Rabbit Liddell // District 6 // FIN

Rabbit woke with a start. It was night time, the lights were out and everything seemed perfectly normal; everyone was asleep and it was quiet but as the young teen listened to the quiet she realized that this absence of sound was not right. Even though it was safe beneath the fresh cotton sheets she slept under, every breath of air filled Rabbit with an overwhelming sense of dread- causing her lungs to exhale shakey breaths- as if something terrible were about to happen. Her dainty fingers gripped the sheets tightly, fearful to leave the safety of her bed and venture into the darkness. She felt like a child again, afraid to leave the bed for the monsters that lived under it would gobble her up when her feet touched the floor.

She remembered when she was around 4 years old, there had been a storm and something had tapped against her window. With a gasp she had scrunched her eyes as tightly as she could, determined to not look at what was trying to break into her room. Her little hands grasped at the covers and pulled them over her head so that she would be protected; everyone knew that blankets had magical properties, Rabbit wasn't sure how but they did. The girl whimpered as the something screamed loudly outside her window and continued to rattle the window so loudly that she thought it would fall off.

There had been a crackle of lightning, and her whole room had lit up casting a horrible shadow across the room. Rabbit had been stupid enough to peak, and when she saw the twisted darkness against the light background of the flash she screamed loudly; pulling the covers over her head again. The flashing subsided, leaving room for the sounds of footsteps hurrying towards her bedroom door to be heard. As the thunder rumbled over head, the door opened letting light from the hallway flood into the room. There had stood her worried, blearily eyed father dressed in his navy blue night gown.

"Rabbit..what ever is the matter?" he'd asked as he sat down on the edge of his daughters bed.

Monsters weren't real, her father would tell her every time he tucked her back into bed. Being a clever man, a Doctor, Rabbit believed him eventually but still somewhere deep down she believed in those shadow like monsters that would eat children for breakfast lunch and dinner. Those secret fears had left Rabbit wetting the bed for some time, until she was 8, before she managed to persuade herself there was no such thing. Now 17, she wondered if she still believed in such childish things? If all those antics as a child, running to mother and fathers bedroom had been for naught. Of course they had been silly she thought to herself, closing her eyes There is no such thing as monsters.

Then she heard what sounded like a muffled scream. Rabbit sat straight up, clinging to the covers as if they were a shield, and stared intently at the white wooden door. Her heart was fluttering now, like a butterfly stuck inside a mason jar. She hoped she had imagined the scream- it had been muffled so maybe it was just a dream or her tired mind playing tricks on her; but as the teenager listened to the shadowy silence, it became apparent that it was not silent at all. There were people moving about downstairs. Her palms suddenly felt clammy and the sense of dangers was almost too much for the girl to handle as the noises seemed to get louder the longer she stayed still.

Brushing a strand of golden blonde hair from her face, the teenager slowly slipped out of her bed. The carpet felt cold beneath her feet as she crossed her bedroom. It was summer so the fire must not have been lit by Reagan (the housekeeper) before she left the house; mother insisted they did not need a fire during the summer but Mother was getting old and she forgot that summer eves can be just as cold and icy as winter ones. Tonight seemed to be unforgiving as frosty breaths began to form on the air as the girl took deep breaths.

The door opened silently as she looked out onto the landing. There was no monsters hiding in the shadows here, everything was normal. The window at the far end of the corridor was slightly ajar, letting in a breeze which made Rabbit's skin become lumpy. No wonder it is so cold she thought to herself, walking on the balls of her feet to close the window. She stopped, only about a foot away from the flapping curtains because she had seen something that was wrong out the corner of her eye. There was something wrong with the front door. Every night, her father would lock it tightly before dinner; that is how it happened every night at 7 o'clock. But now the oak door hung sadly on its hinges, rattling slightly in the breeze.

Rabbit was an inquisitive girl, and so she carefully treaded towards the top of the stairs, past photos of her family and herself when she was younger. There was an image of her from her first ever photo day at school- with her short cropped hair that she had done herself during class one afternoon because she had wanted to be like her mama who wore her hair in a nice neat rounded bob. Rabbit still remembers how she had sat outside in the corridor for the rest of the day after she'd taken the scissors to her own locks, leaving the strands on her desk as evidence. Her mother had not been mad thank god, in fact she had shouted at her teacher for keeping her outside in the corridor all day when she should have been learning.

