Alice’s Wonderland Syndrome
"Is it just me, or is the sun swallowing up the sky?" A little girl with blonde hair and looking-glass eyes squinted against the searing light that only she seemed affected by. "It's gotten quite large. I can't even see the floating sheep above us anymore."
Her mother, with a wide-brimmed hat obscuring her cat-like eyes, sighed. "It is just you, Alice. We must find you a new shrink, dear... one that doesn't smoke a pipe indoors or rush around with a broken wristwatch. A normal one to make you normal."
"But I liked both Dr. Caterpillar and Dr. Hare, Cheshire-mum." Alice whined.
"Why must you call everyone an animal?" Her mother asked her for what felt like the umpteenth time.
"Because you all look like some, even ones I make up. Like Jabberwork-father and Brownie-brother!"
She's as mad as a hatter. They walked into the office's waiting room.
"This room's very small." The girl struggled move any further, her guardian having to push her through the door and make her sit down.
"Alice, please just stay here and-" her mother glanced down to the table before them. "Have some of those biscuits and juice. They won't take long, I hope..."
The girl followed her eyes to the tray with snacks on napkins and cups, a label reading "take one of each" in front of it. She picked up the juice and sipped, kicking her legs about.
Her eyes widened as she suddenly looked around wildly. "Oh, the room is normal now. I shrinked, mother!"
"Uh-huh." Alice's mum was reading a magazine, trying to ignore the concerned looks her daughter was getting from the receptionist. "That's wonderful, sweetie."
The girl only got louder when she bit into one of the biscuits. "I'm big again! Is the room changing, or am I changing?"
Neither, the mother thought, flipping a page. I've raised a crazy.
"Carroll, Alice," the receptionist, who was seen as a butterfly in the girl's eyes, called out.
The mother grabbed her hand and led her to an office. As soon as they entered this next red-themed room, Mrs. Caroll heard a splash and thud next to her. Alice had dropped her snacks on the carpeted floor.
"Pardon her," she began as her daughter hollered, "Evil Queen of Hearts!"
"Let's see: visual and sensory hallucinations involving micro, macro, pelo, and teleopsia, frequent migraines, insomnia, loss of sense of time, paranoia outbursts of emotion when distortions are denied..." Their newest psychiatrist was already taking detailed notes of Alice's condition as she stab her with a pen from her desk.
"I know exactly what your daughter has, and it shares her name too." The 'Queen', Dr. Ducksworth, swiftly took the pen from the girl's hand and lightly pushed her into a seat across from her desk. "It is known as Alice in Wonderland Syndrome, a neurological condition that usually occurs in children and can disappear in adolescence."
"Are her made-up names for everyone- including you, I'm sorry- also a symptom?" Her mother had done a little research on the Syndrome, but hadn't connected the dots to her daughter so quickly.
"Oh, dear no." The doctor smiled. "That is simple childhood imagination, not any other kind of illness. However, this AiW Syndrome most likely makes her daydreams all the more vivid, even more so towards loved ones in her life."
Mrs. Caroll had to continue to restrain Alice from "beheading the Evil Queen" as she asked, "And what is the treatment?"
"In the common childhood case your daughter has, we can wait and watch it go away own," The psychiatrist answered. "However, if the Syndrome is getting in the way of her development, I can perscribe certain medications or even hyp-"
"NO!" Alice was at full volume again. "The Queen is trying to poison me, Cheshire-mum!"
Her mother leaned forward in her seat, speaking quietly now. "I'd like to look at the alternatives to waiting, Dr. Duckworth."
The doctor nodded in response.
As they continued their conversation just out of Alice earshot, she stared off and kept mumbling to herself, "Is it just me, or are the clouds now farther away than the sun? Is it just me, or do the trees look smaller? Is it just me..."
This Sword is Made for Slaying
“Is it just me, or did that police officer look a bit like a pig?” Alex whispered.
Sydney elbowed him. How could he be so disgustingly calm about this?
“Ow! What was that for?”
She glared at him and hissed, “Will you shut up!”
He rolled his eyes. “What are they gonna do, arrest us? Oh, wait, they already have!”
“I don’t know you,” she said, crossing her arms and fixating on a dust bunny in the corner of the interrogation room. The muscles in her legs itched, but she refused to fidget. She was a professional.
Alex poked her shoulder. She punched his. The door swung open with a nasty creak and a woman with steel grey hair and steely eyes to match strode in.
“I’m Detective Andrews,” she said, setting a file on the metal table. “Would you care to explain what you were doing at the abandoned fairgrounds?”
