Ever After High White Rabbit Novels & Stories

And it did. The rabbit let out a loud, deafening screech that shook The Intertwine to the core. I gasped, pressing my hands over my ears as I crumbled to the ground. A loud ping sound rang in my ears, and my head was hazy and disoriented as I tried to gather my thoughts. That was no rabbit. Rabbits didn’t make a loud banshee screech that could burst someones eardrums. What was it going to do next? Morph into a monster? My eyes managed to peel open, still watery and blurry, and I searched around for Raphael.

She is safe. But on the dresser, a new rabbit. White. Pure white. Tied with a black ribbon, precisely, almost elegantly. It sits among Eleanor's things, a mockery of innocence, a reminder that nowhere is safe. It is smaller than the first rabbit, more delicate, as if chosen with care. I pick it up. The fur is soft. Too soft. A note is attached, folded once, the edges sharp. I unfold it. The handwriting is different from Margaret's. Different from Patricia's. Sharp. Precise. Cold.

Rabbit: please, sex with him was good Skylar: yeah because you were a virgin whose first dick was a fun sized pickle… Rabbit: I can’t with you T0T Skylar: tell meeee, who was it!! Rabbit: my professor The texting sign popped up and disappeared and popped up again then disappeared. Skylar: YOU FUCKING SLY ASS BITCH!!! :( Rabbit cackled and for added measure he slipped out of his shirt and took a picture of his chest littered with bite marks and hickeys. Skylar: STOPP!! NOOOOO! I HATE YOU! Rabbit: I’ve never been flipped and folded in so many ways, Sky. I can barely stand upright.

(WHITE RABBIT) ONE, TWO, THREE AS THE RHYME BEATS INTO ITS TONE THAT CREATED THE VERY DREAD OF A SYMPHONY AND STARTED THE MELODY. FOUR, FIVE, SIX, IT STARTED TO HUM WITH THE IMPENDING WORDS THAT TOOK THE DREAD AND COLD FROM THE INSIDE. SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE, THE TWO OF THEM FIND THE PERFECT SPOT. IN A CORNER, YET NOT IN A DISTINCT TONAL PLAYGROUND, HE ACCEPTED THE INVITATION AS SHE GAVE THE CARD IN RETURN.

“No matter what you do, don't let my brother find out what happened between us. I will never forgive you in the same way that I did the rest of you.” “Remember that I am not the same person I was when you gang raped me. I am Violet now, the woman you bow to, the woman capable of resurrecting you, the white witch, as they call me. But let me assure you, they may call me the white witch, but I'm not that kind, so don't get on my nerves.”

I had to get to the bottom of this. “White Wolf, Alpha? Is it possible that it was the white wolf?’ I remember the tales that go on about the last white wolf and the special gift she has. Is that wolf even real? Or just a part of those fables. I sighed, knowing I wasn’t getting anywhere like this. I needed some time alone to think. “Thank you Jacob, you may leave now,” I dismissed him.

Then, I hung up without listening to Serena's shocked exclamations on the other end. I had just filled the bathtub with hot water when my phone buzzed with another notification. It seemed that I just could not get a moment's peace. I grabbed my phone irritably and realized it was the home surveillance system. Lucian and Esme had just walked in together. Was he really that eager? I had barely left, and Lucian was already bringing her home. I lay in the bathtub and watched the video with amusement. Lucian seemed drunk, and Esme was dragging his stumbling form to the couch. He was slurring loudly, "Mushroom soup! Mushroom soup!"

You will never be dead to me) When I finished writing, I noticed that tears had splattered onto the white pages, blotching the ink and smearing my words. Sniffling, I patted the mess as much as I could then closed and locked the journal before hiding it away with the gold key. It was night outside, for the sky was white and cloudy in the midst of the darkness, dropping tufts of snow onto the Siberian landscape as the moon sat obscured behind its curtain. I was so tired from today's events—I wanted to do nothing more than to have a dreamless sleep and wake up the next morning as innocent and clueless as an infant.

Whether he believed me or not was no longer important. Just then, Jonathan took out an exquisite box, placed it in my hands, and opened it. Inside was a ruby-studded brooch. "Honey, don't be mad, okay? I'm sorry. "This brooch is a custom limited edition. There are only two in the world. It'll definitely look good on you. Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary—how about we take Sam to the Peach Blossom Park in the suburbs?"