White Rabbit

Prologue

In the corner of an empty room, dark and cold, there is something soft and fluffy, something that remembers only one memory. There lies a white rabbit in red clothes that are crossed with thin streaks of black plaid, small handcuffs with a golden lining, and a collar for a gentleman's finest ware. Small black pants that just the right size for the rabbit, blending in with the cover of the abyss, the rabbit stays partially hidden. His ears are much too large for his small head, lightly dabbed with pink on the inside of his ears and a long round bit on the bottom of his feet. In the poor rabbit's tiny arms is a golden and gleaming pocket watch, one that seems to be trying to put light to the darkness of the corner, but can only provide a reminder of the memory that the stuffed rabbit holds dear. Although it is much too big of a pocket watch for the small rabbit, while the pocket watch stays both in hands and on lap, the rabbit's little hands clutch onto the golden treasure like a jewel to its ring. 

A memory that is held so dear, one of a far past that cannot even hope to be reached again, has been filled to the rabbit's head. The last piece of light, fragment of hope and happiness, sliver of what once was ordinary days, has been wound again in the rabbit's lonely heart. There is a distant saying that tells that when a rabbit gets lonely, it starts to disappear, fading away in a quiet solitude, and dies with no hope left. This lost rabbit has neither been abandoned, nor left on its own accord, but is lost and has not been found. Somewhere, in the small heart that is in the rabbit, there is hope that the owner of the rabbit will find him, in the cold corner of the room, sometime in a distant and unlikely future. Only that lone hope has kept the lonely rabbit alive. However, if the rabbit loses that last slice of hope that remains, then the world that was sought after and explored with him and his owner, the adventure they had, and the promise made at the end of the journey, will fade alongside the rabbit. To the owner it will become just a pleasant dream, a spell cast upon a midsummer's day. 

The only memory that the rabbit holds onto all began with a small little girl, no older than eleven, that went into the dusty attic of the new house she would be living in. In her bright blue dress, frills around the white apron, she spotted a little white, stuffed rabbit in strange human clothes, holding onto a long golden chain that led a long ways around the attic. At the end of the chain was a very dusty, yet pleasant looking pocket watch that shined like the golden light of a lighthouse. The small blond haired girl with a black bow on her head and genuine green eyes couldn't help but feel curious at the sight. And so began a memory of an adventure to a nearby world.

So, what do you think? Continue this?