My nose twitched at the smell of bacon and my stomach growled loudly. I sat up, rubbing my eyes to see the sun rising over the mountain. The gentle, deep humming of a man came from the kitchen and my heart pounded in fear. Who was in the kitchen?

I stood, making sure that the oversized button down shirt covered everything and slid on a pair of grey leggings. Slowly I edged my way towards the kitchen, hiding behind the half wall. My heart was pounding in my ears, adrenaline rushed through my veins.

“Riley what are you doing?” I yelped and fell backwards landing on the floor with a dull thud as Drew stood over me with panic. “Are you alright?”

I nodded, my face growing hot. “Fine.” I mumbled, standing up and brushing myself off.

“Sorry for scaring you.” He apologised as I walked to the kitchen. A small smile lit up my face as I looked at the slightly charred bacon and undercooked eggs. It was sweet that he’d tried but from the look of things he couldn’t cook very well- I guess it was the thought that counts though.

I moved into the kitchen and when he followed me, pointedly looked at a stool sitting behind the breakfast bar. I guess I trusted him a little bit more; he had the chance to hurt me when I was asleep but instead tried to cook breakfast. True he came into my apartment uninvited but it was his property and it was a given that he would have a master key so it wasn’t like he was breaking any laws. Not like Paul.

He sat down on the chair and I could feel him watching me as I moved around the small kitchen, getting out the things I needed and tossing away the burnt and undercooked food.

The kitchen used the space well with many cupboards and lots of bench space. A small herb garden sat on the breakfast bar which was in front of the sink.

I mixed up the scrambled egg mix, adding a bit of Sweet Chilli sauce to make it tangy. The whole apartment smelt of bacon and egg- pretty good if I do say so myself.

I hadn’t cooked much over the last year; Paul hardly ever eaten and there was never any food in the kitchen, ever. I could never figure out why Paul never ate but I guess now I knew, everything made sense. His erratic behaviour, temper, abuse, nocturnal habits and why I never saw him during the day. Last night was the first time I had gotten a good night’s sleep and I felt better for it.

Come to think of it I felt full of energy, like I could do anything. I wanted to run, as fast and as far as I could.

I snapped back to reality just before the bacon ended up like last time. I spooned everything onto two separate plates and set them in front of Drew with a knife and a fork. Before I could sit down I pulled out a glass and poured out some orange juice.

When I turned back to Drew an airy laugh escaped. He was shovelling the food into his mouth like it was his last meal. He gave me a cheeky grin before setting down his fork and chewing what was in his mouth. “You’re an amazing cook Riley!”

A gave him a small smile as I sat on a stool, a few feet away from him. I sipped my juice and took very small forks of egg, savouring the flavour and putting my fork down between bites. As much as I wanted to eat everything on my plate, only half of what I’d given Drew, I knew that I would be sick if I tried and that would just end with me back in the infirmary.

I set my fork down after a few minutes and began staring the crevices in the stone walls- this castle must have been hundreds of years old! I had always found history fascinating and I’m sure that his castle had an interesting past.

“Riley?” I sighed and turned my head to look at Drew. Why was it always him who bought me out of my thoughts? “You need to eat more.” My temper flared at his order and I frowned, shaking my head. “Why?” He asked curiously, pushing back his stool and pulling out the one next to me. His proximity unnerved me, though his scent was very appealing. I still remembered the way he growled, the wolf that held eyes similar, if not the same as his. These things only added to his sheer size and ethereal aura; he was dangerous, very dangerous. I didn’t get the impression that he was going to hurt me but even the most innocent person can be a very good liar, manipulative and cunning.

“I can’t.” I answered truthfully, at least one of us needed to be honest; not that I expected him to tell me anything, apart from what to do.

“Why?” He asked again. I felt his hot gaze slide over my face, seeming to memorise my features.

“I can’t.” I repeated softly. Standing I gathered my plate and cup, as I walked past Drew I attempted to give him a wide berth, preferring my personal space.

Just as I thought I was in the clear a large hand wrapped around my waist, the other taking the plates gently from me and resting them on the bench.

Before I could begin panicking he swiftly picked my body up and sat me on the cold marble bench.  Black dots danced in my vision at his proximity and I felt faint, I was hyperventilating as I rested my hands against his chest and pushed him away, needing breathing space.

