The Boy and The Rabbit Hole, Chapter Three

The boy was confused. The ticket had been right on top of his small collection of receipts; just last night he had double checked before he went to sleep (which probably caused that nightmare of a dream). He rustled through all the small slips of paper, just to check and make sure it hadn't slipped down anywhere. Again he found nothing. He opened the money flap and only found a few solitary one dollar bills. No ticket.

"Sir, please step away from the desk. You're wasting my time" the turtle woman snapped at him. "You don't have any record of a ticket. Maybe it was just a warning."

The boy nodded, then slowly turned away from the desk and exited the building. He was not one to argue about a two hundred dollar ticket that apparently didn't exist, but he knew exactly what had happened. He had hardly slept for two days because of the stress and fear of his parents finding out. For something that serious, what was going on right then just seemed...off.

With that thought, the boy suddenly flashed back twelve hours to the letter. Tomorrow, go and talk to your teacher about the overdue homework and try and explain yourself. If something seems off, then flip this page over. Until then, DO NOT KEEP READING.
This was the epitome of something being "off."

The boy quickly got back in his car and drove towards the woods, silently dreading what was awaiting him.

*********

For only being there once before, and finding the hole when it was close to dark, the boy was surprised by how quickly he found the hole again. It looked exactly as he had left it the day before, and could make out the crumpled letter stuffed in the roots, right where he had left it. As he approached, he found himself thinking about Anthony. The boy was tired of Anthony winding up in his thoughts all the time. It was something that was foreign to him. Now, with the ticket, he didn't think it was going to be possible to forget.

Upon reaching the hole, the boy sighed, but he was confused. Why am I so concerned and nervous about something that is obviously a trick? However, as he bent down and grabbed the envelope, he couldn't help but think that it might not have been a trick at all. Still, trick or no trick, the boy wanted to read the rest of the letter. He opened the envelope, pulled out the wrinkled scrap of paper, and turned it over to discover that it was covered in small handwriting.

If you're reading this, then something happened. I bet whatever was causing you stress resolved itself, in some way. Now, it's time for me to explain the Rabbit Hole.

I'm not even sure what the actual name of this place is, but I dubbed it the Rabbit Hole, because whatever gets tossed into it seems to just vanish into Wonderland. It's a funny story how I discovered that strange ability.

During sophomore year, I found myself a little...over-extended. I was being pulled in so many different directions with school, and work, and hobbies, and parents, and all sorts of other things. One day I just finally cracked.

The boy stopped. Parents? Anthony was an orphan. He didn't have to worry about parents.

One day I just finally cracked. I needed to get away from it all for a little while. So, one weekend, I headed off into the woods not far from my house. These woods. As I walked, I had completely zoned out and soon discovered that I was in a section of the forest I had not been in before. I was unfortunate to figure this out because I found myself almost falling into a concealed hole by a tree. The Rabbit Hole.

Of course it didn't mean anything to me. It was just a stupid hole that I had almost fell down. So I kept walking. However, I somehow must have walked in a huge circle, because an hour later I was back at the hole. Not sure how it happened, but it did. At that point though, I was too tired to care that I might have been lost. So I just dropped to the ground and sat there.

I don't know how much time went by,  but it was getting dark when I finally realized that 1) I needed to get home and 2) my backpack was still on. Still, something about just sitting there away from all my problems sounded so...perfect. And that's exactly what I did. Well, sort of.

I figured that just sitting there wouldn't help anything. So, I pulled out a spiral and turned to a clean page. On that page I started listing all the things that had brought me up to this point. The first thing on the list? Too much school work. That was the brunt of my problems at the moment. But after writing that simple thing, I found myself just staring at the sheet. So, deciding that it was a stupid idea, I just ripped the sheet out, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the Hole. With that, I stood up, walked home, and collapsed. No homework, no dinner, not even saying hello to my parents. Completely wiped.

When I woke up in the morning, I didn't feel any different. If anything, my feet hurt from walking so much the night before. But I had almost completely forgotten about what had happened, and had DEFINITELY forgotten about the piece of paper. After realizing that I had, in fact, overslept, I grabbed my stuff and bolted to get to school.

