I love this crazy writing style~ Even if it is completely unorthodox. |D""
I'd offer explanations, but I really don't know what this is. :D So sit back, enjoy the crazy.
Rabbit Heart [♂] .&&. Doctor Casey Anslem [♂]
------
-------
------
{The looking glass, so shiny and new;
How quickly the glamor fades.
I start spinning slipping out of time,
Was that the wrong pill to take?
{Raise it up!}
You made a deal and now,
It seems you have to offer up,
But will it ever be enough?}
"Rabbit Heart"- Florence and the Machine
------
-------
Feet hit the pavement, running, running, but where will you run to?
Your breath shakes and you cough on the frozen air, but you don't dare slow down, oh no. Even as your vision wavers and pupils dilate, you stumble towards the lights dancing wildly in the distance. You're closer than it seems, but it feels like an eternity- the ground expanding and stretching between you and the lights like molten taffy, tapers at the center and so close to snapping apart;
You trip over something unimportant, insignificant, {A body in the snow, a man, you break his frozen fingers} and the Earth rises to great you.
Rolling over, you heave in breaths of snowflakes that you cannot feel, lips white and eyes glassy, staring at the heavens; the moon smiles {like the cat, the cat, the cat-} and opens its jaws to swallow you into unconsciousness.
-------
Reality is hesitant to return to you {did you know?}, it's had some bad times there. But when you open your hazy eyes and see an I.V. is in your arm, you don't particularly thank it for its bravery- you rip the needle out, shaking. The clear liquid spurts onto the floor instead.
"Not very nice to waste it like that."
A voice says, and you're so delirious that you start to laugh. The voice, a doctor, a man in a labcoat, wielding a clipboard and pen and staring at you with some look on his face {you can't tell what it is, you could never tell what it is, you're too different different different now. Always.}.
Some part of your brain tells you that he has an British accent, is from Cardiff, is 5'9" and fairly thin, not eating well, has tried to propose to his girlfriend in the past week and got rejected, lives alone, has two rabbits and is human. So human.
You mentally flip that part of your brain the bird.
"It is, isn't it." It's not a question, it doesn't have to be. But you're not even supposed to be alive right now, and you've already cheated Death- what's a few more lessons in impoliteness? It's your innocence that got you into this anyway. {You naïve child, you little rabbit, bluebird, blue jay, black crow and smile darling, it's your destiny. Embrace it.}
The doctor, the human, he smiles at you {politely, like he's used to dealing with madmen, perhaps he is perhaps he's one too} and pushes you back into the plastic-pillow cot. You don't protest when he ties the rubber band around your arm, and the cotton pad tingles when swiped against your vein, but the second the needle comes out you recoil, lash out with snarls and hisses and wild cat-eyes.
Your body shocks your brain back to humanity {what's left of it, and that isn't much, alicealicealice}, collapsing in on itself and pinning you down to the cot- you want to scream, you want to fight, but you're a traitor and won't behave.
Drifting away, you see the Doctor's face regarding your own with such kind eyes- the image stays in your mind's eye, as does the touch of rubber-gloved fingers along your forehead.
{Alicealicealice}
-------
Property of Doctor Casey Anslem, PhD;
----Personal Medical Log of Patient 546, Rabbit. July 15th, Day 3 post admission.
"I got him to tell me his name today; or, what he believes to be his name. He calls himself Rabbit. But when pressed for his surname and hometown, he went pale and elapsed into another episode. I still do not know where he comes from, nor do I know his story; I must admit that I'm very curious about him, but my duties as a medical professional come first.
His diagnoses is unclear; it seems that he was drugged, but the substance cannot be identified. Our testing equipment somehow shorted out when I finally managed to obtain some blood, costing us much more money than we have; it will be a month before the new equipment is is. In the meantime, I've shipped off a sample to our sister hospital- the results should be in within a week.
His other symptoms are extremely curious, namely his eyes. In all my years of practice, I've never seen cat-slitted pupils in a human being before. My first guess was that they were contacts, but when asked to remove them, he looked extremely confused. I assume it must be some kind of a disorder. I'll have Anderson look over him for me.