He stepped back but made no move to move away any further. “Why do you always push me away?” He asked. I resisted the urge to snort as my beating heart began to return to its normal state. I had been making headway; I ignored him the few days I was in the infirmary and spoke few words. For me, this felt like taking a huge leap into the unknown, putting a sliver of trust in this man who seemed to affectionate for his own good.

Stubbornly I kept my gaze locked on the wall behind him. I wasn’t going to rise to his questioning; sooner or later he would leave, hopefully sooner.

“Riley.” I liked the way he pronounced my name, the way it rolled of his tongue; I didn’t like his tone though, it sounded like he was talking to an insolent child.

“Riley.” I scampered up to Paul’s side as he dealt the cards. I swallowed thickly as the men around the table eyed me up with hunger in their eyes. “Get us all another drink.” He ordered.

I nodded and went to do as he asked, not wanting to anger him; he had become aggressive lately and I didn’t know why. A box of unlabelled cans sat on the floor next to the fridge and my lip curled at the thought of warm soda or beer; though they didn’t really need to be in the fridge to stay cold due to the freezing temperatures.

A shiver passed through me as the cold seeped into my bones; I was freezing but I couldn’t leave the table to rug up, I had to stay by Paul’s side or face a beating... or worse.

Picking up five cans in both hands I walked back to the table and placed one in front of each of his friends, leaving Paul’s until last. As I walked to him, one of his friends stuck his foot out in my road. I had no time to step over it and instead tripped, falling face first onto the floor. I landed on the can, squashing it and sending dark red liquid all over myself.

I hissed as the metal can left a painful mark on my chest. I heard a chair scrape against the floor as someone stood and I was hauled up to my feet. I looked into Paul’s angry eyes as his nostrils flared.

The sound of skin hitting skin echoed loudly around the room and my head snapped to the side swiftly as my cheek stung. Black dots danced in my vision as my face throbbed painfully, my eyes watering and the world blurred. No one should be able to hit that hard, it felt like I had been bitch slapped by a car door.

“I asked one simple thing Riley.” He said in a patronising tone, like he was talking to an idiot, like someone would talk to a child. “Clean yourself up and get me another beer.” He ordered throwing me onto the ground as his friends began laughing.

I nodded pathetically and scampered off.

That was when the abuse started.

“Riley!” I looked at Drew as he called my name worriedly. “Maybe I should get the doctor here, you keep spacing out.” He said concerned, looking into my eyes.

“No.” I said, wiggling away so I could hop off the bench. “I’m fine.”

I knew that he didn’t believe me but I didn’t care, as long as he didn’t put me back in the infirmary. I felt so full that I just wanted to sleep and read for a while; I’d always loved reading.  

I walked over to the bookshelf and scanned through the books, though one title caught my eye ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’; my favourite childhood story. Every night, both my parents would sit by my bed after tucking me and dad would read a chapter, acting out the voices much to my childish enthusiasm. As I had grown older and learnt how to read, dad and I would spend hours in his study practically consuming books.

Gently pulling the book from the bookshelf I sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth. I became submerged in a world of talking rabbits, animated cards, abnormal animals and mad hatters.

I watched as the March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily. My eyes widening as he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again.

I had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity. 'What a funny watch!' I remarked in wonder. 'It tells the day of the month, and doesn't tell what o'clock it is!'

'Why should it?' muttered the Hatter. 'Does your watch tell you what year it is?'

'Of course not,' I replied very readily: 'but that's because it stays the same year for such a long time together.'

'Which is just the case with mine,' said the Hatter.

I felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter's remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. 'I don't quite understand you,' I said, as politely as she could.

'The Dormouse is asleep again,' said the Hatter, and he poured a little hot tea upon its nose.

The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening its eyes, 'Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself.'

'Have you guessed the riddle yet?' the Hatter said, turning to me again.

'No, I give it up,' I replied tiredly: 'what's the answer?'

'I haven't the slightest idea,' said the Hatter.

'Nor I,' said the March Hare.

I sighed wearily. 'I think you might do something better with the time,' I said, 'than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.'

'If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, 'you wouldn't talk about wasting it, it's him.'

'I don't know what you mean,' I said feeling very confused and slightly overwhelmed; the Cheshire Cat was right, they’re all mad.

'Of course you don't!' the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. 'I dare say you never even spoke to Time!'

