Wow! Thank you so much for all those wonderful reviews! Please keep them up! Your comments and critique definitely motivate me to improve my writing, and I really take everything you say into account. Your reviews always make my week!

Thanks to emilyforprez, once again, for editing!

Down the Rabbit Hole
"In another moment, Alice went down after it, never once
considering how in the world she was to get out again."

Quinn darted towards the exit and clamored out the front yard, and all the while she began to clearly rationalize the many oddities occurring in that precise moment. As she sprinted across the lawn, a reasonable list formulated in her mind, and she balanced the tedious double task of running and analyzing the scene at the same time. She jumped over a rocky pathway and began going over the mental list, for she was too much of a logical person not to do such a thing. So as she continued her route down the street, Quinn contemplated rationally that this moment was outlandish for several reasons, including

1) The moving trucks were completely extracted from her view. Had they really finished unpacking that quickly? How could they have left without an obligatory goodbye?

2) Her family had seemingly disappeared as well. And as Quinn vaguely recalled, they were not inside the house when she so swiftly breezed through. Though she could be mistaken, Quinn was still quite positive they could have not been inside when she was sprinting away for they would have surely objected to their youngest daughter's brash actions.

3) Most pointedly, she had spotted from her mirror a boy in a wheelchair rolling across her front yard from her window, and thus began this spontaneous quest of running after him as he declared his current status as being "so very late."

Late to what, Quinn wasn't so sure. Not to be of the offensive sort, but what did boys in wheelchairs have to be late for? Didn't their condition by default allowed them extra allotted time for whatever event they participated in? Surely he shouldn't be in such a dramatic hurry, and the fact that he was wheeling over her new garden had sparked a deep agitation within Quinn. (Not that she had planted it herself or anything or even had any plans to further add flowers; it was just the idea of rolling over a garden was simply rude.)

"Hey! You're ruining the roses!" Quinn yelled after him. She thought about shaking her fist to add some performance, but he wasn't even looking her way. In fact, it seemed he was completely oblivious to the fact that she had been chasing him this whole time. They were certainly no longer in front of the new Fabray house, but perhaps Quinn could don a vigilante demeanor and stop him from further ruining the gardens of Lima's upper-class neighborhood.

"Hey! You!" Quinn yelled again. "Get - " Deep breath. "Back here!" For being in a wheelchair, this boy was rather fast. She found it a little embarrassing that for being a well-bodied girl, she was having pronounce difficulties keeping up with him. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

"Oh, I am too late! Late, late, late!" was his only response, but it was not even directed towards her. He was chanting it to himself, a consistent punishment to remind him of his disorderly timing.

"For what?" Quinn heard herself yell, both out of curiosity and irritation. She began quickening her pace, for being the ex-captain of her previous high school's cheerleading squad, she would not be outrun by the disabled.

Grabbing the sides of her light blue dress, Quinn kicked up her feet as she hastened faster, careful to avoid any accidents. Because despite the fact that she was chasing a boy in a wheelchair, she still wanted to maintain a ladylike presence and avoid flashing any residents her undergarments.

Moving in closer to the target, she noted another peculiar asset to add to her list of building oddities. The boy was in... all white. From the leather gloves to his beaten up tennis shoes, he wheeled forward with such frantic determination on his face as he adjusted the lopsided frames of his glasses. His white pants were still nicely tailored and far from broken in – most likely from its lack of real physical use. He had on a white button up shirt, laced together up top with a pure white bow tie. To pull his rather interesting ensemble together was a heavy knitted sweater vest of (surprise, surprise) the white color palette.

A small part of her was slightly insulted if he was trying mimic the look of Jesus Christ, but she decided that this kid was just honestly insane.

As she hurried to his side, Quinn also noticed he was in a desperate need of a haircut. Perhaps if he wasn't in such a hurry, Quinn thought mockingly, then he would have time to go to a salon.

