The Rabbit in the Waistcoat: A Magical Story with a Mysterious Twist
The Rabbit That Wasn’t Quite Right
Elara was a curious girl with wild dreams and a love for exploring. One morning, while walking near her grandmother’s cottage, she spotted something odd a white rabbit.
But not just any rabbit. This one stood upright, wore a dark waistcoat, and held a tiny silver pocket watch.
Even stranger, the rabbit was watching her.
When their eyes met, he gave a slow blink, turned, and hopped toward the forest edge.
Elara didn’t hesitate. Something about him felt like an invitation, like a question waiting to be answered.
She followed him past the familiar trees and into the unknown.
The Forest That Remembered
The forest was different once she crossed a low stone arch hidden in ivy.
The trees here whispered her name.
The air shimmered. Flowers turned their heads to look at her.
Time slowed.
The rabbit stopped near an ancient tree with deep cracks glowing faint blue. At its base: a door.
“This is the Door of Remembering,” he said, his voice calm and strange. “It only opens for those who were meant to return.”
“Return?” Elara asked, heart racing.
Instead of answering, the rabbit reached out with one paw and touched the door.
It opened with a soft sigh.
The Memory Room and the Truth Revealed
Inside the glowing tree, the walls shimmered like water lit by moonlight.
Elara stepped quietly into the heart of the forest’s oldest secret.
All around her, floating orbs drifted gently, each one filled with glimpses of forgotten dreams, castles wrapped in vines, starlit lakes, flying creatures, and people whose faces felt strangely familiar.
Then one orb paused before her.
In it, she saw herself, not as she was now, but older, wiser, and standing beside the same white rabbit.
Her heart fluttered.
This wasn’t just a magical place.
It felt like... home.
The rabbit stood quietly beside her, his eyes warm and knowing.
“My name is Thistlewick,” he said gently. “And this forest remembers you.”
Elara turned to him, confused. “Remembers me?”
He nodded. “Long ago, humans and magical beings lived side by side. But when belief faded, the magic had to hide.
Still, a few are chosen—ones who never truly forget.”
“You were one of us, Elara,” he continued.
“You were taken from this place as a baby.
And now, as the forest grows weak, you have returned, just as it was written.”
Elara’s fingers brushed one of the glowing orbs.
A rush of warmth filled her chest, like a long, lost song she almost remembered.
Magic, or memory, was stirring.
Awakening the Lost Path
Thistlewick led Elara deeper into the forest to a sacred place, a circle of ancient stones pulsing faintly with light.
“This is where it begins,” he said. “Or where it ends, if we do nothing.”
Elara stepped forward, her heart pounding.
She placed her hand on the tallest stone.
The moment she touched it, a wave of golden light rippled through the trees.
The entire forest came alive.
She could hear the trees singing, soft and low.
Hidden doors opened, vines unraveling like ribbons.
Old creatures stirred, blinking awake after years of silence.
“You’ve reawakened the path,” Thistlewick whispered.
“You’ve given magic a reason to return.”
When Elara finally walked back to her village, everything looked the same, familiar gardens, chimneys smoking, her grandmother’s cat dozing in the sun.
But Elara was not the same.
She carried the magic now. And the forest still whispered her name.
Sometimes, on quiet evenings, she could hear it in the breeze.
And sometimes, just as the sun dipped below the trees, her little sister would point and say,
“There’s a white rabbit outside.
He’s wearing a coat.
He’s watching us.”
The End !
Nadeera Nilupamali
Nadeera Nilupamali
. 67 Stories
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