by Tillie Cole
Leaving the rope from my trunk by the hole, I went back to Dolly. I packed her lipstick and perfume into a bag. Packed her favorite book, what was left of the old doll she used to love so much, and her boombox and put them in my car. In minutes I was standing before her again. I lifted her in her chair, stepping over Mrs. Jenkins’s still-warm corpse and out of the door. I placed Dolly, still in her seat, by the hole and tied the rope around her waist. I guided the other end of the rope through the hole to the floor below, to exactly where I needed it to be. As I turned back to Dolly, I noticed her hand was clenched. It had been clenched the entire time. Looking into her downcast eyes, I reached forward and gently pulled her fingers from whatever they were clasping.
My breath slammed from my chest when I saw a familiar glint of metal. “Tick tock,” I whispered automatically as my old pocket watch came into view. I swallowed, fighting the lump in my throat as Dolly’s breathing changed from quiet to fast and loud. Her eyes were once again on me. I took the watch from her palm and, like I had always done, held it up to my ear and tapped the top. “We’re gonna be late, Dolly darlin’. We’re gonna be late.” Her head turned toward me, tilting slightly. “Follow me down the rabbit hole, Alice.”
I ran down the stairs to where the end of the rope dangled, and I took hold of it. Dolly’s chair balanced on the edge of the hole above. I stared at her, my living doll, sitting frozen . . . until she glanced down. And just for a second, the merest hint of time, I saw her behind her eyes. The girl who was my entire life.
Dolly.
I yanked gently on the rope, and her thin body fell forward, plummeting down the hole and into my arms. The wooden chair crashed to the floor, the legs snapping off. I winced when I held her to my chest. I breathed heavily through my nose at her nearness. My head urged to me to drop her. To push her away.
She was close. So close against me. Her head was tucked into my neck, and I felt her warm breath against my skin. Shivers ran down my spine, so strong that I had to hold back a hiss. I breathed through the discomfort her touch caused.
It’s Dolly, Rabbit. She isn’t a threat. She’s your world.
She weighed nothing in my arms. Her smell wrapped around me.
Roses.
Roses.
Roses.
Then she moved . . .
I held still as her head tipped back and I saw her face. My heart flipped in my chest when she blinked. Once, twice, three times, as though waking from a deep sleep. Her once pale cheeks were tinged with pink. Her lips were pouting in the way Dolly’s lips always pouted.
Her eyes raked around the room, exploring all around us and up to the hole through which she had just fallen. A low gasp left her throat, then she slowly turned her face to mine. I held my breath as her blue eyes—no longer dull, but bright—looked into mine.
She rubbed at her eyes, clearing the sleep from them. When her hand dropped, her mouth opened into a small “o”. She swallowed, never moving her gaze from mine, then she whispered dryly, “R-Rab . . . Rabbit?”
My eyes closed as the name left her mouth. Her voice, beneath the hoarseness, was just as sweet and soft as it had always been.
But gone was her Texas accent. In its place was her “tea party” accent. English. My Dolly had returned to me with a perfect English accent.
“Dolly darlin’.” My voice was low and cut and fucking breaking.
She stilled, and a wide smile pulled on her mouth, the pink lipstick shining on her cracked lips. “Rabbit,” she said again, her voice still raw. “My Rabbit. My silly Rabbit. Come back for me.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, the smile fell from her face just as quickly as she had tumbled down the hole.
“What is it, darlin’?” I asked, holding her closer. I wanted to push my hand through her hair. I wanted to kiss her head like I had done as a child. But . . . but I just . . . couldn’t. Holding her this close was already causing me too much fucking pain.
But it was pain I’d take, for her.
“I was trapped, Rabbit,” Dolly said, pulling my attention back to her. She had always commanded every part of me just by speaking, touching . . . breathing.