Upon arriving to my first period, I remembered that I hadn't done my homework (honestly, not really a surprise). But, when the teacher came around to pick up the assignment, she just walked right past me. When I asked her about it, she told me that I had been excused from homework for her class. I laughed, telling her that I wasn't THAT lazy. She just kept on walking.

The same thing happened in the next class. And the following. By the end of the day, I was apparently no longer required to do any homework.

Needless to say, I was confused.

When I went home, I asked my parents if they knew anything about it, and they...

The boy again stopped reading. Seriously, what's up with the PARENT thing? ANTHONY WAS AN ORPHAN! Reluctantly, he continued.

When I went home, I asked my parents if they knew anything about it, and they said the strangest thing. "This isn't anything new Anthony. You've never had to do homework. You're teachers have said you don't need to." To this I laughed and went upstairs to show them the massive pile of unfinished (okay, who am I kidding, unSTARTED) homework.

There was nothing there.

So I left. I ran outside and into the forest. I needed to get away and clear my head. After running for a few minutes, I found myself, yet again, at the same freaking hole. The Rabbit Hole.

Suddenly, things started to click. It might have been from sleep deprivation, or too much stress, but it made sense to me that the Hole made things disappear. Then my interest grew. Just how much stuff could it make go away? Feeling my pockets, I found small scraps of paper and a pen that I had stowed there after class that day, and began scribbling. "College" got written, then thrown in. "Enemies" got written, then thrown in. "Traffic Tickets" got written, then thrown in.

And then I left, went home, apologized to my parents, and went to bed.

However, in the morning, nothing had changed. In fact, I had a message from the city saying that I still needed to pay my ticket. I didn't understand.

I went back that night with a single piece of paper. But before I could even begin writing, I saw that all three slips of paper sitting out in front of the Hole. It looked almost if the Hole had rejected them. I picked up the one that said "Traffic Tickets" and tossed that ONE paper in. I watched until it fluttered out of sight. Picking up the other two, I went home.

The next day, there was no record of a traffic ticket.

I went back after school and threw "College" down.

Every college I had applied to sent me a letter the next day saying I had been accepted with a full ride scholarship.

"Enemies" soon went down as well. This is where something went wrong.

When I went to school the next day, not worrying about homework, traffic tickets, or college, I noticed a distinct lack of

This was the end of the page, so the letter cut off there. It was obvious that this was not the end, so the boy looked in the envelope for the second sheet. He searched around the hole. He looked in the roots.

There was nothing there.

Oh well, he thought to himself, it can't have been THAT important. Let's take this time to get rid of some more stress.

So the boy, taking a leaf from Anthony's book, wrote "College" on a slip of paper and watched it fade into the darkness of the hole.

When he got home from school the next day, there were seven letters in his mailbox. Each one was from a different college that he had applied to. He smiled.

I'm pretty sure I just became the luckiest man alive.

********

Sorry for not posting in a while. A combination of writer's block/starting senior year has prevented easy access to my creative juices. Don't worry though, I'm gonna make sure that I keep up with this!

The Boy and The Rabbit Hole, Chapter Two

That night, the boy dreamed of Anthony Maxwell. His face was floating in the hole, and calling out to him. The boy could hear Anthony calling out to him, asking where his parents were. He tried to run, but was pulled over by a cop and given a two hundred dollar ticket because he was apparently running in the "WALK-ONLY" section of the forest. The boy began to cry and turned away from the cop, only to find himself staring back into the eyes of Anthony in the hole. Instead of asking for his parents, Anthony was now asking for the boy's stress, for the traffic ticket, for overdue homework. When the boy threw the ticket into the hole, Anthony caught it in his mouth and vanished, but his voice could still be heard, screaming out for his parents.

He woke in a cold sweat, crying out into the semi-darkness of his room. It was early, much earlier than he ever woke up on a Saturday, but he couldn't force himself to go back to sleep. He was afraid to see all of that again. So he just lay in his bed, his mind wandering between thoughts of holes, tickets, and parents. The boy didn't understand how something so pointless and disconnected from him could torment him so much. Anthony Maxwell wasn't even his friend, he was the school psychopath. It was just a confusing connection.

