Chapter 3
The Jub Jub Bird
"How strange," I murmured to myself as I examined a white rose dripping in red paint. "Why not just plant red roses?"
The topsy-turvy parlour had nothing on this garden.
There were plants of every colour and shape imaginable.
There were some that even talked
I had walked by a group of gossiping daisies.
The path I was on, lead out of the faerie tale garden from hell.
"Coo"
"Coo"
I jerked my head around and found what looked like a fluffy black bird.
Cute.
"Hey little guy," I knelt down beside it.
"What, are you doing here?"
I reached out to pet it.
The small bird opened its beak to reveal several rows of razor sharp teeth.
It didn't look so cute anymore.
In fact, come to think of it, I didn't see why it was so cute in the first place.
I was reminded of an ugly harpy.
I turned on my heel and I ran,
I ran till my veins pumped battery acid,
Till my lungs were on the brink of bursting
Till the hem of my tissue dress dissolved.
And then,
I ran some more.
I ran until the world started playing tricks on me.
Falling
Falling
"Ah, Hell." I muttered, staring at the rock by my feet.
Of course I would have klutz attack in the middle of running for my life.
I picked up the offending rock and held it for a while.
If there was one thing I excelled at in my childhood it was pitching.
My father used to brag about how there was nothing I couldn't hit.
That was
Until he got married. Then we grew distant and he started treating Sue's word as law, when most the time her word didn't even make sense.
I adjusted the stone in my hand waiting for the daemon bird to approach.
I closed my eyes and threw the stone as hard as I could
Praying it would be enough to save me.
I opened up my eyes when I heard a sickening crack.
The bird's body was not ten feet from me.
I didn't need to get closer to it to know I killed it.
I started off again with sigh.
I walked farther away from the garden and deeper and deeper into a peculiar wood.
I passed by more talking plants (apple trees).
And I could have sworn I saw butterflies made of toast.
This dream just kept getting stranger and stranger.
Maybe when I woke up I could be committed.
That would be an effective way to avoid being Mrs. Mike Newton.
At the end of the path, there was a small homey looking cottage.
Aside from looking like something out of a faerie tale, the cottage looked surprisingly unremarkable.
I pushed open the gate to find a large table litter with tea sets of all different sizes and materials.
The chairs were all mismatched.
I found and overstuffed arm chair near the head of the table and sat down.
The seat felt amazingly comfortable and it was several minutes before I reached for a full tea cup in front of me.
The tea was amazing. Probably the best cup I'd ever had.
Another sip.
Definitely the best tea in the world.
I moaned in satisfaction when I finished.
It felt like my mouth had an orgasm from the experience.
After a second cup my eyelids started to droop.
I figured it wouldn't hurt to rest here a few minutes.
I sank back in to the chair.
Strong arms wrapping around me and green eyes were the last things I registered before drifting off to sleep.
(Hides behind chair)
Alright, I lied Please don't kill me.
It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.
On the bright side you did get a brief glimpse of our hatter.
Should I make the next chapter an Epov, or a Bpov?