Follow the White Rabbit
One
My adoptive parents are arguing. Again.
I am walking throughout the crazy town of Los Angeles in search of a distraction. The sun is beating down like usual; the tourists are running rampant. I brush past the strangers into a more solitude destination.
I walk the familiar streets to a local park. A park I have been visiting ever since the move to this horrendous town. My "parents" fight twice as much as they used to back in Banbury. Even the dog runs out of the house when the yelling begins.
My parents adopted me when I was only three. I have no real memories of my mother before Tess, nor my father before Ryan. They are the only family I know.
As I walk, I pull out my cell phone. I run through the downloaded songs and hit play on Jefferson Airplane's song White Rabbit. The bass drifted throughout my ears when a bump on the side of my body made the earbuds fall out.
"Watch where you're going, jerk!" I shouted at the back of a stranger now walking in front of me.
He turned around and the vision startled me and I gasped. The man wore a white rabbit mask over his head. It tucked beneath his shirt causing the appearance it was actually attached to his neck.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm very, very late." His head turned and his feet shuffled fast beneath his slender form. He ducked into an alley.
I do not know what overcame me, but my feet soon followed the exact footsteps this strange white rabbit took. I ducked into the alley behind him. He must have walked twice her speed, because he was already at the end of the twenty-or-so yard long alleyway.
He turned right. So did I. He walked six blocks, took a left, then crossed streets where he almost got hit my a car, then a right. So did I.
I followed him into a construction site. Then into a half-built home. Then into the basement.
I must have fallen through a drainage line, must have fallen two hundred feet before I landed on my back. I must have hit my head. Because now all I see is black.
I am walking throughout the crazy town of Los Angeles in search of a distraction. The sun is beating down like usual; the tourists are running rampant. I brush past the strangers into a more solitude destination.
I walk the familiar streets to a local park. A park I have been visiting ever since the move to this horrendous town. My "parents" fight twice as much as they used to back in Banbury. Even the dog runs out of the house when the yelling begins.
My parents adopted me when I was only three. I have no real memories of my mother before Tess, nor my father before Ryan. They are the only family I know.
As I walk, I pull out my cell phone. I run through the downloaded songs and hit play on Jefferson Airplane's song White Rabbit. The bass drifted throughout my ears when a bump on the side of my body made the earbuds fall out.
"Watch where you're going, jerk!" I shouted at the back of a stranger now walking in front of me.
He turned around and the vision startled me and I gasped. The man wore a white rabbit mask over his head. It tucked beneath his shirt causing the appearance it was actually attached to his neck.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm very, very late." His head turned and his feet shuffled fast beneath his slender form. He ducked into an alley.
I do not know what overcame me, but my feet soon followed the exact footsteps this strange white rabbit took. I ducked into the alley behind him. He must have walked twice her speed, because he was already at the end of the twenty-or-so yard long alleyway.
He turned right. So did I. He walked six blocks, took a left, then crossed streets where he almost got hit my a car, then a right. So did I.
I followed him into a construction site. Then into a half-built home. Then into the basement.
I must have fallen through a drainage line, must have fallen two hundred feet before I landed on my back. I must have hit my head. Because now all I see is black.