Even more confusing, if not stupid, was that letter from yesterday. Why would Anthony leave a letter like that? Or was it even Anthony? Maybe it was some disrespectful kid just trying to freak other people out by posing as a dead kid. The boy corrected himself, Anthony wasn't dead, he was MISSING. Though everyone assumed something had happened. Even as he thought that, the boy heard his mother's voice prancing across his head. "You know what they say. When you assume things, it makes an A-S-S out of U and M-E. A-S-S-U-M-E-." His mother still treated him like a five year old.

He was wandering again. He turned his attention back to the letter. The boy also realized that even though he considered the letter stupid, he wasn't exactly practicing good logic skills. What was stopping him from reading the back of that sheet? Absolutely nothing but a threat that had no way of being acted upon. It was pointless to not read the rest of the letter while he could. Knowing his luck, when he went back, the letter would have been blown out of it's hiding place is would be sitting at the bottom of that deep hole. For all he knew, everything that had happened the day before was imagined. The boy did have a very overactive imagination for an eighteen year old.

However, he decided that he wasn't going to let something as pointless as that letter ruin his Saturday. School had only been back in session for a week and he was already exhausted. He didn't want to spend his first day off fretting over that.

And that's exactly what he did. He tried to live his Saturday like a normal teenager, but couldn't help thinking of the hole, and the letter, and Anthony Maxwell. Every place he went, he somehow ended up drifting back. Oh look, a pet store. It probably has rabbits inside of it. Or maybe it went something like Oh look, a mom and dad with their new baby! Anthony never had that... It was terrible.

But then the boy remembered. The traffic ticket. If he went and paid the traffic ticket and disproved whatever the letter was talking about, then he could move on and forget all about it. He decided that he would go and pull the two hundred dollars out of his bank account (he had just gotten paid at his usual job and could easily cover up the loss), then go downtown and pay the ticket at the courthouse. It would be cut and dry, nothing too difficult. He could pass it off without telling his parents, even though it would show up on his driving record. The boy wasn't too worried about it. Other than the fact that it was still a two hundred dollar speeding ticket.

***********

The boy had always been intimidated by the courthouse. It was a huge building, but unlike most courthouses, looked like a prison. It was solid gray, with the only windows shining into the lobby. He remembered taking a field trip here once in fifth grade, and could remember feeling uncomfortable under the harsh fluorescent lights. Too cold and unfeeling for his taste. Yet here he was again, walking through the tall wooden doors and heading to the reception desk, with his wallet in hand. The woman working there had hair that matched the outside of the courthouse and was hunched over an ancient computer, squinting through her narrow glasses. He could barely make out her shoulders under an ugly green shawl that was draped across what looked like her entire body. The more she hunched over the keyboard, the more the boy thought she looked like a turtle, not a human. Judging by the speed at which she was typing, it was very possible the woman was in fact exactly what he was imagining her to be. He found himself laughing as he approached the desk and tapped the bell lightly.

The woman spun her head towards him and scowled. "Give me your name, address, and reason for an appointment" she almost growled out as she shot him a glance that screamed "I don't want to be here, get away from my desk." Oh she's a turtle all right. A snapping turtle.

The boy said his name and address, along with explaining his ticket. Halfway through his story, the woman held up a wrinkled finger to silence him. "Sir, you have no record of getting a ticket. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

The boy stopped her, explaining that he had been pulled over for going sixty miles per hour in a forty. He had gotten a ticket for two hundred dollars and was coming to pay it.

"Young man, there is nothing under your name or address pertaining to a recent unpaid traffic ticket. Unless you have a receipt, then get away from my desk."

Again, the boy prevented her from shooing him off. He told her that the receipt was in his wallet, and was met by an outstretched hand. He opened his wallet and unzipped the pocket where he kept receipts and the like.

The ticket wasn't there.