Alex opened his mouth to reply. Sydney stomped on his foot. He winced and glared at her.
Detective Andrews cleared her throat. “Why were you at the fairgrounds?” she repeated.
Sydney uncrossed her arms and rested them on the table. “We’re paranormal detectives,” she said, her voice blessedly steady.
Detective Andrews raised an elegantly plucked eyebrow. “Really.”
“Yup! Professional investigators of everything that goes bump in the night. Our specialty is spirits, but we’ll take a look at anything weird,” Alex chimed in, twisting to avoid Sydney’s elbow.
The detective sighed.
Sydney grimaced. “Please ignore him. He was dropped on his head a lot as a child. What he means is, we look into situations that seem to defy a natural explanation.” She reached into her pocket. “Here’s our business card. We’re licensed and everything.”
Detective Andrews inspected the business card. “I see,” she said. “So what were you investigating?”
“The abandoned fairgrounds.”
“Why?”
Sydney took a deep breath and interlaced her fingers. “They've been abandoned since that girl was murdered, obviously. But people still pass them, walking through the woods. And teenagers party in the woods. We heard that they might not be quite as abandoned as they should be. Considering how the girl died, and those unexplained disappearances you’ve had, we thought it might be worth checking out.”
Detective Andrews scribbled someting into her notebook. “And what did you find?”
Sydney smiled wryly. “Well, detective, we found a dead body.”
Detective Andrews glanced up, unamused. “Did you see anything else? Anyone else?”
Looking down at the table, Sydney shook her head. Detective Andrews reminded her of her third grade teacher. It wasn’t her favorite memory.
“So you found the body. Then what?” Detective Andrews prompted.
“Then we called the police,” Sydney said. “And then we waited. And then a pair of lovely policemen showed up and escorted us here.”
“You don’t we did it, do you?” Alex was smirking, the bastard. Sydney wished she could punch the smirk off his stupid face.
Detective Andrews regarded him thoughtfully. Sydney tried not to squirm. Alex’s smirk grew.
“No, I don’t,” Detective Andrews finally said. “You don’t have enough blood on your clothes, the murder weapon wasn’t on the scene, and you don’t seem to have any motive.”
Sydney couldn’t help a small sigh of relief. “So we can go?”
Detective Andrews nodded. “Stay in town for now, though. We might need to ask you some more questions.”
“Sure thing, detective!” They needed get out of here before sundown.
Detective Andrews held open the door. “Let us know if you remember anything else.”
Sydney smiled stiffly. “Yes, ma’am. Will do.” She grabbed Alex by the arm and yanked him up before he could say anything stupid.
“Goodbye, Detective Andrews! It was nice meeting you,” he called out as she dragged him through the door.
“You know that your whole punching and dragging routine just made us look more suspicious, right?” Alex said as they walked back to their car.
Sydney huffed. “Sorry that not all of us are hardened criminals.”
Alex had the nerve to laugh. “I just find it hilarious that you’ve got no problem facing a pack of werewolves, but one little detective has quaking in your boots.”
“She wasn’t that little! And I wasn’t scared of her, I just don’t wanna end up in a small town jail. Especially when there’s a rabid vampire on the loose.”
Alex raised his eyebrows.
“Shut up,” Sydney said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, but you were thinking,” she grumbled.
Alex grinned.
Sydney marched to the driver’s side of the car. Alex chuckled behind her.
They drove back to the campground in silence. Sydney glared resolutely at the road ahead, but she could feel Alex smirking.
The sun crowned the horizon as the RV's wheels crunched wetly over the gravel. A few enterprising droplets littered the windshield, promising a wet night.
Sydney groaned. "Perfect. Not only do we have to hunt a vampire on almost no sleep, but we've got to do it in the rain."
"Ah, cheer up. It'll be fun. You know how much you love stabbing things!" Alex said.
She rolled her eyes. "Do you ever think we should just quit? Settle down on different sides of the country, live normal lives, and never see each other again?"
He grinned. "You know you'd miss me. Besides, you'd be bored in a week. Admit, you need this. And you need me."
"I would not! Also, do you have to smile all the time? It's annoying."
His grin widened. "Someone has to balance out your grumpiness."
She crossed her arms. "I'm not grumpy!"
His face twitched as he forced his features into a serious expression. "Of course not."
She punched him, but smiled a little in spite of herself. "C'mon, it's nap time. We've got," she checked her watch, "a little over an hour before we've gotta suit up."
