A/N: This is terrible...I need sleep...
Disclaimer: I wish.
corpse dust
Crushed bones and blood make the prettiest colour, she finds. There are smoke and mirrors and smoke and mirrors and the white rabbit is asking for his watch back.
Stuck in a safe haven for split roses and broken dolls, tucked away in a corner between the universe and (un)reality. She thinks this is all a game.
There's her reflection, all baby fat and plastic smiles. Yellow eyes flash.
"John? Remember John?"
"John. John who liked apples," says her reflection.
"I killed him. Ripped his heart out and ate it like candy." She turns to the rabbit. "Tell me, am I mad?"
No answer. (un)Reality shifts beneath her feet and for a split second she's flying.
"No. I am a Noah. But. The Earl I think. Is mad as a hatter!"
She laughs at her own joke.
Digging half crescent moons into her palms, biting her lip cherry red. (un)Reality becomes an unfocused blur.
The rabbit melts into a puddle at her feet.
"White clowns were never my favourite," she tells her reflection.
"Hate them," it agrees.
The sky is crooked and bleeding like half drawn baby sketches.
She tosses the rabbit's dusty bones off the edge of (un)reality. Goodbye goodbye and don't come back. She can do what she wants because this is her dream.
"How long will you hide?" asks her reflection.
"Until I am found."
57 pairs of yellow grinning back at her.
"Better start counting then, dear."
(un)Reality cracks.