MAJOR THANKS TO AARON KOEHNE FOR HELPING ME BREAK MY BLOCK. I DEDICATE THIS STORY TO YOU!

The Boy and The Rabbit Hole, Chapter One

There once was a boy who lived on the fringe of some major city, in a comfortable house, with regular parents and a normal sibling. He had an average social life and a perfectly fine number of friends. He was, in all sense of the word, simple in almost everything he did. ALMOST everything.

He excelled in a few places. He was the brightest in his school. He was overly involved in his church and held a major national position in the Boy Scouts of America. To add on to that, he was a senior in high school, and beginning to face the biggest decision of his life: college. It was a avenue that would not be open to him without many hours of work, simply because his family was relying on him to get a NUMBER of scholarships to afford college.

Needless to say, he was under a lot of pressure.

However, one day, while walking though a small forest near his house, the boy stumbled across something he had never seen before. It was a hole, hidden between the roots of a crooked tree. The hole wasn't small by any means; he could easily fit himself inside the opening. He figured it was some kind of animal, like a badger or family of rabbits. Whatever it was, it was deep. The sun was almost directly overhead, shining straight into the hole, and he couldn't see the bottom. The boy reached his hand as far in as his arm would allow, to see if the tunnel turned or got narrow, but it just seemed to go on forever. Already getting bored, he retracted his arm, but not before brushing up on what felt like a sheet of paper stuffed in the roots at the opening. The boy grabbed the corner and dislodged it, discovering a small envelope with the words To Whom it May Concern scrawled in sloppy handwriting on the front. By the look of the envelope, it had been there for quite some time. No doubt the person it was meant for never found it in the roots. Becoming intrigued, he opened it.

Inside he found two sheets of paper folded neatly, a small slip of paper, and a pen. The boy pulled the sheets apart to see both sides of each sheet covered in the same sloppy writing envelope from the envelope. He began to turn back to the front, then changed his mind. Wanting to see who wrote it, the boy flipped to the back of the second page and his eyes jumped to the bottom.

Be cautious,
Anthony Maxwell

The boy gasped and dropped the page in shock, not even noticing that the dropped page was falling deeper and deeper into the hole, until it was completely out of sight.

Anthony Maxwell was a former student at the school that the boy attended. However, Anthony had something wrong with him. He was an orphan, but always rambled about his parents, saying they were just going to come back. His grades were horrendous, always had been, and he seemed none too interested in improving them. Honestly, he seemed to have no interest in improving ANYTHING in the world, and claimed he wouldn't until his parents came back.

Then he just vanished one day. No one knew where he went. The search began, but was declared cold a year later when no headway was made. Soon everyone, including the boy, forgot about him. It was a terrible story.

But this letter could help! It might have been the one clue that they needed to find him! The boy looked down at the first sheet and eagerly began reading.

To Whom it May Concern,

It is doubtful you know who I am, but my name is Anthony Maxwell. If you have found this, then I have no doubts you have found the Rabbit Hole as well. This isn't any normal hole. I don't totally understand it, but this is the extent of my knowledge.

I'm sure you have sources of stress in your life. Everyone does. I'm also sure that you've tried to rid yourself of that stress in a number of ways. No doubt most of them have failed.

The Rabbit Hole offers a foolproof way to escape specific sources of stress. Allow me to explain, because I'm sure you're skeptical. Take a slip of paper (I have included one and a pen in the envelope) and write a minor source of stress in your life (ex. "overdue homework"). Drop the slip into the Hole. Only ONE slip. Then go home and sleep through the night. Tomorrow, go and talk to your teacher about the overdue homework and try and explain yourself. If something seems off, then flip this page over. Until then, DO NOT KEEP READING.

The boy scoffed. This was rubbish, obviously some stupid ruse to learn people's problems. Still, he was interested in disproving the letter, so he grabbed the pen and wrote "traffic tickets" on it with the pen (he had just gotten a two hundred dollar ticket the past week and neglected to inform anyone of it yet. His copy of it was still sitting in his wallet, in a zipped up pocket with other recent receipts). He dropped the slip into the opening and watched it flutter away. He was laughing, thinking just how stupid he was to try this. The boy slid the letter back into the envelope and stuffed it back in the roots. When nothing happened the next day, he wanted to come back and laugh at the stupidity of Anthony Maxwell. He stood and turned, leaving the hole behind him, and returned to his simple life, with Anthony on his mind, wondering what exactly had happened to him.



