and couldn’t pay for the drugs, my priorities soon became only to get money and then spend it on crack. I worried about getting the drugs first rather than figuring out where I would sleep. Sometimes it would be on the corner of a street, other times it would be in a cheap motel sleeping next to a stranger whom had taken advantage of my situation for $200 although I would sometimes charge extra depending on what type of man the customer was. In the end it didn’t matter to me, cocaine managed to do things to me others in my life hadn’t been able to. It had set me free.

 It was an ordinary night when I met the stranger in black. I was out of money again and needed some fast. I walked into a nearby gas station and used their bathroom to get ready, the manager whom had also been a client of mine for sometime would let me use his bathroom in exchange of my body.

 I stared at myself in the smudge stained mirror, the girl standing in front of me was a complete stranger. This girl had ashy dirty blonde hair, and two dull green pools of emptiness for eyes. She was not the girl I was meant to be looking at, but still this girl was me. This weak, skinny looking girl was me. I was dying from the inside out. My skin had gone from a healthy bronze glow to a pale grey. If I were in a halloween costume party I would definitely win, I sometimes wish this was a costume and that I could just shed my skin. This skin that has seen so much abuse and torture over the past few months. I didn’t mind selling my body because in reality to me there was nothing there. I had lost my innocent self a long time ago and this person was but a mere shell. I splash some water on my face, and re apply the black eyeliner I have been sporting so much these past few days and quickly changing my dirty old converse sneakers into a pair of black stiletto heels. I was the cover girl for crack addicted prostitutes everywhere.

Briskly I leave the small gas station in hopes of getting my money earlier. I hated living this life, I couldn’t manage the feeling of disgrace and guilt that washed over my body. I stood in the same spot, waiting for a desperate customer to come and hire me for one night of meaningless satisfaction. However this night was different, there was a calmer sense to the once so violent wind that would send chills through my bones.

 While waiting for a possible job opportunity this rickety old man begins to approach me. I try not to notice him and pretend as if I don’t see him in hopes he would just walk by me. Instead he stands motionless next to me for a good ten solid minutes. Not one of us wanted to break this strange silence. For some reason unknown to me, I felt a sort of comfort having that old man next to me.

“Why are you here?” He asked breaking the silence with nothing but a piercing bullet that went through my soul. No one had ever taken the time or concern to ask me why. The worst thing was that I didn’t have an answer. Because truth is even I myself don’t know why I became this person, I thought I had a strong enough personality to be able to say no, but standing here with blisters on the soles of my feet, and bruises all over my body, any idea that I had of once being strong willed is quickly turned into nothing but a distant dream.

“It does not have to be like this...there is always a way out.” The man spoke again. I suppose he took my silence as I sign that I had no idea what I was doing. He began to walk away after speaking those few words, but something inside me was telling me that wherever this man was going was exactly where I needed to be. So I followed him, I’m not sure what will happen to me now but all I do know is that it will definitely be better than this.
Staring up into the night sky, I see a future that is amongst the stars. A future that is waiting for me and only me. I know it will not be easy, nothing of value is ever easy in this world. It is time for Alice to leave wonderland.

© 2012 Mary Gatlin


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This was well written and had my attention in most places, although there were some places I thought were a bit boring. Let me tell you though, you never, ever, start a sentence with and or but, alright? It's not correct in grammar. (Sorry, I'm a big grammar Nazi. I don't mean to offend you in any way.) I did like how this ended, though. It was more of a happier ending. I hate it when stories don't have happy endings...... I liked how it ended, though, with the sentence, "But it is time for Alice to leave Wonderland." Maybe take the "but" out so it is correct, but I really did like the story. :)

Posted 12 Years Ago


Excellently done.This story amazed me.good job.really i like it.keep it up.

Posted 12 Years Ago



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Added on June 12, 2012
Last Updated on July 19, 2012
Tags: crack, alice, wonderland, rehab