he was deeply burrowed in his home. the home that he hated but risked his life to keep. his mind was no longer entirely his own. tormented by his mysterious shadow, he rarely went anywhere outside of his earthen space. in fear of harming another.
his home was crookedly cozy and dark.
there was a single window in the far corner veiled by ivy and rotting leaves. his fireplace was caked with dried mud, and surrounded by the gnarly roots of the tree above. sheets of dust could be seen through the small slits of light coming in from the slanted window. in the corner rested a decaying cozy chair and on the floor beside was a stack of old crusty books.
He; the rooms inhabitant, the rabbit, sat in the chair.
his small arthritic fingers resting on its frayed arms. his eyes drooped as did his ears. pain etched around his mouth...his long teeth aged, cracked and brown. he was muttering. as if continuing a long purposeful debate. tho, he was the only one there.
his breath rattled in an eerily crazed, near deathly way.
"What is happening to the sanity?" the rabbit inflicted with schizophrenia asked the deserted room. "what..where have I gone?"
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