“So, are you sure?” Old man with unhealthy greenish pale skin and with tall black hat slowly turned to the girl. “You are so young, so pure, so innocent!” his chapped lips smacked every word, “You sure this is the only option, little fifteen?”

“I have no choice. This… or The Shard (rem. of the author - The Shard is the tallest building in London, 306 m.)” sharply said the girl, surveying the room. It felt sinister, with rotting dry walls and cracked concrete with red stains of an unknown origin. The room was empty, except for two black and white armchairs with a hypnotizing pattern. Her body unwillingly jerked when she caught the sight of two guards that had led her here. They stood near the door like toy soldiers - blank faces, same clothes. Only they were fatter than the toy soldiers.

“That’s the right thing… Relax, and have the most wonderful meal of your life!” The old man grinned, revealing his yellow, decaying teeth, and handed her a greasy piece of cake with some mold growing on it and stinky spoiled juice in a cracked glass. The girl sighed and stared with disgust on the food but begun eating it. She closed her eyes and held her breath as not to smell anything and quickly wolfed down the cake, following it up with the juice, which she drank in one gulp. The old man leaned towards her, resting his arms on his knees.

“Do you feel it yet?,” quickly and enthusiastically whispered he, “The madness, the magnificence of being insane! My, it took me a lot of time to find all the drugs needed to prepare this! Believe, my child, it won’t be long until you realize that this is everything you had ever wanted. The bliss of craziness… Join me in my game, Alice!”

A man in the cat mask entered the room, carrying an old radio with him. It played high-pitched psychedelic music. She tried to block her ears, but she couldn’t move her arms. The girl’s pale skin was slowly turning to red and her terrified wide open eyes were filling up with blood. Her breathing became harsh and frequent and veins on her neck were pulsing. One of the guards came closer to the girl and with one quick movement of the knife, her gorgeous shiny black locks fell on the floor.

“Your mother will never hit you again, your boyfriend will never dump you, your friend will never betray you…” continued the man grabbing the girl’s shoulder and shaking her violently. Her mouth filled with foam. Finally, her head and body went limp. After a minute, her eyes opened wide.

She found herself in the beautiful garden with marvelous flowers and grass, sitting on the throne in a fantastic dress with golden locks lying on her shoulders. The air smelled of strawberries and tea. Opposite her there sat a gentleman in a tall black hat and a fine costume, behind him there was an enormous cat and jazz was playing in the background. Mad Hatter took her tiny hands and solemnly proclaimed, “Welcome to the Wonderland, Alice!”

The fragile body of the girl was jerking from cries. It’s over. Everything is over. These miserable people had ruined everything. Her world was crashed in small pieces; her true self which she was forced to reveal was thrown stones at and pierced by those painful words, stabbed by this gigantic amount of critic. How could they do this to her? All these people, didn’t they felt wrong while they were doing this? Didn’t they felt guilty?

She had realized that it was her fault; she knew that she should had put the notebook away, knew that she shouldn’t had left it on her desk in the classroom, while she went to the canteen. But, it doesn’t make their fault less, they shouldn’t have touched it. She remembered returning to the classroom and seeing The Big Bad Guy reading it, laughing at it, showing it to The Nasty Boys.

Who was she to argue? She was just a mouse-type girl with huge black glasses, which contrasted with her pale skin and dark brown hair. The Shy Girl. The Shy Girl should never stand up against The Big Bad Guy and The Nasty Boys. She should obey. And she knew it, knew it very well. But deep inside she was a rebel.

She grasped the notebook from their hands, kicked one of The Nasty Boys, slapped the other one and then she leaped like a wild cat on The Big Bad Guy, making him collapse on the floor. She brought her face close to his and uttered, “I can let you shatter my confidence, but I will never let you shatter my dreams.” Then she gave him such a wild look that he thought that The Shy Girl had become The Brave One. But The Big Bad Guy was so despicable that he couldn’t miss a chance on bringing her down back to The Shy Girl position, so he grinned at her. She didn’t understand his smile; she was scared. The Big Bad Guy shook her off his body like she was a dust, annoying dust that keeps sticking to you even if you don’t want it to stick. He got back on his feet and bellowed, “Listen to me. You are nobody, all your stupid poems are just a parody. I am the boss here.” And they laughed.

The Shy Girl stared in disbelief at her classmates, the ones who she counted as friends. She gazed at their laughing faces, and then, The Shy Girl became The Clown.

She couldn’t take it anymore, so she clutched her bag, snathed the notebook and rushed off. She was hurt, but she knew that her revenge is going to be sweet. Standing there, in the corridor of her school, her mascara running, her bag dirty from kicks it had received she got her plan.

It took her three days to write her favorite poem on the wall of The Big Bad Boy’s house with his own blood.