Do you remember the forest? Running through the forest holding me in your arms, taking me to my unknown destination. In that moment, I felt a sense of calm. It may have been the medicine, but I think that it was exhilaration from waking up to feel your arms under me. They were muscular, strong...unexpected.
We ran fast. Well, you did. I was still in my unconscious daze, trying to figure out where I was. I remember calling out to my sister, but you shushed me. I nuzzled into the fur on your chest for a moment, and then experienced one of those great epiphanies in which one realizes what is going on in a most sudden manner. I remembered that you, you beast, had pushed me into a hole, drugged me, and now were probably kidnapping me. I pushed away as hard as I could, gasping as I felt the pain in my arms moving after being asleep for quite some time. You just kept running. Passing the flowers, the trees, and the supposed animals that lurked behind those trees. You just went and went and went. As we ran through the forest, we came upon a clearing with two stumps for stools. In my delusional state I wondered if we were to have tea or a nice chat, but I knew that was foolish. You kept looking at that pocket watch of yours, always mumbling something or other about being late. The reason for hurry was still kept from me. You sat me down roughly on one of the stumps and turned around. As you walked away, I saw a faint bit of color in your fur. Paint? That couldn't be it, paint has a distinct quality...it was a light, coagulated substance...maybe, no it wasn't...yes, it was...blood. I checked my body for any signs of scratches but I found none. If the blood wasn't mine, then whose was it? It wasn't from your body; there was no cut.
I felt a sinking in my stomach as I began to wonder if someday the spot on your fur would be mine. A dark red pool of me stuck to your despicable being, a souvenir of me, and the horrible things you would have done. I felt sick. I wanted to leave; I tried to stand but was immediately pulled back down to sitting by four chubby hands on my shoulders. I turned to see their owner and found a set of twin boys looking at me. They looked normal enough; maybe they could help me. Then I saw the mark that made them a perfect fit for this demented world. On their stomachs, in black thread were the names sewed into their skin. The needle wounds festered with open sores that were crusted in blood. As the boys moved, the thread stretched and you could see the pain as it pulled at their skin. Now that I looked, their eyes seemed rather glazed over. I saw string in their hands, no, coming out of their hands.
They were puppets.
They were sick humanoid toys to some horrible being that I knew not of. I pulled away from the boys and the "Tweedle-Dee" and "Tweedle-Dum" emblazoned into their skin. They advanced towards me, seemingly dragged by their controlling force. They lunged and leaped at me, trying to grab me, but I would not let them. I ran. I could hear the sliding footsteps of the twins behind me, followed by some other footsteps, presumably of my furry captor. I didn't have any clue as to where I was going or what lay ahead, but I was absolutely certain that I had to get away from the lot of them. I was in trouble. I ran as if it were to save my life, and it probably was.
When I felt as if my legs were pudding and my chest was made of granite, I stopped. I turned, hid behind the nearest tree, and waited. I listened to the sounds of this world and searched for any sign of my three opponents. They weren't there.