The hissing and snarling can most likely be contributed to the drug and its delirium- though if it doesn't clear up, further psychological examination will need to be attained. He's most likely amnesic, seeing as he can't remember his family or home, and keeps giving me strange dates when asked for his birth year.
We'll continue flushing the drugs out of his body and wait for the test results."
-------
{Run, run, Rabbit Heart;
You haven't got all night, you're late late late;
Perhaps you've lost {in the forest, down the hole, maybe it fell from your pocket} your way?}
{It's everywhere.}
Cold sweat along your brow drips into your open eyes- you're dreaming but you're not asleep, and how do the walls stay so clean? It's impossible to keep white pure.
Tainted.
The door to your... Right opens, a doctor, {the doctor, sweetheart sacrifice, the one from Cardiff.} steps into the room with a smile. You feel ill.
Before he can say a word you inquire a polite 'where am I?', and he stops dead in his tracks. Blinking at you {So human.}, a quick falter, he regains composure and answers "London. London England."
The Royalty has a sense of humor. You wave it off. "Have my... Have my test results come back yet?" You ask; it's a perfectly human question with a perfectly human answer- next week, he says, and asks if you're feeling any better today. You nod but avoid eye contact, fiddling with the oddly-textured blanket in your lap. {Sterile; oh, it's too clean in here. Too white too bright too pure.}
You and the doctor exchange a few polite words- inquires about your health and short, positive answers. Then another man steps in and you do a double take- he's tall and fat and bald with no neck and it's him, it's them, the brothers, the twins.
Except there's only one. You wonder which one it is, and why he's in a lab coat.
"Oh, Doctor Anderson, this is Rabbit, the patient I-" The doctor, your Doctor {and now you capitalize it, because he's suddenly become important in those few seconds} says, falling short when you try to scramble away. You claw and scratch and hiss and somehow end up under the table; the doctors look bemused and rather alarmed. As they should.
{So human.}
The twin{s, plural, why is there only one?}, "Anderson", still stands shock-still in the doorway, but your Doctor moves closer to your crouched form and warily extends a hand.
You decide to call him Lion Heart.
"Come on now, Rabbit, don't be startled; see, he's a nice man. He's here to help you." Lion Heart says, and it's like he's talking to a child, or a troublesome pet. He's not too far off, you suppose. Still, you remain tense and wary, distrustful of the mirror-man behind your Lion. "I'll be right here if anything goes wrong, okay? I promise I won't leave."
That does it, and you take his hand, resting on a thin thread of hope and the odds are against you. But there doesn't seem to be much of an alternative.
So you let yourself be examined by this merry {Scottish, middle-aged, happily married with two children and where is the other one?} version of your prosecutor, who laughs when the shock wears off and says "lad, you're just like my daughter's little kitten!", and you smile sickly and repress any shivers from showing.
-------
Property of Doctor Casey Anslem, PhD;
----Personal Medical Log of Patient 546, Rabbit. July 15th, Day 9 post admission.
"We've moved Rabbit to a long-term wing, seeing as it looks like he'll be here for a while. No word had been said on how he's affording this, by the way. It's most unusual.
His test results never came in- the equipment at our sister hospital burnt out as well, just the same as ours. Which has started a massive recall on blood-work equipment.
They managed to get a bit of information back, but what they did find made absolutely no sense. It's link nothing we've ever seen before- not in people, at least. The composition is similar to that of a large puma's mixed with the DNA structure of a primitive man. We're assuming this is some kind of glitch in the system; looks like we'll just have to wait.
He seemed more coherent today, but the delirium is still very much there. I hope it will fully clear up, and things look to be on my side. He only had one small episode today, and that was with Anderson- I think the sight of another person spooked him a bit, and he seemed tense throughout the entire examination. Speaking of Anderson, he seemed very perplexed by Rabbit's eyes, and took some snapshots to further study later. Nothing abnormal could be seen aside from the shape of the pupil- they work just like a cat's, too, retracting sideways and reflecting in the dark. It's a medical marvel, I'd say.
More to come soon, we'll be running some tests with the equipment we still have, and maybe calling in a few of the more experienced Professors; I'm sure they'd love a good mystery."
-------
{Rabbit Heart, Lion Heart,
He'll eat you alive but it won't be cannibalism.}
You can't run forever, alicealicealice.