Realizing that this was a perfect moment to actually talk aloud and not mumble internally, Quinn ran faster as she tried to catch the unsteadiness of her breath. "What," she heaved, "do you think you're doing?"

"Oh dear! Oh dear! I'm late, so very - "

"Yeah, late, I get it," Quinn snapped, shaking her head. "But what for?"

But then he was gone.

Quinn's eyes widened as she stopped running, turning a full 360 degrees. Her body suddenly enveloped into a state of frenzy.

There were no more houses.

No more destroyed gardens or Dairy Queens or any signs of Lima county.

Just stretches of grassy fields unfolding before her, repelling any signs of civilization. Quinn blinked ferociously, tightening her grip on the edges of her skirt. She kept her eyes shut, her knuckles turning white as she muttered, "Where am I? I don't remember... how I got here. Oh my goodness, this can't be happening. This will all go away. This isn't real. This isn't happening. When I count to three, I'll be home. One... Two..." But Quinn opened her eyes before three and there she was, still standing in the middle of a prairie land.

Taking a cautious step forward, she gulped as she let go of her dress, impatiently pattering her feet across the silky grass. She had no memory nor any inclination on how she arrived there, only that she was chasing the crazy wheelchair kid and his crucial schedule. Pondering further, Quinn suddenly became very conscious of how alone she was, and even more, how quickly dangerous her situation had become. What if that kid was a murderer? Or what if he was just an accomplice? What if there was a murderer right behind her? Quinn shrieked as she jumped around, but her feet never made it to the ground.

She was falling.

Down, down, down. Quinn screamed as she watched the light above her slowly shrink away. It was too big to be a rabbit hole, yet, it was the only conclusion that made any sense (for once again, Quinn was very logical, and she had to make sense of everything). So she screamed louder, flailing her limbs back and forth as the hole almost disappeared instantly from sight, and after several seconds of this, her throat was starting to tire so she took a break from all of her yelling.

Down, down, down. "This is a really long fall," she voiced absently, her tone bordering on boredom. But truly, it was. It had already been several minutes, and quite honestly, Quinn was more concerned by how much more she would fall than how hard the end will be.

Suddenly, something caught the corner of her eye. Bookshelves pressed against the walls. Cabinets, picture frames, and even lamps blurred into vision. A floating glue gun was falling next to her on her right, and as she glanced to her left, scattered puzzle pieces danced by her side. Leaning forward, Quinn balanced herself as she reached to grab what seemed to be a brand new toilet brush holder. "Mahogany," she noted impressively and placed it back on one of the nearby shelves.

"It's been awhile," Quinn continued to speak aloud. She thought (albeit the potential serial killer) there was no one there to hear her, so there was really no need to keep her thoughts only in her head. "I wonder if anybody's noticed I've gone? Oh, surely! How could they not? Mom is probably hysterical, and daddy probably has a the whole police station looking for me. How embarrassing! I haven't even started school yet, and I'll already be known as the girl with the entire SWAT team searching for her! Frannie's probably trying to steal my wardrobe right this very second. Like she can fit into anything! That metabolism of hers isn't as quick as it used to be. Ugh, but no one's going to find me. Who would think to look in a rabbit hole? Oh, it's no use. I'll be falling for all eternity! Well, at least I won't have to live in Lima."

The sound of a thump! thump! shattered her monologue as Quinn's feet collided against a solid floor, and she found herself not the least bit hurt. Squinting, she noticed a dark passageway before her, and there, shimmering distinctively against the black backdrop, was the wheelchair boy rushing through the hall.

"Wait!" Quinn yelled out after him. She found herself stumbling carelessly with her hands outstretched to avoid any accidents.

"It's getting so late!" he squeaked, paying no attention to Quinn's calls as he wheeled faster.