They crouched behind a tree at the edge of the clearing. The rusted carousel creaked eerily in the wind. Sydney's legs were beginning to cramp up from the cold. The relentless drizzle shrouded the half-collapsed tents in grey and made the lurid yellow crime scene tape glisten.
"I wonder what how long they'll look for the killer," she whispered.
Alex kept his gaze on the tents and tightened his grip on his dagger. "A while, I'd think. It's not like much else happens in this town. It's too bad for the carnies, though."
"And for all the dead people!"
"Well, yeah, them too."
A pale figure darted between the tents.
"It's here!" Sydney hissed into Alex's ear. He nodded and stepped in front of the tree.
Sydney slunk off behind a neighboring tree and flashed Alex a thumbs up. He returned it, then pricked his finger lightly on the dagger.
Something rustled behind the nearest tent, and the vampire leapt out claws first. Alex swept his leg up towards its ribs. It dodged easily, landing right beside Sydney's tree. She slid her sword between its ribs in a practiced motion. It looked down at the glinting metal hilt protruding from its chest. Sydney twisted, and it collapsed with a deflated wail.
"Feel better now?" Alex asked.
"Maybe," she replied. "I'll really feel better when we've been paid."
The cash came two nights later, delivered by a nervous teenager in a hoodie. They barely stayed long enough to count it. The town faded quietly into the darkness as they sped away, headlights glinting on the wet pavement. By the time the sun's rays summited the mountains, it was just a distant memory.
Broken
Is it just me
who steps outside in the darkness
when the world is quiet,
to feel stones hiding amid the dewy grass
cut deep
into the arches of your feet
because the pain reminds you that you are here,
in this moment.
In this fleeting half-second
the daydreams filling your mind,
a shield between you and a world that only knows hate
are ripped away.
you look up and watch the stars blur as tears rise to your eyes.
And there, away from prying eyes,
you reign over a world gone silent.
raw.
broken.
... beautiful.
Just a call
Ten inbox messages
Ten unread inbox messages
Is it just me or the phone seems heavier nowadays?
My fingers too numb?
The call button too far away?
Ten inbox messages
For me?
I’m surprised they responded
Though we do share a past
A past of smiles and arguments and notes passed in class
I... am surprised they responded
Because the past is... in the past
Ten inbox messages
A constant vague pressure in my head
It wouldn’t even take five minutes
Just five minutes to reply or probably make a call...
Five minutes to tell them I miss them and I still cherish the times we spent together
...Five endless minutes
Ten inbox messages
Still waiting
Unread
I want to reply
Because I do miss them
Value them
But, not yet-
Not now.
For now...it is just me
Just me and the phone which seems too heavy...
Is it just me
(Hello again Milo)
"Is it just me, or is that a baseball?" Milo asks. He says, after standing up too fast.
"Negatory, Ghost Rider. It's just you,"Angela Chuckles.
He looks back at her, and smiles. "Cool." He shoulders his backpack, and waves. "Bye, Momma." He says, and then is knocked out by a baseball.
-A short poem-
Is it just me?
what’s wrong with me?
I have no strength left
my life is like a cleft!
Is it just me?
what’s wrong with me?
why the world is so insecure?
or am I wrong? Sure?
Is it just me?
what’s wrong with me?
why don't i get lucky
my life is a prison, block!
Is it just me?
what’s wrong with me?
is my life broken?
is happiness closed?
- O P E N -
Is it just me?
Yeah...It's me!
#Sherzod
IMHO...
Superiority!
Is it just me
or is it everyone else?
Am I the best of the best?
Is it just me,
I can't really tell,
or am I just strangely obsessed?
It's awfully strange
but awfully there.
Perhaps everyone here is inferior.
Yet, I can't fight this feeling,
this ominous air,
that makes me feel oh-so superior.
What am I thinking?!
What is the matter?!
Please, ignore me. I'm sorry.
It's not as if
all of you are subservient.
Now, that would be a worry.
Unless you are. Oh my!
You're all far lesser!
I did not think that it could be!
You are as lowly
as I am amazing!
I guess it wasn't just me.
Oh sweetie, you have a disorder
Is it just me who can’t sit still
Starring at the screen
Million of ideas
Scattering like dropped marbles
Tapping my foot
Distracted every 10 seconds
Can’t sit in traffic
Clicking my pen
Blurting out in conversations before I lose my idea
In my own world
Can’t sit through a movie
Couldn’t focus on what you said
I forgot my coffee at home
You’re talking so slow
How can people sit for so long
That’s it, I need to get up
You guessed it
I have ADHD.