Madness, p.13
Madness, page 13
They both nod in unison, but it does nothing to hide the anxious glances they exchange from the corner of their eyes.
“And you?” I ask Harry.
“I’m fine. A go doon regularly to retrieve Hare from Bander or Yasmine’s room.” He says.
Doris climbs out from his pocket, her nose twitching furiously as we all walk to solitary.
“Spy! Kill it.”
“It is not a spy. It is a mouse.” I say aloud.
“Twitch, twitch, twitch goes her nose, nose, nose.”
Harry comes up next to me, eyeing me suspiciously, “Why must yi always speak ti yourself?”
“Why does your rabbit wear a waistcoat?” I retort.
Harry laughs a loud, mocking sound that seems to bounce off the walls. “Yi really are mad, aren’t yi?”
“He’s not mad, he’s eccentric.” Dusty grins.
“Oh, an outstanding imagination, too.” Desmond laughs.
“Aren’t we all mad?” I counter because I thought that’s why we all ended up here in Wonderland.
“I’m not,” Dusty says.
“I’m not either.” Desmond also says.
“Then who is?”
The twins point to both me and Harry.
“I amnae mad!” Harry exclaims.
“You are so. You talk to animals that do not talk back, and you wear a ridiculous hat.”
“Mad hat!” Hare jumps in, pointing at Harry’s hat that he never seems to take off.
“Yi wheesht Hare. It’s just a hat,” Harry sternly says to Hare, whose shoulders slump.
“Mad Hatter, isn’t he?” the masculine voice retorts in my head, and I snicker in response.
“Wit’s so funny?” Harry narrows his eyes at me, “Wi need tae find Red, no have debates aboot who is mad or no.”
“You’re a mad hatter,” I snicker.
“Oh, he is,” Dusty says, laughing along.
“He is, he is.” Desmond also laughs, clutching his waist.
The hallway seems to twist as their laughter echoes off the walls, blending with the flickering light above us.
Harry’s face flushes a deep crimson that matches the guard’s uniform, “Call me what yi wantae, but at least I’m no the one talking to thin air,” he retorts, glaring at me.
Doris, the mouse, scurries back into his pocket with a huff, unsettled by our raised voices.
I ignore his cutting remark because he isn’t wrong and focus back on what we need to do, “Focus.” I say, my voice steady even when I want to leave them all behind and go after her myself, “We need to figure out where Red is.”
The twins seem to sober, exchanging a serious glance so different to the jokers they both can be, and Harry even looks sheepish as he nods along.
Hare entwines his hand into mine, and I glance down in surprise.
“Hi!” he smiles at me, his missing teeth a lot more noticeable now he’s closer, and I wonder how he lost them since the others seem to be perfectly fine.
“Hi,” I reply, allowing the comfort of touch from another human to soak in.
Life with Alice wasn’t very comforting, and she rarely offered me human contact, even as a baby.
“You cried entirely far too much for her to like you, let alone love you, Alice.”
“Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby!” Queenie shrieks.
I don’t reply. Instead, I continue to walk through the shadows that seem to dissipate as we walk closer now Hare is by my side.
Solitary looms just ahead, and I hope that we find Red inside, though it seems she is nowhere that we seem to look.
“What room is Bander’s?” I ask as we sneak through the door.
Patients in Wonderland aren’t allowed to go between wards, especially not solitary, where they keep the patients they don’t want to socialise. Hare is the exception since everyone in Wonderland seems to have a soft spot for him.
“Bander!” Hare takes off down the hallway to a door at the end and flings it open, revealing a terrifying-looking man who seems only to have one eye.
I expect my delusions to warp him, too, the way the corridors warp into twisted mazes that seem to rotate clockwise in a spiral illusion, but he’s untouched, and my brow furrows as I wonder why.
“Because of the legacy.”
“There is no legacy,” I hiss back, “No legacy at all. It’s a curse, and I wish to be rid of it and you forever.”
“Don’t be like that, Alice. You need me.”
“Why are you here?” the man, who I’m assuming is Bander, asks.
“Red is missing,” Harry steps forward from behind us and glances through the door to Hare, who is playing on the floor with some toy cars.
Bander’s single eye narrows as he scrutinises us, “Red is not lost. She is here in solitary.”
Hare, oblivious to the tension, continues to push his toy cars around, making soft engine noises.
Harry shifts uncomfortably beside me, “Can yi tell us wit room? A want ti make sure she’s ok.”
“She’s fine, and I’m not sure right now is the best time to interrupt her,” he smirks knowingly, but Desmond shakes his head.
“She missed therapy, and we’re all worried. Can you go check on her for us?”
Bander hesitates, glancing between us all, and then sighs, “Fine, but you have to hide in my room while I do. The guards down here are ruthless and have no mercy for people breaking the rules unless you are Hare.”
Hare’s head lifts at the mention of his name and smiles widely at Bander, “Red?”
“I’m going to get her, buddy. You going to look after our friends here while I go check on her?” he smiles back at Hare, and his face softens in response.
Hare nods his head vigorously, “Friends! Cars, play cars!”