MAJOR THANKS TO AARON KOEHNE FOR HELPING ME BREAK MY BLOCK. I DEDICATE THIS STORY TO YOU!

Starting a series!

I've decided that writing short poems and stories are starting to bore me slightly, and want to show that I am more versatile with my writing style, so I'm going to start a small series called "The Boy and The Rabbit Hole." I really hope that you enjoy it and would love to hear feedback from everyone as the story progresses. Thanks everyone! But a major thanks to Aaron Koehne for giving me the advice that broke my writer's block. This story is dedicated to you Aaron!

R. R. Barrett

The Art of Road Trips in the Rain

Here for a moment,

Then gone when eyes are opened,

I can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow

Knowing I won’t ever see that landscape again.

I won’t ever be back in a place

Where EVERYTHING was perfectly untouched

Next time I return, if ever,

So much will have changed.

Trees will have grown.

Grass will have died.

Leaves will have fallen.

Life will have continued.

But if I had tumbled out of my shelter

And run off to explore,

Would I have grown old with it?

Could I escape the ferocity of a concrete jungle?

Yet even now I know that I cannot.

There is too much to do,

Too many to leave behind,

Too much lost.

Even with that thought,

My sorrow returns.

There is nothing preventing me from leaving,

Yet so much holds me back.

A seat belt, yes,

But my mind finds family,

A place where everyone loves you.

This can’t be found out there.

So I sit back and sigh,

And turn to gaze at the leather in front of me.

Still I can’t help but look out

And sorrow turns to envy.

How I long to travel out into that landscape.

How I want to escape my invisible bonds.

How I wish the water pouring down

Would wash me into the unknown.

To explore, to grow old,

To escape, to be reborn.

So I dream of escaping the pavement

And getting swallowed by a landscape.

Being lost in the green.

Running until I vanish into the rainstorm.

Why, oh why,

Can I not escape?

Thanks

In response to "Apologies,"
I felt this was almost required.
Because for every apology,
there are plenty of people that I haven't ever thanked.
Many overlap.

It's going to be another ongoing list,
so if "Apologies" wasn't your cup of tea,
keep moving.
But this is just as important,
and I already know that at least one is about you.

To those who told me I couldn't do it,
you pushed me to be the person that I am today.
Every insult, ever demeaning remark, ever pull down
just pushed me further into my future.
Thank you.

To those who told me I could do it,
you helped me get back up when I fell flat.
You challenged me to surpass what I had already done,
even when I didn't think I could do it.
Thank you.

To those who stuck by me during rough times,
you were an amazing friend, and I couldn't ask for more.
All I can hope is that I have the ability to repay you
if the time comes.
Thank you.

To those who inspired me,
you mean more to me that you realize.
The things you do and tell me have helped me through
the hardest times in my life.
Thank you.

To those who made my heart jump,
you know who you are.
You made me realize that the world isn't full of vile people
and even as a teenager, happiness can be found.
Thank you.

To those who ripped my heart apart,
it might sound weird that I'm thanking you,
but each heart break proved to me that
I don't have to rely on another person to be happy.
Thank you.

To those who taught me,
I try to take everything that I learn and use it
in some form or fashion.
Every situation is a learning situation.
Thank you.

To those who gave me another chance,
God knows that I have had some rocky friendships,
and I am more grateful then you know for
the chance to redeem myself.
Thank you.

To those who tormented me in middle school,
you don't realize how much you changed me.
I'm stronger know then I ever could have been,
simply because you threw all that petty drama my way.
Thank you.

To those who insult me,
you help me realize my faults,
and I strive to change them.
Even though you deliver them in a slightly rude way, life isn't ever pretty.
Thank you.

To those who read my writing,
the fact that you keep coming back for more
does so much that you can't comprehend the magnitude
of importance you have to me.
Thank you.