"Wait, please, stop!" Quinn twitched, not comfortable using such a begging tone. "Stop! Please!" But as she turned the corner, the boy was gone. A row of colorful lamps lit up the new hallway, hanging silently from the roof. All around her were doors of various shapes and sizes, tilted at all sorts of angles. Biting her lip, Quinn approached the first one, reaching out to turn the knob. No such luck as it did not budge. Figuring that the wheelchair boy could not have reached the higher doors, Quinn stuck to trying to open the lower ones, but as she made her first round, none were so kind to opening for her.

Just as she was about to start her second round, she noticed a velvet curtain that she was sure she had not seen earlier. Gingerly lifting it up, she realized there was a small wooden door hid behind it. Quinn stood once more, and as she rose, her heel struck against the leg of a table – a table that had also certainly not been there before.

Quinn let out a little gasp as she took several steps back, but a sparkling trinket caught her eye as she approached the table once more. A key! Snatching it merrily, Quinn returned to the little door and shoved the golden key into the lock. She beamed gaily as it opened with ease. However, as she bent down to crawl through, she found her head could barely fit through the door, and Quinn pushed herself back, dumbfounded by the level of predicaments she was being confronted right after the other.

Seeing that there was no use just sitting there, Quinn turned back to the center of the room and found that the table had another surprising amenity on it. A fragile green bottle was perched on top with a paper label reading 'Drink Me', and she once again noted that this certainly was not there before.

Circling the table, Quinn stared at the bottle inquisitively, reviewing her options. "If I drink the bottle, I could be poisoned. Or perhaps it's medicine and I'll be put to sleep, and the murderer would have his way with me. Or... perhaps it's a nice lemonade or something. And I am getting thirsty, and since there is no other way out... But..." Quinn tilted her head, picking up the bottle with overt and extreme caution. "Well, I really don't have any other choice, do I? There's nothing else here for me to do!" And with a quick Sign of the Cross, Quinn said her prayers as she gulped down the bottle. To her lovely delight, it was not disgusting but tasted like a hot, sweet cider, bubbling up pleasantly in her throat as she downed the rest of the liquid.

And as she drank happily, Quinn hardly noticed that the bottle was becoming even bigger than herself. Her palms stretched widely as she tried to maintain her grasp, but suddenly, Quinn found herself hugging the bottle as her body had shrunken to about twelve inches high. She shrieked, pushing the bottle away from her, falling to the floor as she scrambled messily on to her feet. Examining her small self, Quinn bit her bottom lip as she shook her head in shame.

"Now how will anyone ever find me? This is just getting worse and worse! What will – oh! The door!" Quinn broke off her rant turned back around. She ran towards the little door, regained pep evident in her strides. And as she reached for the handle, she suddenly remembered the key, and her eyes grew terrifyingly wide. "The key!" And turning around once again, she looked back up at the table, which was now skyscraper high, and the golden key that laid innocently on top. "Oh, no! No, no, no!" Quinn cried out, shaking her head in her hands. "Now it's getting even worse! How will I climb up there?" Despite her sound logic, she still reached for one of the table's legs, but it proved to be too slippery to safely ascend; even her years at the the top of the cheer pyramid would not help.

Falling from her attempted climb, Quinn landed back on the floor, but her hand brushed against a curiously squishy object. Glancing down to her right, she saw a tiny pink cake with yellow icing spelling out 'Eat Me' in the same delicate cursive as the bottle. Quinn tapped a finger against her chin. She figured if she grew smaller, she could fit herself into the keyhole of the door and crawl through. If she grew back to normal size, well, all the better. Figuring reasonably that she had really nothing else to lose at this point, Quinn grabbed the cake and began munching on it with only a splinter of hesitation.

And slowly, as she continued to eat, she found herself looking down at the tiny table and the even tinier golden key as her head banged miserably against the top of the ceiling.

Quinn had expected to grow back to her normal size.

She was even prepared to shrink down a little smaller.

She certainly did not expect to surpass all that and grow ten feet tall.