“You heard him,” Bander chuckles, “Go play cards, I’ll be back in a moment… or not.”
Harry rolls his eyes, but we all do as we are told and shuffle into his room as he exits, the large, heavy door closing behind him.
It seems like the deeper we get into Wonderland and the longer I’m here, the darker and more twisted it becomes.
Why on earth would Red be placed in solitary, and why would the guards be so horrible when the whole point of Wonderland is to get better?
“Nobody gets better in Wonderland, Alice. It’s for those to tumble further down the rabbit hole until they don’t know what way is up or what way is down.”
A shiver runs down my spine at his words.
The voice is wrong – so wrong.
“Mad… I’m utterly mad.” I say louder this time, sinking onto the thin mattress that I think is supposed to be a bed.
I need to get better – I want to, and if Wonderland won’t be able to help me, then what is the point?
“You should die, die, die!”
“Queenie’s right, Alice. It’s what Alice wanted, after all.”
“No! I don’t want to die! I want to be normal. I want to get better!”
My mind swirls, and I clench my fists in an attempt to bring myself back, but it’s no use.
I only seem to be getting worse, and I don’t see any way out of the insanity that is breaking my mind apart.
“Do it, Alice, or embrace your legacy like Alice did.”
“No,” I whisper, “I will not succumb to the madness.”
I repeat the mantra Alice taught me out loud and in my mind in a desperate attempt to anchor myself, and as the voices taunt me, I know I need to hold onto whatever thread of sanity I have left – no matter how much the temptation to finally let go is.
“To be free.”
“Free, free, free.”
“You don’t deserve to live after what you did,” Alice’s voice floats towards me, her face appearing behind my closed lids, but I ignore her just as she ignored me growing up.
I did what I did to survive.
“You did it because you are mad. The madness is a legacy, Alice. Listen to it – embrace it.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Should we do something?” Dusty’s voice filters through the haze, tinged with worry and fear.
“Wi need tae knock him out. He’s lost it,” Harry suggests.
“He’s mad.”
“Should we get someone?” Desmond asks.
“And have him end up in solitary, or worse, the rabbit hole? No. he’s just lost and needs help.” Dusty remarks. The voices in my head quiet, and a warm blanket is wrapped around my shoulders.
Someone grasps my arms and lays me down, but I don’t open my eyes, too scared to see their faces after they’ve watched me finally lose myself completely.
“You’ll be ok. We’re a family now, a bit messed up, but we won’t let you be lost in Wonderland,” Desmond says, and the others mutter words of agreement.
“I’m already lost,” I mutter sluggishly as exhaustion takes over my body.
“No one is ever fully lost, and we’ll help you find your way back no matter what,” Dusty says, and the weight of his head resting on my shoulder is the last thing I feel as the exhaustion finally wins and pulls me under.
Chapter Twenty-One
I sneak out of my room, leaving the others behind as I go to check on my Atropa.
Honestly, it’s just an excuse for me to be able to visit her and not have my head taken off from Jameson for interrupting them so early.
That was supposed to come later.
I get to the corridor she’s kept in, and her agonised screams pierce the silence. The sound is filled with terror and pain, echoing off the cold, unforgiving walls.
Each scream twists my insides, and I quicken my pace, my bare feet slapping against the floor as I rush to her.
Flinging open the door to the room, my steps falter as I watch her body convulse. White looms above her, the ECT machine in her hands, and both prongs pressed harshly into either side of Red’s forehead.
I grab White, not caring about the consequences that may come from my actions, and pin her against the wall.
The prongs fall from her hands, clattering against the floor, and Red’s body slumps against the mattress.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” I scream into White’s face as she flinches back.
Her mouth opens and closes, her face turning a harsh red colour as I constrict my hand tighter around her throat.
“Bander?” Red’s voice rasps out, “Don’t.”
“She hurt you,” I whisper, my voice broken from seeing how defeated my Atropa looks, but I loosen my grip enough for White to breathe.
My arm stings from where her nails dug into my skin in a feeble attempt to get me to let go, and my fingers twitch against her skin. The urge to tighten them more, to rid my girl of her tormentor, is too much, but they would take me from her, and I can’t break Red’s heart like that.
The door to the room slams open, hitting the wall behind it, and Jameson stands there, his eyes filled with panic and fury, his chest heaving.
“I’ll end you, White, if you ever come near her again,” he grits out. “I warned you. I told you what would happen should you attempt to mess with Red again, but you couldn’t help yourself.”
The room falls into an uneasy silence as Jameson’s words hang in the air.
White nods as much as she can, and I let my arm fall limply to my side and back up until I’m standing next to Red should White try to make another move against her.
“Jameson,” White begins, her voice a little hoarse from the pressure I put on her windpipes but still trying to sound sickly sweet, “You’re letting your emotions get the better of you. This is about power, about owning Wonderland and everyone in it, and one day, you’ll belong to me just like all my other pets do.”
“Leave Nurse, or I’ll make sure you lose your licence and any chance you’ll ever have of inheriting Wonderland,” Jameson growls.