To those who I call fellow thespians,
I probably thank you most of all.
Some of my best moments have happened amongst theatre kids,
and all of you mean so much to me that I can't ever fully express it.
Thank you.

To those who I call fellow Boy Scouts,
the skills that you have taught me far exceed fire building and how to use a knife.
Scouting has opened tons of doors for me,
and if I worked for forever and a day, I couldn't ever repay you.
Thank you.

To those who I have met through my church,
you are the chain that keeps me from falling into the endless pit of high school drama.
From choir to youth and everywhere in between,
you have pulled me off the edge.
Thank you.

To my sister,
the fact that you get your own entire stanza should say enough,
but I'm going to break the template just for you.
You fit into almost every category above.
You love me when no one else does.
You help me when no one else can.
You pull me up when everyone else shoots me down.
You laugh with me when everyone else laughs at me.
You laugh at me when I need to laugh at myself.
You taught me that country is the best genre of music.
You inspire me to reach for greater heights.
You calm me down when I'm about to explode.
You are the best sibling one could ask for, and most certainly not the one that I deserve.
You won't ever let me make up all the things that you did for me, because you love me too much.
You are the best thing that I have in my life.
You are my best friend.
Thank you.

As I said, it's not going to stop here.
"Apologies" and "Thanks" will keep growing.
If you know what you did to me,
you know which ones apply to you.
There's only one thing left to say.

Thank you.

Apologies

I would like to apologize.
To you.
And you.
Even you.
It's been very long overdue.

I am not perfect,
I won't even pretend that I am.
However, if any of my countless flaws
have ever caused you any pain,
I am truly sorry.

If you read this, you might just think,
"Oh look, he's hiding behind his blog,
he doesn't have the decency to apologize to my face."
The fact is, there are too many faces I would have to approach,
and too many people that would just laugh right back in mine.

So I'm just going to throw my apologies
into my ward.
If one of them seems to be pointed towards you,
it's probably meant for you.
Just read them all, I'm sure one relates to you.

I'm sorry for judging you.
I jumped to conclusions about you
when I only had one side of the story,
if that.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry I distanced myself from you.
I was going through a really rough time,
and I thought that i could do it alone.
I couldn't.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for lying to you.
The truth is so hard for me to face sometimes,
and I thought that lying would make it easier.
I guess that isn't so true, since I have to keep living a lie.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for disrespecting you.
You were just trying to help,
and I couldn't get past my ego
to accept your help.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for insulting you.
Truth is, I admire your qualities,
and I even admit to being jealous of you.
The insults just seemed easier to live with.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for holding a grudge against you.
Even this long after what happened,
I still can't find it within myself to repair our friendship.
But I can't stand living with this grudge.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for clinging.
You had done something to me that I wasn't used to,
and I couldn't help but want more,
even though it was obvious you didn't.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for taking advantage of you.
I was vulnerable, but you were more so.
I wanted to feel better, and felt like you could do that to me.
I just hurt each of us even more.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for leading you on.
This might seem a lot like taking advantage, but it's worse.
I played with your emotions, simply because I didn't understand mine.
It was terrible, and I still feel horrible because of it.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for demanding you change.
Not to steal song lyrics, but you're perfect the way you are.
I couldn't look past my own personal opinions to see how
the real you is light years better then I will ever be.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for overstepping my bounds.
What I did was rude and selfish,
and I know that you know I was just trying to protect you,
but it was not something that a real friend would do.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for that conversation.
I shouldn't have ever pressed "Send" on that text,
because even though you said it would be alright,
I already know that our friendship won't be the same anymore.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for doubting you.
After everything that I told you and you helped me through,
I didn't believe you in your darkest hour.
It was really inexcusable.
Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for keeping the truth from you.
It isn't lying, simply because I never said anything constituting a lie.
But you spilled yourself out to me,
and I couldn't do the same to you.
Please forgive me.

This list won't stop here.
I will mess up again.
And when I can't face you because of how bad I made it,
expect to see an apology here waiting for you.

Please accept it.