Her body bent in very fascinating positions in order to comply to her compact surroundings. Readjusting her neck, she tried stretching out her left knee, but for some odd reason, her right elbow would not allow it; even her toes seemed to be suppressing any movement. Trying to blow a sneaky strand of blond hair out of her face, Quinn found her left hand being pressed down underneath her own bottom, and as she craned her neck further against the roof, she found it physically impossible to remove said appendage.

"Oh, great! This is just fabulous!" she shrieked sarcastically, but her body remained awkwardly posed when she tried to throw her arms up in despair. "Just... great!"

Quinn felt more and more ridiculous as she tried to move around, and by doing so, she was only making a bigger fool of herself. How did she let herself unravel into such a mess? She knew, realistically, she had only been unpacking perhaps an hour ago, but the insanity that was creeping up on her made it feel like a decade ago.

"Frannie's probably stolen half of my dresses by now! I saw her eying my peony sundress when I unpacked it. Oh, I bet she's bringing it back to New Hampshire with her. With that butt of hers, she's just going to rip the damn thing." Quinn pouted a bit. "But at this rate, I won't even be able to stick an arm in it either. There goes my entire wardrobe. I certainly can't wear this blue dress forever. That is, if I ever get out of here..." And as she went around in a full circle, her rant started all over again.

"None of this would have even happened if that wheelchair kid never ran by! What was he thinking? There's a reason for sidewalks! Oh, my legs are cramping. I can't believe this. I'm ten feet tall, I'm stuck, and none of these doors open!" Quinn whined, and if she could cross her arms, she would have.

"I knew Lima would be trouble. I never wanted any of this! I was so happy back home, and now I can't even move my fingers! I can't even see my feet anymore! I was wearing such cute shoes." Surprisingly, Quinn felt a warm tear drip down her cheek, and the more she allowed herself to think about her predicament, the more tears that fell from her eyes. Suddenly, Quinn was in hysterics, and the over sized tear droplets splashed all around her, creating salty puddles of water. "All I - " Hiccup. "Want is - " Hiccup. "To be back - " Hiccup, hiccup. "Home!"

She was sobbing so violently that her whole body shook, clashing against the doorknobs that lined all around the hallway. It became so awful that the tears leveled out to almost a whole foot high, creating a small current within the cramped hallway.

Though thoroughly busy with her teary breakdown, Quinn felt something leathery brush up against the tips of her right fingers. She let out a quick sob before glancing down at whatever touched her, and to her curiosity, it was a white leather glove.

White leather glove...

The wheelchair kid!

Wiggling her finger tips, Quinn tried splashing the glove closer towards her hand, desperately trying to snatch it. Though it took several attempts, it finally circled towards palm, and Quinn awkwardly snapped her hand shut, the little glove captured between her fingers.

"That's what you get when you're in such a hurry," Quinn explained out loud, her tears starting to dry up on her face. "You don't pay attention to what you drop. That crazy, stupid kid with his stupid clothes and stupid glasses and stupid wheelchair and this stupid rabbit hole and – hey! I'm shrinking!"

As she broke off from her rant, the little white glove she held in her hand was not so little anymore. In fact, Quinn had returned to her normal size, and she slipped her own fingers inside the glove. It was a bit discerning that it was slightly bigger than she had hoped – or, wait, a lot bigger. Much bigger. Too big! Quinn struggled out of the glove, which was now trying to swallow her whole body, and unfortunately, the salty river she created with her tears was allowing her to float away.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Quinn yelped, doing a breaststroke against the current. "Stupid, magical gloves... I will not drown in my own tears! I refuse!"

"These are your tears?" A voice squeaked, and Quinn whipped around, almost fully toppling headfirst into the water. Across the way was another girl, just as small as Quinn (and perhaps even smaller), swimming in the same direction. She had long black hair with a very entertaining case of red streaks, which matched very easily with her red and black attire. Though her look was, Quinn admitted, a bit intimidating, the girl herself did not appear so. In fact, she carried a very fearful and painfully shy expression, so Quinn took a huge gulp of air before swimming towards the girl.