'Perhaps not,' I cautiously replied: 'but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.'

'Ah! that accounts for it,' said the Hatter. 'He won't stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!'

'I only wish it was,' the March Hare said to itself in a whisper, barely loud enough for me to hear.

'That would be grand, certainly,' I said  thoughtfully: 'but then—I shouldn't be hungry for it, you know.'

'Not at first, perhaps,' said the Hatter: 'but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.'

'Is that the way you manage?' I asked.

The Hatter shook his head mournfully. 'Not I!' he replied. 'We quarrelled last March—just before he went mad, you know—'  he said pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare, '—it was at the great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing

"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!

How I wonder what you're at!"

You know the song, perhaps?'

'I've heard something like it,' I replied.

'It goes on, you know,' the Hatter continued, 'in this way:—

"Up above the world you fly,

Like a tea-tray in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle—"'

Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep 'Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle—' and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.

'Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse,' said the Hatter, 'when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, "He's murdering the time! Off with his head!"'

'How dreadfully savage!' I exclaimed.

'And ever since that,' the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, 'he won't do a thing I ask! It's always six o'clock now.'

A bright idea came into my head. 'Is that the reason so many tea-things are put out here?' I asked.

'Yes, that's it,' said the Hatter with a sigh: 'it's always tea-time, and we've no time to wash the things between whiles.'

'Then you keep moving round, I suppose?'  I asked, finally piecing together this crazy situation.

'Exactly so,' said the Hatter: 'as the things get used up.'

'But what happens when you come to the beginning again?' I ventured to ask.

'Suppose we change the subject,' the March Hare interrupted, yawning. 'I'm getting tired of this. I vote the young lady tells us a story.'

'I'm afraid I don't know one,' I said, rather alarmed at the proposal.

“Riley!”

I sat up straight, looking around with bleary eyes. Where was I? I wasn’t in wonderland that’s for sure. A hulking figure kneeled next to the couch I must have fallen asleep on. I felt my pulse spike before I met their eyes- emerald… Drew. His green eyes shined with amusement and I cursed myself for being in a vulnerable position. Again.

“You’re drooling.” I raised a hand to my mouth and my whole face heated up as I realised I had been. He rested his forearms against the couch and chuckled. “If it hadn’t been for your snoring I would have thought that you were in a coma, you were so still. Do you always sleep like that?”

I nodded and rubbed the last remnants of sleep out of my eyes. I had always slept like the dead, it used to freak my parents and the boys out when they came to check on me to find me total still, the only indication that I was still breathing were the light flutters of my chest and soft snores. Though I never truly knew if they were just trying to embarrass me with the fact that I snored or were actually telling the truth; I guess I know now.

Sneaking a glance out the window I realised that I must have been asleep for hours; the sun was setting over the mountain and the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees since the fire had gone out.

“I wanted to see if you were interested in seeing a movie with me? I have my own home theatre so you don’t have to be around other people.”

I deliberated on whether or not I could trust him to be in a dark room by ourselves; he could try anything. But then who am I kidding? He’s had multiple chances to take advantage of yet he hasn’t. I nodded and stood, rotating my neck to get out all the cricks; the couch was comfortable but not the best place to sleep.

When Drew said he was next door, he actually meant across the hall.

It was an open plan and I could see the living room which had a light brown hickory coloured entertainment cabinet, coffee table and shelf, while plush cream coloured couches matched the rug under the coffee table as well as complemented the dark laminate flooring. 

I could also see the kitchen which had a huge island as the centre piece with a black speckled marble surface, cabinets on the back and multiple appliances including a giant stainless steel fridge and stainless steel toaster on the pristine bench.

It was so much bigger than my apartment and the fireplace was huge! It warmed the room astronomically and in front of the fire sat a huge fur rug- it looked so soft and warm.

A half wall, much like the one in my room, concealed the bedroom and a hallway led to a multitude of doors. Drew directed me down the corridor and pushed open the first door to the right.

As we walked into the home theatre, five figures were splayed across the floor, resting on giant beige pillows. I hesitated, my eyes growing wide. Drew had said that it was only he and I; he had lied and now I was in an apartment alone with five strange people and a manipulative liar.

They all turned around at the same time, as I took a step backwards towards the door.  My heart stopped beating as I registered who exactly was in the room.