“You can’t touch me, Wocky, and you know it. It’s empty threats, and I’ll have my own way eventually. I always do – just ask my dear little sister.”
White slips past us, hurrying from the room, and we both descend on Red, unchaining her from the bed, and I gather her in my arms, needing her close to me.
I take her to her room, instructing Jameson to let the others know that she’s safe and make them leave solitary.
Hare will spend time with Yasmine, who stays in the room next to mine as he always does when I’m not around, and Jameson will make sure he’s okay before he comes up to Red’s room.
He tried to insist we put her in his office, but she refused, saying she needed the comfort of her own space to be able to recover.
She hasn’t said another word since, and I’m concerned. I can see the weight of what’s just happened to her in her eyes, and it aches to think that this is just another thing she needs to deal with as her mind slowly fractures from the games her sister tries to play with her.
Her silence is deafening, a stark contrast to what she’s usually like, and her red hair, which is typically bright and vibrant, seems limp and lifeless against her pillow.
We’ve been here for a day now, and she’s barely moved.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Bander. I’m tired of constantly looking over my shoulder for when she’ll strike next,” Red sighs into my chest, my arm wrapped around her protectively like I could shield her from whatever wants to harm her.
“I know, Red,” I murmur, smoothing her hair as she leans into me. “You can’t let her win. You have to stay strong and let Jameson take care of it. You’re not alone in this. In fact, I had four angry men in my room earlier demanding I come to look for you.”
This seems to get her attention, and she props herself up on her elbows as she looks at me, “Why?”
“You missed therapy, and they were concerned. If it weren’t for them worrying, I would have never known what was happening.”
Red’s eyes widen slightly, a mixture of surprise and gratitude flickering across her face. “They were worried about me?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, offering her what I hope is a reassuring smile, “They care about you more than you realise. We all do. You’re important to us, Red.”
She nods carefully, falling into thought, “Sometimes I forget that.”
“Just promise you won’t shut us out. We’re here for you to lean on. Let us be there for you, Atropa,” I say, hoping she listens to my words.
A soft, almost inaudible sigh escapes her lips as she meets my gaze, “I promise.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Is he too far gone?”
“No, no, no. He’s just nearly mad enough,” Queenie sighs, “But still is not nearly mad enough either.”
The voices in my head are becoming harder and harder to pull apart, and I am no longer able to keep them in separate cages inside my mind.
“Have I gone round the bend? Have I finally lost it?” I whisper to myself in the reflection of the mirror, hoping for some semblance of sanity to answer back.
The mirror remains silent… as if it could ever talk back, and offers me no solace.
My eyes look normal – no wild, frantic gleam, no shadows of delusion… nothing to indicate that I’m entirely mad. Yet the voices and the conversations they are having, as if I’m not even here, tell a different story.
“I’m afraid so, Alice. You’ve finally gone mad… bonkers even… entirely off your head.”
“Head, head, head!” Queenie chants in a rhythmic loop.
“Mad… I’ve gone entirely freaking mad.” I mutter, sinking to the cold, hard floor.
“He has, he has, he has!”
“Do you think we can push him far enough? To do what his legacy is prophesied?”
“There is no prophecy. I am just Al.”
“No, you are Alice. You just aren’t Alice enough to do what is needed to be done.”
“Then what do I need to do? How do I get rid of you?”
There’s a knock at my door before the masculine voice can answer, and a guard enters, searching for me to escort me to get my medication.
“Time for your medication, Al,” he says as I come back into the room.
The red crimson-uniform-clad guard morphs, and I rub my eyes to try to make sense of what I’m seeing as he transforms into a giant red playing card.
“Guard, card. Guard, card. Guard, card. Card, card, card.”
I expect Chesh to appear before me, the wide, toothy grin to apparate as he reveals that he’s played another joke, but when nothing happens, I sigh in defeat.
Maybe I am destined to be mad after all.
“Come on.” The guard card snaps at me, clicking his fingers, “We don’t have all day.”
I follow him from the room to the medical ward, hoping that it’s the nicer nurse who is handing out meds today and not Nurse White.
Just as I step out of the room, the masculine voice echoes in my mind, making my steps falter, “You cannot get rid of me, not until death rids you of me.”
The medical ward is always cold and sterile. Even the stark white light seems to rebound off of the white walls, making it almost blinding in its emptiness.
The distinct clicking of Nurse White’s heels against the tiles is almost mocking as Queenie shouts inside my head, “Click, click, click!”
Nurse white appears; her head seems to swell three times the size each time I come down here, and I swear I’ve seen her wobble a few times, too. The weight of the dome on her shoulders entirely too much.
“Time for your medication!” she says cheerily, holding the small white cup of pills in her hand.
I take them, holding them for a moment, and see a new one has been added to the ten I’m already forced to take.
“What’s the new one?” I ask.
“Does it matter? You want to be sane, don’t you?” she quirks an eyebrow at me, and I nod along because I do, I really, really, really do.
She holds out a manicured finger, tipping the cup up to my lips, “They’ll help.” She says, but I know better.
I’ve been here for weeks now… or has it been months? But they’ve never managed to rid me of the voices, only amplify them louder.