When she popped her head to the surface, the girl looked like she was about to shrink even smaller, a devastatingly timid look in her expression. Seeing that Quinn finally found another human (albeit a tiny one), she was not trying to scare the girl away, so she mustered up her friendly smile and maintained good distance. "Hi! Hi, I'm Quinn. Please tell me, do you know how to get out of here?"

The girl remained quiet, almost shocked that Quinn was speaking to her. Taking in a patient breath, Quinn continued speaking. "I fell down the rabbit hole! There was a boy, he had white clothes. And glasses! He was in a wheelchair and I followed him down here and now... now, I can't find my way out!"

"The W-White Rabbit!" The girl suddenly exclaimed, her face more relaxed.

"What?"

"He's the W-White Rabbit."

"I..." Quinn began reluctantly. "But... he's... not a rabbit."

"No, he's not. He's the W-White Rabbit!"

Quinn stared uncertainly, but she was getting really tired of treading water, so she didn't push the matter any further. "Well, what was he late for?"

"He's always so late," the girl shook her head shamefully.

"That's not a surprise," Quinn rolled her eyes. "He ran over my garden, you know. And I just moved into that house. If I get anything out of this, it'd better be an apology. I can already see Frannie blaming the whole thing on me! Frannie's my sister, you see, and she loves pinning me as the scapegoat. It's been that way since we were kids. Once, she put an electric tooth brush near her hair and it started to tangle so she had to cut it herself and it was all lopsided and she managed to blame the whole thing on me and – hey! Where do you think you're going?"

"Oh, excuse me miss, but I don't like to swim very much, so I w-was heading to shore."

"What!" Quinn gasped, flapping her arms in the water. "You know how to get out of here?"

"Of course!"

"How!" Quinn practically screeched. She debated whether or not to shake the girl for withholding such information for so long, but then again, she still needed to know how to escape.

"W-Well," the girl stuttered simply, lifting a hand out of the water. "There's land up there."

Quinn span around, practically jumping out of the water as she saw the patch of land approaching towards them. As she swam faster, the patch expanded into a whole island, and Quinn almost leaped out of the water, crawling hysterically onto the sand. Sprawling like an eagle, she breathed deeply as she tried to calm herself and steady her breath. The thumping of her heart filled her ears, each rat-tat-tat aching pain, pain, pain.

"W-Wow," the girl commented, standing right beside her. She tilted her head, bashfully examining Quinn's exhausted state. "You look very tired."

Quinn closed her eyes. "You have no idea."

"I think Mr. Dodo w-would like to meet you!"

"Pardon?"

"Mr. Dodo. He lives over there." She pointed west. "He always likes meeting new people."

"Mister... Dodo."

The girl nodded.

"Like... a dodo bird?"

"Oh, he's not a bird!"

"Right," she threw her arms dramatically in the air, sarcasm evident in her voice. "Like how the White Rabbit isn't a rabbit, of course Mr. Dodo isn't a dodo." Quinn sighed, pushing herself up onto her knees. "Let me guess, you're name is probably Black Sheep or Red Bat or something."

The girl gave a confused look and shook her head. "No. I'm Mouse."

"Mouse?"

The girl smiled shyly.

"Just Mouse?" Quinn smirked. "I should have known. Well, Mouse, will this Mr. Dodo help me get out of here?"

"Mr. Dodo knows many things. W-Where are you trying to go?"

"Home!" she proclaimed, her tone exasperated yet grateful. "You see, I don't live here. I live above the rabbit hole. I just don't know how to get out."

"W-Well," Mouse began, kicking a small rock with her chunky black boots. "I can take you to Mr. Dodo, but I don't know anything about a rabbit hole. I'm sure there's something he can do, and he's always w-willing to help out anyone."

Pulling herself up, Quinn clapped her hands together, shaking off sand residue. "To Mr. Dodo's it is! Do you think he has food?"