Tears built in her eyes, her long dark lashes fluttering to stem the drops from falling. It didn’t work. “I was locked in a room full of doors, Rabbit, and I couldn’t get out.” Her breathing hitched. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “There were so many doors, and the room was dark. I tried every knob, but none would open.” A pause. “Then the one that I had to leave through was too small and I was too big.” Her eyes opened and slammed into mine. “I was stuck, Rabbit. For so long.” Her bottom lip trembled, fucking eviscerating my heart and draining the blackness from my soul.
Light. She had always been the only light that ever got in.
“I was waiting for you, Rabbit. For so, so long.” She shivered, goosebumps covering her scarred skin. “It was so cold and dark in there . . . but I waited, just like you told me to, huddled in the corner of the room. It was cold and damp, and the noises from outside made me afraid, but I tried to stay strong. Strong for you.” She hiccupped. “Tick tock, Rabbit. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. So many tick-tocks until you came back for me. It made me sadder and sadder each day that you did not come.”
A single tear fell down her cheek. Shifting my hand, I caught the tear on my finger. Then just as I did as a child, I brought the drop to my mouth.
She still tasted the same.
Dolly’s eyes searched the room, and she stiffened in my arms, eyes widening as she drank in the same fucking house of hell she had never escaped. “We’re still here,” she said, utter dread lacing her tone. “We’re still in the room, Rabbit. There are so many doors. And I’m too tall.” Her chest rose and fell erratically.
Her book. Her favorite story. Alice was too tall to leave the room of doors. Dolly thought she was too. Too tall to leave this goddamn house.
If you find your Dolly repressed . . . lure her back to you with familiar but—most importantly—safe things. Things she loved, she adored, she liked. Things uniquely safe to her . . . things she recognized as belonging in her world . . .
Henry’s words repeated in my head. I placed Dolly down in front of me. She was too thin, but still so fucking beautiful. She took a frantic but small step back, never taking her attention from my face. Leaning toward me but never touching . . . as though she couldn’t bear to touch me either.
They’d done this to her.
To us.
Reaching into my vest pocket, I pulled out a small glass vial . . . identical to the one in her favorite book. The vial of blue liquid had a label on the front reading “Drink Me.” I’d tied a black ribbon to it to create a necklace.
“Rabbit? Is . . . is that what I think it is?” Her blue eyes widened, their striking color matching the liquid in the vial.
Sugar water, dyed blue.
“It’ll shrink you, darlin’. So you can follow me through the door and out into Wonderland . . . at last.” I resisted touching her hair. It looked like spun-gold silk. “We have an adventure to start, and I need to get you out of this room of doors.”
“Yes,” she said and laughed the laugh that had echoed in my mind for eleven years. A blinding smile pulled on her lips.
She reached for the vial.
“Just a sip. We may need it again on our adventure,” I said.
“Okay,” she whispered breathlessly and took the vial in her palm. Staring at the necklace like it was the most precious thing in the world, she gently removed the cork from the top and brought the mixture to her lips. She swallowed the tiniest amount, then reattached the cork and hung the ribbon around her neck.
Her arms suddenly spread wide, and a shocked inhale sounded around the stale, empty room. “It’s working, Rabbit!” She stared down at her feet. “I’m shrinking! Can you see? I’m really shrinking!”
I smiled at my girl and the fucking beautiful look on her face. I crossed my arms over my chest and let the sound of her laught
er fill my ears, my mind and my veins. “I see, darlin’. I always see you.”
A few seconds later, Dolly lifted her head, an excited gleam in her eyes. “The door!” She whipped her head in the direction of the main entrance. She ran, her long slim legs carrying her across the wooden floorboards. Her hand reached out and pulled on the knob. The door opened, and Dolly staggered back as the sunlight filtered into the dusty foyer. I stood back and watched as her hands flew to her mouth. I flinched as the bright light flooded in, but I ignored the pain it caused my eyes so I could watch her take her first steps over the threshold.
Then she turned and glanced down at my hand. She looked at the pocket watch in my palm, and she fucking smiled. I slowly stepped forward and stopped an inch behind her. I drank in her scent and raised my watch to my ear. Her cheeks flushed with excitement as she waited . . . and waited . . . and waited . . . then . . . I tapped the side of the watch. “We’re gonna be late, darlin’ . . .” My nose flared when her eyes widened to the size of the moon. “Tick tock.”
