Young Writers Society

Walter sat down at the table with his lips pressed tightly together. In his pocket was poison. The poison he was supposed to use to kill this strange man. It wouldn’t be an easy feat- and honestly, Walter didn’t feel comfortable with it- any of it. But it had to be done, or else he would die that night.

“So,” Walter began, fiddling with his thumbs, “why are you trapped in this prison? You don’t have any magic, do you?”

“Not conventional magic, like the others.” He pulled out a few cards from his pocket and motioned for Walter to pick one. Walter grabbed a card- which turned out to be the card of the Hatter. “But I do know some sleight of hand.”

“I didn’t even bring that card,” Walter grumbled, shoving the card into his pocket. The mouse slid down his arm and onto the table.

“I did!” she announced. “I thought you could use it.”

“Smart mouse,” the man chuckled. “What is your name?”

“Dormouse,” the mouse said. “But you may call me Doris.”

“Alright, we’ve all had our introductions,” Walter said. “I want to know why you are in this prison.” Walter didn’t feel right about killing this man unless he had a reason to, and even then, that didn’t feel good enough.

“Right,” Alastair said. “But first, let me prepare us some tea. We might want something to drink during such a dark topic.” Alastair leaned under the table and pulled out a few bricks from the floor, revealing a secret stash of water and tea pouches. He pulled out the bucket of water and a few tea pouches and began making tea in his teapot.

Walter hadn’t noticed it before, but this man was handsome, despite all of his other strange qualities. He had pale brown hair that reminded Walter of a dove, and pink cheeks dotted with freckles. He even had the same, sparkling eyes as Walter that seemed to have too much wisdom.

“For you, Walter.” Alastair slid a cold cup of tea over to Walter. “Orange tea, sprinkled with cinnamon.”

“My favorite,” Walter said. He took a sip of the cold tea and his body relaxed a little bit. “How did you know?”

“I know more about you than you know about yourself.” Alastair poured another cup of tea for Doris, which she jumped into with a splash.

“It’s a very gruesome tale,” Alastair began. “One of heartbreak and tragedy.”

“Do tell!” Doris squeaked. Alastair chuckled, but Walter knew he found no humor in this.

“I was a hatmaker. The royal hatmaker, in fact. It was a lovely job, and I met all sorts of important people. I owned a mansion right next to the castle, and my door was lined with nobles every day who wanted one of my hats. Everything was stripped from me.”

“What happened?” Doris asked.

“The Queen had fallen in love… With me.” Alastair held his fist up in the air, but his arm seemed to shrink when Doris started to laugh hysterically.

“You? The Queen loved you?”

“Impossible, I know.” Alastair’s voice was dry and tired. His hand slid back down to grab his tea and take a sip of it. “I’m glad you find such humor out of it.”

“Manners, Doris,” Walter said, clicking his tongue. The mouse leaned back into her teacup and huffed.

“After that,” Alastair continued, “she decided to keep me prisoner until I fall in love with her.”

“That’s horrible!” Doris said. “Why don’t you try to escape?”

“Would I rather her hurt my family?” Alastair yelled. “If I had tried to escape she would have taken everything from my family! Their freedom, their love…” He looked up at Walter, seeming to hold his breath. “But perhaps it doesn’t matter. The Queen never keeps her word.”

“That’s a lie!” Walter said, astonished. “She always keeps her word for me. And if she doesn’t, it’s always been for the greater good.”

“You’ve always lived in luxury, Walter,” Doris said. “How do you know that it’s for the greater good?”

“I-”

Walter couldn’t defend himself. He had lived in the Castle of Hearts all his life and had never ventured outside to see what Wonderland truly was. But he never wanted to. The rest of the world was dark and dangerous and cruel- worst of all, it seemed to hate the Queen. The Queen! The only one who had ever loved him- the only one who had ever kept him safe, had never asked for something from him except his loyalty. It nearly made his skin crawl to know how lowly she was thought of.

“Look,” Walter said slowly, “I would love to believe you- but my loyalty is to the Queen. I can’t believe a prisoner’s word over hers.”

“Fine, then.” Alastair leaned back in his chair. “If that’s true, why don’t you kill me now?” He snapped his hand and the bottle of poison appeared in his palm.

“How did you get that?” Walter hissed.

“Sleight of hand. But it doesn’t matter- Bill has snuck a variety of antidotes in here after she attempted to poison me. I’m sure one of them is the cure for this. Shall I down it now?” He popped the cork off and held it to his mouth.

“No! No,” Walter said. He snatched the bottle and put the cork back in. “Just… Well… I don’t know.”

“So your loyalty isn’t to the Queen,” Alastair said. “You are a man that picks and chooses his battles. That is a dangerous game.”

“I play no games!” Walter yelled. “I do what the Queen asks me! Now, drink the blasted poison!”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m…I’m…” Walter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Walter,” Doris said. Her voice was soft and comforting. “You know what will happen if you don’t do this. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

“She won’t truly kill me,” Walter whispered. “But what am I supposed to do?”

“Find out the truth,” Alastair growled. “Before Cordelia kills you.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Walter asked. He didn’t want to defy her, but killing a man seemed much worse.

“Here.” Alastair shuffled through his stash until he pulled out a bottle of a glittering blue liquid. On it was a label that said ‘Drink me’. “Add this to your tea. It will help you go unnoticed.”

“What is it?”

“Just a little potion from my past tea parties. It won’t hurt you.”

Walter unscrewed the lid and added a few drops to his tea. He immediately began to chug all of his tea down. His stomach churned and his skin itched as everything seemed to grow bigger- or he grew smaller.

“Now go!” Alastair said, picking up Walter and setting him by the bars, “before the Queen comes.”

“Should I say thank you?” Walter asked.

“Say whatever your heart thinks of this.”

But Walter felt nothing but pain for this man- if what he said was true.

Doris hopped off the table and stood behind Walter, at least three tiny men taller than him. She nodded to her back, and he climbed on, grunting as he tried to avoid grabbing her whiskers. They ran through the bars and the prison, careful to avoid all of the fires and powders at their sides.