Truth be told, Rabbit was not as clever as her mother and father. Her parents always encouraged her to do her best- even though they wanted her to try even harder than her best, to be at the top of the class- and Rabbits best was at most a C+. It was not that she did not enjoy school, she loved it and she loved learning but there were a lot of things that Rabbit's brain did not understand; like maths and spelling and reading. Her father had give her tutoring, since the teachers just dismissed her as a ditsy bimbo, to increase her grades and her chances of getting a good career like himself and his wife. It was hard, because Rabbit couldn't do the basics but she scraped through every year and never had to be held back because she always tried hard.

Half way down the stairs, Rabbit froze in fear. A scene was unfolding that she wished she had not seen. Her mother, with her rounded blonde bob, and her father, dressed in his navy blue dressing gown, were knelt on the floor near the fireplace. Three men were there- two had guns- but Rabbit did not recognized them. They were scruffy, dirty and wore rags for clothes; they might have been from the slums of 6 but judging by their odd accents when the talked in hushed whispers, Rabbit decided that they were wanderers that had breached the fence and come into their house to steal things. The three men were quiet for a bit- perhaps they were about to leave, Rabbit thought- and her father glanced up at where the skinny blonde female stood on the stairs.

That's when the two men with the guns raised them to her parents heads and pulled the trigger. She couldn't help it, Rabbit let out a scream as she watched blood spill all over the walls and floor of the living room, her parents bodies lay bloody and mangled. She only realized too late that the men had not known she was there. The men turned and looked at Rabbit.



"Miss..." spoke a nervous voice "Are you alright?"

Rabbit did not answer. Rabbit was no longer there, she was locked in a cage and now only the empty shell of Rabbit remained. The attack at the Liddell house had occurred 3 days ago, both Mr and Mrs Liddell had been found and declared dead whilst Rabbit was no where to be found so was put on the missing persons list. Even Rabbit didn't know what had happened after the triggers had been pulled, the gun noise had been so loud. She could still hear it echoing inside her skull, the images of her parents heads being blown apart as the bullet passed through them replayed when she closed her eyes. Images of being dragged from the house, men, blood, pain, screams...her screams...they were all replaying over and over and over when she closed her eyes.

So Rabbit just stared, unblinking at the woman. The girl had not yet realized that she had no clothes on; that her pasty white body was exposed to the elements, that everyone could see herself. Though her skin was not quite as perfect and clean as it had been before the absence of time, patchworks of purple bruises laced her skin and cuts stitched their way across her arms, legs, chest and stomach. Rabbit did not know where they had come from but they must have come from the men. Thats the last thing she really remembers, the men turning to her when she alerted them with her cry of fear.

The next thing she had known was this woman talking to her, asking her if she were alright but Rabbit did not know nor could she find the energy to process the words to respond. No is what she wanted to say but her parched lips only whimpered when she opened them to try form the two letters- the one word- that was pressed against her lips. Two peacekeepers were approaching now, no weapons raised though, and that's when Rabbit felt a tear roll down her cheek. Confused, she pressed her fingers to her face before drawing it away to take a look. Her hands were stained with mud and blood, dried now but still smelt fresh; she wondered if the blood was hers or her parents. The peacekeepers covered her up with a blanket then escorted her away. She did not struggle, she went with them peacefully because Rabbit was not home and the guards were only really leading a bag of bones and skin to their head quarters.

After several days of unsuccessful interviews to try get to the bottom of the Liddell case, Rabbit was transported to the Hospital. It has been 2 months and Rabbit enjoy's it there, though she does not do much other than stare longingly into space as if she were looking for the words she never says. Someone brushes her hair every morning, feeds her oatmeal, gives her a bath (which seems to stimulate happiness) and then gets her dressed before wheeling her to her favourite spot which looks out over the gardens. Rabbit does not like to go outside but it seems she is happy toe observe it through the large windows in the recreational area as long as the other children do not make a ruckus.

Help me...let me out..Mama Papa.... Rabbit's self shouts from deep with in the prison of her mind I'm scared. Another tear runs down her cheek as she stares out the window into the lush green gardens below.