It was her first and only visit the Bethlehem hospital for the mentally ill and it was an occasion that would color Alice's darker hours well into adulthood.

The first Tuesday of every month as everyone knew Bethlehem would open its doors to the gentry, those of moneyed and genteel society who wished to come and view those unfortunates that dwelt in the confines of the hospital's tender mercies.

It was on one such Tuesday that Alice was brought to Bethlehem by her father.

Kneeling down beside her at the hospital gates he addressed her

"Alice, this visit may prove upsetting for you but believe me, it is for your own good that i do this, for it is only by comparing the good fortune of your own circumstance to that of these poor wretched people that you will truly appreciate just how blessed you are to come from a good Christian home."

Though old now, Alice can still recall that day, albeit, with a noticeable tremor in her voice, as she retells those odd scenes of confusion and the poor benighted people that awaited them on that visit.

She recalls the fretful little man rushing here and there, running about the hospital grounds, spinning hither and thither, to and fro, all the time transfixed by the broken watch in his hands,

She recalls the comic tragedy of those twin brothers whose hatred of each other caused them to come bodily to blows, each claiming the other as usurper of his identity, each believing the other a counterfeit of his true self.

She recalls that preening man with the permanent grin lounging in the limbs of an old willow, unabashedly casting comments and aspersions on the passing crowds believing himself to be perfectly invisible to their eyes.

She recalls that bellicose old matron who adopted a haughty manner and thought herself to be the queen, she recalls her bustling through the gardens making out rules and orders to non-existent servants.

Alice remembers them all, and remembers that with each passing encounter she grew more and more unnerved. She remembers pressing closer to her father, gripping his hand tightly, and thanking God for the surety of his presence in such surroundings.

Alice also remembers the guard, though not without a hint of reproach in her demeanor as she does so.

She remembers the jangle of keys and the stale breath of gin that announced his presence, and that ill-fated bargain he struck with her father "A visit to the cells for a single penny, a guaranteed spectacle sir." That investiture of a single penny was to be reimbursed throughout Alice's future in nights of fitful sleep and recurring moments of dread.

The guard leading them into the cold stone monolith of a the hospital's body, bringing them through the steadily decaying and deteriorating interior, the crumbling corridors that stank of mold and piss, the continuous murmuring and sudden explosive cries that echoed through the halls, the legions of closed and faceless doors, she remembers it all.

Alice can still recall that moment when their small party stopped and found themselves standing faced with the obtuse bulk of a closed cell door.

She can still the muffled laughter that escaped between the door's hinges and the rancid strains of song that scraped out from beneath the door's imposing bulk.

And Alice recalls the guard recounting to her Father the history of his ward in the cell.

"You see sir, this poor ol' sod was a haberdasher before he wound up in here, he was quite successful too, all be told. Clients were from the top tier of society, all the good and great clambering to cover their heads with his work, he made a pretty penny from that lot so he did, a fat lot of good it done him though".

' Y'see, it was the hats that were the undoing of him sir, the quicksilver they use for curing the felt, well if it just didnt ease right into his blood, so it did... all in all it left the poor fella deranged"

"Some 'cure' that was eh, eh,? The poor old sod is well past curing now!" he chortled, turned the key in the lock and pulled the door open.

A fetid stench that flooded out through the now open portal, the first bloom of which belied an odious mix of stale sweat, fungal spore and fecal matter, then, following close behind, the bitter almond scent of death and sadness. Caught unguarded, Alice could barely steady herself against the ensuing nausea, gagging against that fug of despair her eyes blinded and began to tear. She leaned into her father, pulling his arm about her for some hope of comfort. In her blinded state she could only listen to the voices sounding out from the cell, and found them quite at odds to the seeming horror of her surroundings; snatched singing of dancehall songs, patches of riddles and joking, and the ragged stringing of broken politesse and chat, all that as if that forsaken cell held the very host of joviality itself.

Her father handed her his handkerchief and wiping her eyes, Alice peered into cell. Adjusting her eyes to the gloom she searched for the old hatter only to findshe found him, a most curious sight, sat alone on his cot, torso bared and wearing a soiled pillowslip on his head. A host of flies busied themselves about his person, occasionally settling on his body and limbs and even brazenly finding fixture on his fevered face, but the old man appeared not to notice as indeed he appeared not to notice their small company and the now open door of his cell. The cell itself was empty save for the old hatter and offer no other for conversation save for a greasy which rat scampered about the old mans feet scavenging for scraps of food and waste. He slowly rocked himself back and forth, his attention held by a curious bundle which lay cradled in his arms. Alice could not quite make out just what it was that the old man was nurturing so attentively, its form was obscured, but she was certain that it was from this unusual charge that the teasing smell of decay emanated.

"I say, my good man, just what sort of oddity has he got there?" Alice's father demanded of the guard.

It was then, as if on cue, the guard swung his stick against door which sounded out with a resounding clang. The shock of this noise seemed to alarm the old hatter from his reverie and leaping back from the door he to lost his grip on his prize which fell heavily onto the floor. Only then, as the old man backed distractedly away from them, could Alice make out just what it was he had been holding, for there on the floor lay the rotting corpse of a young hare, its head lolled slowly forward and its blind stare seemed to settle directly on Alice.

She screamed.

Jolted by this loss the Hatter sprang forward and grasping the hare by its pelt, its body swung limply as he snatched it greedily to his bosom. He glared at them, and dug his fingers deep into the flesh of the hare, clutching it tighter against his chest, causing one of its eyes to pop from its socket.

A shudder ran through the old man, his body shook and convulsed, tremors ran through his figure and erupted through the rotted ruin of his mouth, 'NO MORE ROOM! NO MORE ROOM!' he shrieked, suddenly lunging towards.

The guard, with a well practiced movement, swung the heavy cell door shut and Alice heard the old man crash against it's inside and slump against the floor where he began to mewl piteously in frustrated rage.

Roaring with laughter the guard turned to her father 'There now, what did i tell ya, wasn' t that a grand show for a penny!?'

"But" her Father protested "surely... the corpse, man? That animal, surely you can't leave that awful thing in there with him? Its not decent!".

"That as might be sir," replied the guard, who was fast becoming quite surly, "but its the only thing that keeps him peaceable sir, and I for one don't want be listening to his infernal laments if its taken from him".

"And now sir, if you will, its time you be on your way, visiting time is nearly over"

"But in all decency man, that corpse is festering" her father persisted "you cant possibly keep that thing in there with him, its not right... its not Christian, its just not done, its bally well madness!!".

"Ahh" said the guard with a smirk, " but this is Bedlam sir, and have you not heard? We're all bloody mad in here!" and with that he ushered them out, laughing to himself all the while.

Medium: Pen

This is my submission for the Black and White 'Alice in Wonderland' competition which is being hosted by [link]