Where the Cheshire hides

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Through shortcuts I discovered, the Amusement Park turned out to be the closest to the queen's castle. I started to notice that it was becoming the first place I went to whenever the queen batted me away.

My butt goes numb the longer I sit on this park bench. I get up to stretch my legs when I hear a loud thud behind me. Gingerly, I look behind the bench to find a bloody cat. 

"Where have you been?" I ask Boris.

"Heh, snuck into the Castle of Hearts again." He gives me a wide grin.

"Looks like the guards messed you up," I rest my chin in my palm.

"No more than usual." He staggers to his feet.

I look up at the sky. Of course, the time would be changing now. I look at Boris and sigh. No big deal. It's not like I won't have another chance with the queen. I climb over the bench and become Boris' crutch.

"Hey, your clothes are going to get dirty," he objects.

"You think I don't know that?!" I snap. "Let's just hurry up while you can still walk."

"Don't take me to Julius or Gowland," he says. "They always complain about blood on their carpets. I have a hideout, so I'll tell you where that is."

"Why?" I ask snippily. "It's a hideout, why would you tell me?"

"I wonder about that too, Sally..."

"It's Charlie today," I hiss. 

"Oh, right. Sorry," he smiles at me tiredly. "But Cathy, I don't think you'd tell anybody."

I pause, "Well, you're not wrong. Who would I tell?"

He closes his eyes, leaning heavily on my shoulder. "I know you wouldn't."

My brow creased. 

Why is everyone so weird?

I glance at him, half dead on my shoulder. I sigh in exasperation. "You know," I utter. "For a thin dude, you sure are heavy."

He laughs, "Sorry."


"Ah, here's good," Boris stops me before I take another step. His blood is warm as it soaks into my clothes. I can feel my shirt cling to my skin, and I shiver. I look around. The scenery has just been foliage all over. Where we stopped is no different.

"Here is not good," I set him down. "You probably lost too much blood and are seeing things." I slip off my jacket and try to clot the blood. 

"No, it is here," he whispers as I press my jacket to his gash. 

"Come on. Let's go to Julius or Gowland. Who cares about their carpet?" It was then I realized he was clawing at the ground.

"It's here somewhere," he mutters. 

I stare at him as he continues searching. "Stop it, you idiot." I grab his wrists, "I'll find it." I grumble, "I don't even know what I'm looking for." My fingers run over the grass fruitlessly. "I'm telling you, there's nothing--" Something cold and hard grazes my palm. I look up in surprise.

Boris grins, "There it is."


It turned out to be some silver knob that opened a tree and a shoot inside the tree. Boris prances forward into the tube, sliding down at lightning speed. I walk tentatively forward, looking deep into the slide. 

"Hey, are you still alive?" I yell. My echo answers me. I straighten my position. "Huh, I guess he's dead," I sigh regretfully. I turn my back on the tree and try to head back when something grasps me by the shoulders and pulls me backward down the slide. At the speed I was going at, I feared I was going to crash into a wall and split my head. 

I open my eyes to see who pulled me, but there was no one except myself. I pop out at the end of the shoot, somehow hovering over the ground, as if a person was holding me. 

"Sorry I was late to get you," Boris says. "I thought you were right behind me." He vaporizes into sight. 

I gasp, nearing peeing my pants. "You're a natural-born creeper!" I smack him.

"Hey! I'm injured!" he reminds, dropping me. "And is that anyway to treat a patient?"

"You look fine." 

"Thank you," he grins.

"Not like that you idiot!" I stamp my foot, "Why'd you pull me down here if you can heal yourself?"

"There's places I can't reach," he complains. "I need help once in a while too." He exposes his stomach suddenly to show me the long rip in his skin. 

We stare at each other in a deadlock. My eyes start to shift uncomfortably as I bite the inside of my cheek. "What?" I demand finally.

"Sorry, I was kind of hoping you would help me with this hole in my stomach!" he remarks cynically.

"...Oh, you mean now?"

"No, let's wait till I bleed to death!"

"Calm down, I got it." I seat him in a nearby chair. I search around his lair that suspiciously resembles the den of the Lost Boys from Peter Pan. "Where's that medicine that you're supposed to use for cuts?" 

"In the kitchen drawer!" he replies. 

I gaze at the maybe two-hundred slots. "Care to elaborate?" I grumble. Rummaging through the first drawer, I gave up. "I can't find it!"

Boris limps over, grabs the medicine from the next drawer over and hands it to me.

"Oh, thanks," I laugh, embarrassed. 

He gives me a troubled look before sitting back down. I sit next to him, pull off his shirt, and slather the medicine on him in clumps.

"You suck at this," he complains. 

"Be grateful I'm not shoving this up your ass, you baby," I mutter angrily. "Hey, where's the bandages?"

"Beats me."

I narrow my eyes. Grabbing my blood-covered blazer, I struggle to rip it into strips. After a lot of struggling with no results, I gave up on that task too. 

"You're nothing like Alice," Boris comments. "When she treated me, she knew what to do. 

Pursing my lips, I rip his thin bed cover from his mattress and shred it.

"Hey! What are you doing?!"

My unsatisfied glare silences him. "Why did you bring me here if you could do half this stuff yourself?" I demand, deliberately tying the bandages too tight. 

"You looked really bored," he winces as I secure a double knot. 

I glance at him in surprise. He smiles, vaporizing. He reappears near his closet and pulls on another shirt. 

"What were you doing anyway?" I ask.

"Just sneaking around," he lies down on his mattress. "The queen doesn't fancy trespassers much."

"You do this a lot?"

"Yea, I go where I please." The fun in his tone disappears, replaced with tentative quietness. 

I open my eyes slightly, leaning back in my chair. "My only advice is to stop getting caught." I stare at him steadily, "You'll end up looking like shit again."

He eyes me with interest. "You won't tell me to stop what I'm doing? You won't preach to me about life?"

"Do I look like your mother?!" I bark. I fall back in my chair and sigh. "But it's not like it's not important. You at least have to stay alive to keep doing the things you like."

Boris' stunned expression morphed into a smile, but somehow, it was different from before. 

"I didn't really say anything that interesting," I say in an attempt to wipe away his sentimental smile. "Well, seems like it's getting late." I stretch. 

"I'll take you back. I owe you one."

"No, you can sit your ass down," I push him back on his cot. "Just teach me how to use a gun."



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⏰ Last updated: Dec 31, 2015 ⏰

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