Do not walk under a ladder, you might have a bad luck, an unfortunate event happen to you in the future. Do not break the mirror in your house, you might catch an illness or your life would be more difficult than you expect. Do not blow a flute at midnight, someone from another world might take you with them. Do not put the slippers upside down, the weather might turn bad and you couldn't go out as you planned. Do not see your own reflection on the mirror at midnight, you might see your face is different, the demon would try to take your place in the real world. Do mot open that book, someone might put yourself in it, turn you into a part of the story. 

He tiptoed on the empty corridor, whispers could be heard from rooms around him. A black backpack in his sweaty hand, his face was tense, his movement a bit sluggish. No, he doesn't want to die, not now or tomorrow or next week or even next year. He needed more time to do everything on his wish list and his first wish was to escape from this terrible place. 

Holding his breath, his sweaty hands almost slipped from the door, he tried to open the paddlelock with two thin wire sticks. He practiced a lot on his spare time, on an unused door in the backyard. Thus this very night, he succeed opening the metal door. Chains clinked loudly and he almost die from heart attack, lips trembling. At last he locked the paddlelock again, sweats rolling on his forehead. The cold air filled his lungs, the smell of grass and river, the smell of freedom.

He barely contained his happiness, jumped from a tall wall which is separating the side garden and the river bank. He fell on the bushes, some torns and branches scratched his palms. Hissing lowly, he choose to keep running because he needed to. He ran as fast as he could, he didn't want them to catch him. He got farther and farther from them, from those cold hands and their dull voice, from those caresses and their low whispers. They disgusted him, he threw up on mid day because of those weird pills. His skin itched from the injections which went through his body more than twice a week. 

He was out of breath, he panted as untying the rope from the deck, throwing his backpack on to the boat. Sitting on a small wooden boat, his dirty boots were wet, his jacket felt a ton heavier than before. He tilted is head, paddles on hands. The stream sailed him steadily but he kept paddling away quickly. His hands undeniably sore, his mouth felt dry but there was a smile on his lips. He saw the mansion got father until it was a mere light in the middle of woods. Finally, he was free.  

The birds chirped happily, the sun shined brightly. The boy stirred on his sleep, he blinked, catiously look at his surrounding. The small boat sailed peacefully down the river, lulled him to sleep at last night. He could see some berries bushes, they looked brighter than he has ever seen. He sat up, he rummaged his backpack and pulled a stollen knife. As the boat docked, he grabbed his backpack, ready to run. 

"I wouldn't dare to do it if I was you," said a figure sitting a tree. The boy almost jumped from his skin, he went back to his boat, eyes wide.

A hand snatched his wrist, eyes glittered. "You can't go, you don't have any place to go," he affirmed. The boy acknowledged him as the same voice from a figure on the tree. The stranger's skin was as white as milk, his brows were thick, emphasizing his eyes. Those eyes full of curiosity and doubt.  

The boy stuttered, "I-I don't know..." he replied carefully, slowly putting his knife back in his pocket. He pulled his other hand, trying to make more space between him and the shorter guy. 

"Welcome to Neitherland," the stranger stretched his hand again, leading him out of the boat. A small smile on his lips. 

The stranger walked away despite him wobbled on his way. He felt sluggish and weak but he needed to stay alert in case the stranger would do something dangerous to him. But his thought was wrong.

They walked into the peaceful wood. Some blue and red butterflies were feeding from blooming flowers on the side of the pathway. They smelled so sweet, he almost could feel it on his tongue. The grass were greener, and the trees looked more lively with their leaves rustled. The gentle breeze caressed his cheeks and with the buzzing sound on his head, he felt a bit weird. This felt surreal. 

"Have a seat, please," the stranger pulled up a chair for him, ending his absentminded thoughts abruptly. "Did I interrupt something?" The guy asked, noticing the boy's awkwardness. 

"No, not really," he retorted quickly as sitting down on a white carved chair. The big table was set on a red, blue, and white checkered floor in the middle of the woods. There were three teapots, plates, cups, some silver cutlery and a lot of cakes and pastries. The boy smiled meekly, the empty chairs surrounded him.

"What is this?" he asked after a long pause, gazing at every each of cakes and pastries made him hungry. 

The guy wearing a white and blue striped shirt with deep dark blue blazer on top of it. "This is cake, young man. I expect you to know, you saw it anyway." he answered as if the boy has insulted him.

"Oh," he mumbled, heat crept on his cheeks. "Sorry, I meant, what should I do?" The question sounded dumb, even for his own ears. 

"You should eat the cake, or do you perhaps want to feed the bear?" The guy lifted one of his eyebrow.

"What bear?" And the boy screamed loudly hearing clattering sound next to him. He jumped from his seat, eyes as wide as a saucer. 

"Hey, you have some like an hour ago," the guy complained at the bear, feeding itself with a whole cake. "C'mon, let me have a quality time," he added. The bear groaned, some pink cream smeared on its chin, it the plate clean. The guy sighed when the bear made its way to the woods behind them.

"What are you doing here?" he asked the boy who bowed low under the table.

"It's gone?" he half whispered, hand clucthed on the knife on his pocket. The buzzing sound on his mind got louder and he grimaced a bit, too noisy. 

"Jeff," the guy corrected him.

The boy frowned. "Pardon me?" 

"The bear's name is Jeff. He likes cake and sometimes he joins my tea party," he explained, pulling the boy from under the table. "Now sit, and eat."

The boy obeyed him, catiously pouring tea into his cup. He added a cube of sugar and milk. "Why did you invite me to your... tea party?" he asked hesitantly.

"Because obviously, I need a company for my tea party," the guy answered, chuckled softly. 

"Oh, erm, okay. Thanks." The boy grabbed a muffin and red colored cake with white icing. 

"What for?" The guy sipped on his tea calmly.

"For having me here," the boy smiled meekly. 

"You'