Chapter 5

I panicked.

Full on panic attack. Tight chest. Short breath. Chills. Sweating. That full on uncomfortable feeling of dread.

Man up, Cass. I had to sit down. I needed to make sure that the ground was not going to swallow me whole. It was going to take a minute. A nice, long minute.

Breathe. Just breathe, Cassie. It's going to be okay. You can fix this. It's what you do.

Do you think I can do this, reader? I am eternally grateful that you haven't left me yet. But you, like many before you, probably think I'm insane. I think I'm insane. This has be some kind of psychotic break.

Of course it is, right? No sane person would end up in a novel, with Cassandra from Greek Mythology telling them that they have to save literature. 

Oh, god. OhgodOhgodOhgod.

This. Is. Happening.

I wished this would happen once. When I was alone as a child, and no one wanted to listen to my stories anymore. I wished that I could be in one of my favorite books. I wished I could meet my favorite characters. Because surely they would listen. They would want to play with me.

So what did I have to do?

I needed to get home, that's 100% sure. But I have this sinking feeling that in order to get home, I'm going to have to make it through the maze that is Wonderland.

So let's think, shall we, reader? We need to think like a heroine. Like someone who would know what to do because I am stuck. I can't get Alice to notice that I'm here.

Wait...

Wait...

DINAH.

I can get the cat to understand me. Well, kind of. I don't speak cat. However, I know that she (the cat) can see me. I know that through her meows, she is trying to communicate with me. I just need to get her to follow me to the rabbit hole near the tree. I just need to get a string, or a mouse, or something to lure Dinah just a little closer. So I know that I don't have a mouse because, ew, I wouldn't touch a non-domesticated mouse with a ten-foot pole. Those things hold germs, and fleas. It's how the plague was started. Seriously! The fleas on rats and mice on ships carried...and I'm off topic. You have to stop me, reader. When I go off topic you have to tell me to get back on track. Otherwise I'll go off on these stories about the Plague.

Since I will go nowhere near a mouse, not even for the sake of saving literature, I am going to have to find something else. But, I have a ribbon! Of course I have a ribbon. My hair sucks when...well, really anytime. One of my favorite looks is when I straighten my hair and then use a fun ribbon to keep my bangs off my face. The brilliance of today's hairstyle hacks win again.

So I whipped off my ribbon, cringing at the few strands of hair it takes out with it, and made my way over to Dinah and Alice. I wasn't trying to be stealth, although that thought has crossed my mind, and I think that I had made more noise than anticipated. What can I say? I was freaking nervous.

Dinah lifted her ginger head, and I swear, smiled at me. It was like she was ready for anything. She was basically saying, "Yep, Cassie. I am ready to help!" That is, if cats could talk. However, we're not there yet.

"Dinah!" I laughed and put my hands on my knees. She perked up at the sound of my voice, and sauntered over. She was excited to see me (I think), but she was going to take her sweet time. When I lowered the ribbon to her, those blue eyes of hers lit up. Ribbons and cats go together like PB&J. She launched her small self at the ribbon, but I pulled it away, and shuffled back, laughing at the sight of her.

With each tug, Dinah and I moved closer to the rabbit hole under the tree. At the very edge of the hole, I nearly forgot myself and fell in. That would have been a disaster. I needed Alice with me in order to get to Wonderland. Dinah was getting bored with not catching the ribbon. So much so, that she growled at me. I was shocked at her gumption, my cat never growled, I didn't think it was possible.

"Dinah?" Alice's voice broke through the growl. "Dinah, what are you doing over there?" Alice picked herself off of the ground, shook out her apron, and walked to where Dinah and I were standing.

"What's that, Dinah?" Alice got down on her knees and looked at the Rabbit Hole. Sweet Victory! We were almost there. But she was so balanced.

I hate to admit that I pushed a child down a rabbit hole. I really, really do. Yet, I can happily admit that I have no regret in my decision to try and push Alice down the hole. This time, she moved! As luck would have it, she fell down the hole.

"Goodbye, Dinah!" Her voice echoed. Now it was my turn. No time for a fear of heights, right?

And I jumped in after her.