She saw the white, the never ending white, as if her dream had ended and become a nightmare. But she knew she would not wake, not for some time at least.

Not with all the sedatives she'd watched them give her.

Or, perhaps...

Perhaps she was becoming imune to them?

She wasn't surprised. She'd been here since she'd first told of her dreams, many years ago... rather, of her dream. She only ever had one, of course, the very same each time her eyes closed and her brain relaxed. She'd never much liked waking, to tell the truth, but since that day, the day she was brought here and first put on sedatives, all she would remember of her dream once she awoke, against her will, mind you, would be her own thoughts:

What is ... late for?

What do you mean? I am Alice!

I'm not stupid, I'm quite clever!

How can a ... grin? I didn't know ... could grin.

But I don't want ...! I want to find ... and ...!

Sir..., what's happened, are you alright?!

Don't worry, your ..., I will ..., you can count on me!

I rather like my ... if you don't mind, so my answer is yes, please help me to ...!

That's about the time she awakens, to stare at the ceiling above her bed at the institution. To wake, set off the monitor near her bed and then be sedated once more and fall... fall...

Do I fall?... yes... yes, I do remember falling at first... but nothing else is stirred to the surface, the memory cursed to lie in my unconsciousness forever so I'll never know...

All because of a dream I told mother when I was six.