Mouse stared at her strangely, but she nodded nonetheless. "I w-wouldn't see w-why not."

"Perfect," she beamed, a lighter mood replacing her previous darker one. It was only logical that with this potential hope, pessimism would not be of such help. And since Quinn was (once again) a logical girl, it was only appropriate for her to think such a way.

With Mouse leading the way, they headed out, the salty water still tackling the back of their heels. The land seemed endless, with no signs of life but the pure blue sky and slippery sand. There was no level of temperature – it just simply was. No heat, no frost. Despite dripping wet from their watery adventure, she felt no chilly breeze or bitter coldness. Even with Mouse being as strange as she was, Quinn found herself feeling strangely comfortable with her. Sure, she wasn't the greatest conversationalist, but it was a nice feeling not being alone and Quinn was truly thankful.

They had been walking for a few minutes now, and though silence should be cherished, Quinn had quite enough of it. Clearing her throat delicately, she smoothed out her blond hair in attempt to regain her ringlets. "So, I assume you're friends with Mr. Dodo? And the White Rabbit?"

Mouse smiled humbly, tucking her dark hair behind her ear. "Mr. Dodo, yes. He's helped me quite a few times in the past. However, the W-White Rabbit, I have not met personally, but I've heard w-wonderful things about him. He's just always in such a hurry. I can never catch him."

"You and me the same," Quinn muttered to herself.

"But he seems like a really great guy. I w-would love to meet him, but I've found it impossible..." Mouse trailed off quickly as she lowered her eyes, her cheeks turning a light pink tint. It looked incredibly out of place against her dark outfit, and it made it easier for Quinn to spot.

"Do you have a thing for the White Rabbit?" she smiled, quirking a mischievous eyebrow.

"W-What? I've never met him!"

"But it sounds like you have a little crush," Quinn sang teasingly.

Mouse's pink cheeks morphed into a flaming red, and she opened her mouth to speak but nothing plausible came out. Quinn angled her head to sneak a better view of Mouse's expression, but her red and black hair obscured her vision.

"Despite his bad direction at rolling his wheelchair, I do suppose he could potentially come off as charming," Quinn shrugged. "His wardrobe choice is faulty, but then again, I don't think you would mind very much." Both scanned over Mouse's corseted black dress with red fringe, and Quinn sympathetically petted her shoulder. "So at least you two have that in common! It would be a great conversation starter."

Mouse smiled timidly, her pinkness slowly creeping away from her face. Quinn prodded her shoulder with her own, giving a gentle smile. "You really have a thing for him, don't you?"

"He doesn't even know I exist," Mouse whispered, fiddling with her thumbs.

"'Cause you haven't introduced yourself to him!" she insisted. As Mouse remained silent, Quinn quickened her pace and moved in front of her, stopping their trek. "What if I helped?" she asked, and Mouse glanced up at her. "You helped me get out of the water and now you're taking me to see Mr. Dodo. Certainly a simple thanks isn't enough to show my gratitude."

"No, you don't have to if you don't w-want..."

"But I want to!" Quinn said quickly. "I'm really quite the matchmaker when I want to be. You know, when I'm not trying to sabotage a relationship, but I assure you that was that one time!" She shook her head, tossing aside her unfinished story. "Anyways, think of it as my thanks to you for helping me out. What do you say?"

Mouse bit her lip. "Do you think it w-will w-work?"

"I'll make sure it does," Quinn nodded confidently. "I usually get what I want." As she returned to Mouse's side, they continued their quest, discussing briefly their plan and the limited details about the White Rabbit. Quinn found it a little funny that they had been walking for awhile now, and yet their had been no change in the daylight. Peering up at the sky, she fanned a hand over her eyes as searched for any indication of what time of day it was.

"Quinn," Mouse squeaked, tapping her shoulder. "W-we're here."

And as she turned back to view their destination, Quinn suddenly remembered that she was indeed still very small and that houses were indeed still very big.

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