Chapter 26

Down The Rabbit Hole

Rated: T

Warnings: Violence, Language

Disclaimer: I don't own, you don't sue.

Theme song for chapter: "My Immortal" By Evanescence.

A/N: 6 Chapters now. c:

I went to the door, opening it up and looking at the inky blackness that stretched out in front of me. I took a deep breath and stepped through. Well, started to anyway. Where there was supposed to be solid ground, their was nothing and I fell forward before I could pull myself back.

I screamed, my hair thrashing wildly around my face as I plummeted downwards. You know those falling dreams? Yeah, they really don't do falling justice. Your stomach feels as if it's forcing itself up into your throat, excuse the expression, and spilling it's contents everywhere so you feel like you're going to puke but you can't because you're mouth is so numb. Pure, unadulterated fear shoots through you, sharpening your thoughts and your senses, so that you can feel every single terrifying second slip by unavoidably. But, the things that you feel in the present, the fear that you experience by those sensations are nothing compared to the thoughts of what will happen when you hit the ground.

I felt my arm snap as I collided with the ground, and I screamed in pain. At the time, I didn't realize that by the height of the fall and the hard marble fall, I should have been much more injured. My whole left side that I landed on should have been shattered.

The entire left side of my body was in pain from where I landed, but my arm demanded most of my attention. I'd landed on it in a way that it had snapped, or something. I couldn't be sure if it was broken, sprained or simply just hurting. I'd guess it was broken from the way I was screaming and the way it hung.

I lay there for a few minutes, screaming bloody murder, trying to get a hold of myself so that I could examine the injury.

I carefully lifted myself into a sitting position with my right arm, and looked at my left one. It seemed to be in the right place, no dislocations, but it was a bloody mess. There was a gash running from my elbow to about half-way up my forearm. I breathed in gasps, trying to figure out what to do next.

I pulled off my long sleeved shirt, luckily having a short sleeved one underneath for added warmth. With effort, I ripped a piece of fabric off the shirt and wrapped it around my arm, trying to stanch the bleeding, wincing. I didn't really know if this would help, but I had seen it on countless TV shows and movies before, so I figured it would. My arm felt tender and I couldn't move it without a sharp slash of agony shooting up my arm, but I managed to pull my jacket over myself again somehow.

I slowly came to realization about where I was. I was in a hospital. Fucking great. All this stuff around me made for treating wounds, and I couldn't even use any of it. I carefully picked myself up off the ground, knowing I had to keep moving despite the pain, wincing as I did so.

I heard voices from one of the rooms, and slipped through the door which was slightly open.

Mr. Wonka- Willy, was sitting on a chair, holding his arm out as the doctor wrapped a bandage around it. I didn't really know what to call him. Mr. Wonka was a name for an old man, but Willy seemed too… weird, I guess. I would have been more comfortable just saying Ronald.

"A terrible accident, it was." A skinny man with a high, sniveling voice proclaimed dramatically. I recognized him as the man from the train station. "Poor Willy fell down the cellar steps and hurt his wee arm."

I instantly distrusted him.

The doctor nodded patiently, and looked at him. "I trust you will take care not to let accidents like these happen again." He said, giving him a deliberate look.

Willy said nothing, and watched the doctor wrap the bandage around his arm. His skin had grown somewhat paler, drained and the area around his eyes were dark, since the last time I had seen him. His expression was indifferent, as always, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. On something better, more important than the present.

The doctor suddenly dissipated into thin air, like a trail of mist blown away by the wind. The clean, sanitized chair Willy was sitting on disappeared and it was replaced with a dilapidated wooden chair. The whole room vanished in a haze, and was replaced with a small, dark room without any windows. It was crammed with wooden boxes and canvas sacks. The man with the sniveling voice struck him suddenly, violently on the face. Willy's head turned at the force but he did not say anything. His expression remained uninterested.

"Whatever's the matter, young Willy? Am I too far beneath you notice?" He sneered, revealing yellowing teeth.

Willy moved his head slightly down, his metal braces clinking slightly as he did so. I couldn't tell if he was nodding or merely acknowledging the man's statement, until he answered.

"Yes, sir." He said quietly.

The man's already bulbous eyes widened in rage and he lurched forward, stopping his face only inches from Willy's, as if he was preventing himself from committing unspeakable acts of violence.

"What's that?" He answered, making an obvious effort to sound calm.

Willy lowered his eyes to the man's for a second, but looked away after a while, with passive eyes.

"Yes, sir." He repeated.

The man raised a hand and caught him on the cheekbone. Tears welled in my eyes, in sympathy for him. I wished desperately I could do something, anything, but I couldn't. I was just there, and nothing more. A ghost, if that.

Willy fell off the chair and onto the ground. The man thrust a kick into his abdomen, and Willy curled up on the ground. I sobbed and rushed forward, closing my hand around the mans fist as he raised it to strike. I gasped as his fist came into my hand solidly, without going through. The man frowned in confusion, and Willy peeked out of one eye to see what the delay was. The man shook his head, and sent his fist hurtling through my hand again. I gasped and pulled my hand back from the vacuity.

His hand crushed against the side of his forehead, but he still didn't cry out.

The man took a few steps back, breathing heavily still, and picked up the chair, throwing it on top of the boy. He winced as it caught him on his arm.

A door creaked open and a young boy poked his head through.

"Papa, there's a customer." He announced.

The man exhaled heavily, shoved another kick onto Willy's leg, and stormed off. The door shut behind him.

Willy got up, picked up the chair and put it back in it's place. He sat on the chair once again. A tear fell down his cheek, but his expression remained unchanged.

I looked back at the door and saw it was marked with the number '5'. I looked back at the young boy, injured and sallow as he was, not wanting to leave him in this state. But I knew that I couldn't do anything, and this was in the past. I stood in front of him, and extended my hand. I placed it on his face as I had done before, being careful not to let my hand fall through, and wiped away the tear.

He frowned to himself, but did not move his face, feeling the pressure of my hand.

I leaned forward. "It's okay." I whispered in his ear. I saw his eyes widen, and I think he heard me.

I limped to the door, and with a regretful glance back, opened it.