The Wonderland Trials

How is the world inside your mind any less real than the one outside it?

But it is when we are not ourselves that believing in the impossible - in the unseen - becomes most vital. We must believe in something beyond you or I.

Well,' she said, 'people do grow out of fairy tales. But they grow back into them just as often as not.

Watch it,” he says, now a decimetre away. “Or you might lose your temper. Seems you’ve almost found it. And wouldn’t it be a pity to lose something you’ve only just discovered?” “You are impossible.” Why am I still standing here? “I think you mean impassible,” he says, blocking my way. “Nothing’s impossible. Including, but not limited to, you. Least of all you, in fact. You are anything but impossible. You are perhaps the most possible girl I have ever had the privilege to encounter.

And, you discovered that by simply believing in the impossible and dreaming what you wanted this world to be, it could bloom beyond anything we ever imagined.

Wonderland is what we imagine it to be, he says. You can become anything. Go anywhere. That's the magic of the Gene.

The song transitions, and so does her sway. It’s an older tune. An electronic mix between rock and pop. Not approved listening aboveground. The band sings of immortality. Of the inability to live without another. It’s about tested faith. About past and future and living forever and losing time. It’s a love song. A fantasy. What would that be like? To rely so much on someone else?

So,” Knave says, when I’m done, “you’re asking us to follow you? Even though we have no idea what we’re really facing? Even if we could die or never return or who knows what else?” “No,” I say, offering him a small smile. Hoping that will be enough. “I am asking you to believe in what’s real. And to go after it. To step off the obvious path.

What do I do?” She meows. As usual, she’s no help at all. “Chess,” I whisper, somehow knowing he’s still present. “Please. Help me.” His voice reaches out from some corner of the room. “Do what you have always done.” “Which is?” “See what’s right in front of your nose, of course. Nothing’s impossible, after all.

What if my subconscious is more than a fantasy? What if that which appears to be a mere dream is a whole new world? And what if whatever is on the other side of that door is waiting for me to find it?

Leave it to Charlotte and her unrelenting soft spot for anything with fur to treat a cat better than she does her own sister.

I deserve a cappuccino for my patience alone.