I brushed past her, rushing out of the door and down to my Mustang. I heard a high-pitched giggle of excitement from behind me and the sound of Dolly’s heels clicking on the stairs as she ran down each step. I threw the passenger door open for her to get inside, then took my seat in the driver’s side.
I put my sunglasses on and turned on the engine.
Hearing the passenger door close, I looked over to the girl sitting beside me. “You ready for Wonderland, darlin’?”
“Wonderland,” Dolly whispered in awe. “I don’t think I’ve ever been outside of these gates, have I, Rabbit? The final barrier before we enter Wonderland.”
“No.”
“And Wonderland definitely commences just beyond?”
“Wonderland and our adventure, darlin’. Our great adventure, the one we have been waiting all these years to start.”
Dolly pressed her delicate hands into her lap and took a long deep breath. “I’m ready.” She threw me a big smile, one that eleven years of hell couldn’t dim. “Ready for whatever Wonderland has in store for us.”
The blood pumped faster through my veins as her words trickled into my ears. As we pulled away from the house that had held so much darkness for us both, I thought of the journey ahead. Thought of the blood we would shed, the hearts we would stop and the lives we would steal. And all the time, a smile threatened to grace my lips when I thought of my Dolly beside me, slitting throats, slicing flesh—her tainted blood guiding our revenge.
Dolly killing, a laugh pouring from her pink lips and crimson blood coating her fragile hands . . .
. . . I could imagine nothing more beautiful in this or any other world.
Chapter 6
Ellis
Dolly
Squinting against the bright sun, I tipped my head back and stared at the sky. It was so blue. So bold—I had never before seen colors so vivid. In the room of doors, I inhabited a world of shade. Spindling shadows danced menacingly on the walls, their tentacles straining to reach me in my corner, where I crouched in trepidation of them touching me. If they reached me, I instinctively knew everything was lost. Rabbit would never, ever find me. So I would block them out, close my eyes and live in the dark.
Night. Eternal night.
Down the rabbit hole, there was so much light. So much color, as if a rainbow had bathed the world in its beautiful rays. I ran my hands down my dress. My blue dress, so striking and pretty.
The prettiest dress you ever did see.
Tipping my head back again, I watched the fat, fluffy white clouds as they drifted across the sky, and let excitement fill my heart.
It was beating so fast.
I lowered my head and looked out of the window at the long driveway. The car’s tires crunched the road beneath us.
Then I glanced across at Rabbit.
My breath was trapped in my throat. He stared straight ahead at the road, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the car door. The roof was down, and the wind blew over us like a comforter of feathers. Unlike the rest of the world, Rabbit wasn’t bathed in color. He was clothed in darkness . . . save for his eyes.
Silver orbs . . . just like the moon.
He wore a strange thimble on the index finger of his left hand. It was gold and gleamed in the light. Curiously, it wasn’t blunt like a traditional thimble, but sharpened, like a talon. I had no idea why he wore it.
Rabbit turned his head, and those silver eyes landed on me. “You good, darlin’?” I shivered at the sound of his voice. It was deeper than I remembered. Rougher and lower.
I felt my cheeks blaze red. He raised an eyebrow. “You sound different,” I said. “Your voice is deeper.” My gaze fell on his body. He was bigger too, taller and wider. His clothes were similar, but his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the skin below was marked with drawings. Black and gray clocks. Clocks and watches of all kinds covered every inch of his skin—on his arms and all the way up to the top of his neck. On his cheek, just next to his left eye, was a single black drawing.
A spade, from a deck of cards.
“You look different.” I tapped my head. “In here, I remember you differently.” I smiled when I looked up at his hair. “But your hair is still the same . . . and your eyes. I could never forget those eyes.” I smiled and whispered, “My Rabbit.” I wasn’t sure if he heard or if the wind had carried my whisper away to the sky.
