||"Not The Alice You've Heard About" Bio||
"You can't open the book of my life and jump in the middle," so I might as well start at the beginning. My name is Alice Jane Liddell: Alice, because it's what my mother wanted to name me as long as I wasn't a boy; Jane, after my mother, who died bringing me into the world; and Liddell after my father who blamed me for the death of his beloved wife. I was born on October 27th, 1880, the day my mother died, and the day my father's heart shattered. I grew up shut out of my father's life. He refused to see me, save for Sunday dinner, when he was forced to be around me. With nothing to do, no friends to be with, I started having tea parties with my stuffed rabbit and dolls. That was when the White Rabbit found me and lured me down his rabbit hole. I was eight years old. I had my fun my first time going to the place called Wonderland, meeting Chess, the Tweedles, the March Hare, the Mad Hatter, the Caterpillar, and Heather Heart, the Queen of Hearts. Quite a wonderful place, truth be told. My father's friend, Lewis Carroll, captivated by the idea of such a place, turned most of my adventure into a book. However, upon returning home, my father, and my father's other friend, Dr. Lydgate were not so enthralled with my tales as Mr. Carroll was. Only after a month after my return did my father go back to ignoring me and shutting me out of his life again. I tried being a good girl, I really did. I studied like a good girl. I learned needlepoint like a good girl. I learned to play the piano like my mother used to, but nothing I did got him to open his door. After a year, I grew restless. I never talked to anyone outside of the house staff, I never left my father's estate, and as much as I tried to fight it, my curiosity got the better of me. I went back to search for that rabbit hole. And I found it. Out of excitement, and eagerness to return to my beloved Wonderland, I left England without a second thought, and I didn't return until I was almost sixteen. However, my trip to Wonderland was not as pleasant this time. Hatter was gone, and Heather Heart had been replaced by an evil woman who poisoned Wonderland's free-spirited joviality with hostile tyranny. This was the Wonderland I grew up in. I had to learn how to survive. Fighting, thieving, manipulating, sneaking, and escaping became my most acute skills. I depended on them, needed them. I made it a point to make sure that Cora knew I didn't think of her as Queen, and I didn't treat her as such. I made sure that I was as annoying and bothersome to her as possible. Stealing her undergarments and flying them from the flagpoles, painting giant red roses on the white castle walls, and setting fire to the garden maze became my form of protest against her bloodthirsty cruelty. But like all good things, it ended. She got her revenge. And now I carry a white, heart-shaped scar over my heart from her own personal branding iron. Seeking refuge from from the hostility of Wonderland, I returned to my father's house. To England. But this time, he tried to hide me from the world. He refused let me out of my room. Giving me only four walls, a set of the most boring books known to man, the piano, and a tea set as my only companions. I lived like that until I was seventeen. Even though I lived in isolation, I could hear the maids through the walls talking about how my father was making arrangements with Dr. Lydgate to have me moved to the Asylum he ran, because, well, in his eyes I was insane. Wonderland wasn't real, and I needed to be fixed. So I ran. I needed to escape. It too a month of work, but the night after my seventeenth birthday, I managed to remove the window, allowing me to escape in the dead of night. And where do you think I went? I went to the one place that I could find evidence to prove my sanity. To prove that I wasn't crazy. Wonderland. That's right. Again, power had changed hands there. Now under the rule of a blonde, ducklipped Queen named Anastasia, Wonderland had seemingly become less hostile. The flowers still didn't sing as loud, but they dared to do more than hum. I suppose it was as good as I was going to get. That was when I met my best friend, Will Scarlett, the Knave of Hearts. For months I hid in Wonderland, stealing what I needed, killing Cards as necessary. I hated doing it, but I had no other options. It wasn't till I had been there an entire year that I finaly realized that I had made no progress in trying to prove myself. I decided that I needed to take the one person in Wonderland who had been with me from the beginning. I needed the White Rabbit. So I broke into the Queen's castle and ran off with the Rabbit in a bag, her Cards trailing close behind me in the maze. Then I met Cyrus. A twisted Genie who loved mind games. He knew exactly what to do and what to say to make me fall for him. Exactly what buttons to push what strings to pull. I was his little toy. His puppet. And I fell for him like the vulnerable fool I was. He made me dependent on him, on his approval. But like what happens to all toys, I suppose, he got bored of me. So he decided to leave me, break me, and destroy me. He took me to a cliff, got down on one knee and proposed. I said yes. No sooner had the ecstatic word left my lips that his loving facade was dropped. He spilled the truth. He had never loved me. I was nothing more than a thing to distract him and amuse him. I was nothing. Worthless. Devastated. Shattered. Heartbroken. So I did the only thing I could. I went back to England. My father, afraid of losing me for good this time, threw me to Dr. Lydgate of Bethlem Asylum to "fix me," not that I really fought him much. What did I have to live for, when living just meant pain? The doctor never told my father just what they did to me in there, and my father never bothered to ask what "fixing me" meant. He never bothered to visit either. He never knew what they did to get me to behave, to get me to shut up, to get me to stop crying. He never saw the burns from electroshock therapy, the holes in my skin from the countless needles they shoved into me. He never knew how many fist-shaped bruises covered my arms, or how many stitches I needed that I still carried the scars from. No, he was left in the dark, and I was left to pay the price from each session of "fixing me." Unable to stand the pain anymore, I signed away my mind on a slip of paper giving them permission to lobotomize me... My one true shame, but Fate intervened and sent an old friend, my best friend, Will Scarlett to save a broken girl from from that hellhole. The White Rabbit, blaming himself for everything that had happened, decided to send me to the one place where people wouldn't judge me, or think I am crazy for talking about magical worlds. He sent me forward in time. He sent me to Storybrooke. That's how I ended up in here. Running away from the things I couldn't change, in hopes of finding peace and understanding, and that is exactly what I found. My adoptive uncle found me and rescued me from sleeping on a park bench, gave me a place to call home, and helped me quit trying to fight dealing with my past, helping me every step of the way. My son, as a mischievous little demon, taught me how to feel protective and maternal, unconditionally. Then I found the Hatter again. Time had passed much differently for us. I was no longer a little girl anymore, but a twenty year-old woman. Jefferson saved me from myself, healing each of my broken pieces with his own gentle heart. A mad-man fixing a scarred, broken girl. The Mad-Man and the Curious Girl. Someone I would follow to Neverland and beyond. And now, you know my story. Not the happiest one around, but definitely not the most miserable. Now, how can I help you? http://tl.gd/n_1rvsl0e
