I see Alice falling and spinning down the black hole, looking and trying to grab at all the strange and wonderfulthings flying up and out of her reach. She followed the White Rabbit; she answered his fluffy beckoning paw. Did she know that he was leading her to aworld that was completely out of her comprehension? Out of her element? Margaret would have had a logical piece of advice that would, in normal circumstances for a normal girl, had made perfect sense. Alice was different, though. She wasn't struggling with the outward, tangible aspects of the world. Her fight was internal, spiritual, mental. Fighting flesh and blood is scary enough, but to come against your own mind is a different world entirely.

Like Alice, I feel as if I've been led down black hole–I can't blame anyone else. It was my own decision, my own two feet that brought me to where I am now. Puffs of cloud appear and then dissapate, the dreams of what I could have latched onto slipping from my fingers as I fall helplessly down the rabbit hole. Realizing what I've done, I frantically snatch at whatever lingering cloud is nearest to my fingertips beforeI loose them alland watch as the tiny thing slowly evaporates, leaving my hands empty except forthe moist tickle of a memory; something that could have been, but never was. Odd objects, tables, chairs, teasets, a broken drum stick, batter me as I fall, striking my sore body until I am too exhausted to fight back.

Landing, hitting hard earth, I look up tosee the words scribbled above my headin neon fire: Too Late.

Ghostly figures of family, friends, people who I passed by on the street and never reallymatteredall appear like flickering shadows outside a flame. Each one pointing an accusing finger.

I don't need them to tell me what they're trying to say. I know the mistake I made.

I followed the White Rabbit.