He didn’t say anything for a while, then ventured, “You look the same too. But different. Grown.” He raked his teeth over his bottom lip, and his nose flared. “Like a living doll.” His lip twitched. His hand tightened on the wheel. “My little Dolly, all grown up.” Rabbit’s voice was raspier than just a minute before, for some reason. Confused, I was about to ask him why when he stopped the car and took a deep breath. “Look ahead, darlin’.” He pointed through the windshield.
I followed his hand and looked straight ahead. My heart fired into a sprint. We had stopped at the gates. They were broken and open, and my eyes could not help but focus on the road beyond.
“Wonderland,” I whispered.
“You ready?”
I dropped my head and played with my fingers on my lap. “I . . . I have never been out of these gates before, Rabbit. I’ve never been to Wonderland.”
“I have,” he said. I lifted my eyes to meet his. He was staring through the windshield. He turned slowly to face me. “It’s different, and it will be scary to you at times, but I’m here to lead you, Dolly.” He lifted his pocket watch to beside his face. “This is my job, remember? I’m here to guide you on the adventure.” He put his watch back in his pocket. “Do you trust me?”
I stared into those silver eyes and immediately knew the answer. Smiling, I shook my head and laughed. “Silly Rabbit. Of course I do.”
“Then we go,” Rabbit said. “We have places to go and people to meet. We have to fulfill our destiny.”
I sucked in a deep breath and sat back in my seat. “I’m ready, Rabbit.” I reached up and clutched the vial around my neck. “I’m ready to see this new world.”
Rabbit drove the car forward, and I gasped as we flew past the broken gates. I glanced behind us at the house where I had been trapped. I frowned as I remembered my friend who used to live beyond the room of doors. I would speak to her sometimes. She was on the other side of one particular door, but it wasn’t a good door. It wasn’t the one that led to a nice part of Wonderland. It was a bad door, one where she got hurt. I didn’t want to ever end up in that part of Wonderland.
I hoped she was okay. I hoped that she would one day get out and away from the people who had hurt her.
“You good, darlin’?” Rabbit inquired. I turned my head to face forward and felt the wind slap at my cheeks. When I lifted my hand, I realized my cheeks were wet with tears.
“Dolly?” Rabbit pulled the car to a sudden stop. I looked around. There were bright green fields all around us. They were so pretty. “Why’re you crying?
” Rabbit asked. I faced him and saw his jaw clenching.
“I . . .” I sniffed and wiped another tear from my face. “I had a friend in that house, Rabbit. One who I just realized I will never speak to again. If I leave . . . she will be all alone.”
“A friend?” Rabbit asked. His eyes seemed to darken. “Eddie?” he said through gritted teeth. “Eddie fucking Smith? Is that your friend?”
“Eddie?” I asked in confusion. “I don’t know an Eddie.”
“You don’t?” Rabbit sat back in his seat, and his dark eyebrows pulled down. “You don’t know an Eddie?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Should I?”
He paused. Then, “No . . . it doesn’t matter.” He looked away. When he faced me again, he said, “Then who?” He still seemed tense, and a bit confused.
My heart dropped in sadness. “Her name was Ellis.”
Rabbit froze. His skin seemed to drain to white. “Ellis?” he said, half whispering.
I nodded, fighting back tears when I thought of her soft frightened voice. “She . . . she was trapped behind one of the doors. She spoke to me sometimes.” My lip trembled. “She didn’t have a nice life, Rabbit. There were some men in her home that . . . hurt her. They hurt her so much.” Rabbit made a noise in his throat, as if he was in pain too. “She was so lonely. She would cry a lot.” I sniffed. “I tried to make her feel better by talking to her, but nothing worked. Then one day she stopped coming to the door. I . . . I don’t know what happened to her. I never heard from her again.” I blinked away my tears and looked at Rabbit. His face looked stricken. I knew he was sad for my friend too. “Do you think Ellis is okay?” I whispered, my voice getting trapped in my throat. “I don’t want to leave her there alone, if she’s still there, behind the door. Alone, afraid, scared of the men that come for her every night.”
