Page 50 of Madness
These walls are a reminder – a punishment, and I know I deserve it, but all I ever wanted in life was to be free.
Free from the madness.
“Legacy. It’s a legacy, Alice, and one day you’ll see why.”
“I don’t want to see why. I want to be normal!” I scream into thin air.
Dusty visibly flinches, and his hand reaches out tentatively to touch my arm.
I fling myself back, unable to handle being touched right now.
What if I hurt him as I did Alice?
“Off, off, off! Off with their heads, heads, heads.”
“You aren’t going to hurt me, Al,” he reassures me, his eyes softening as he looks down at me huddled in the corner.
How did I get here?
How long have I been here for?
Tick.
Chesh floats in front of me, turning his massive fluffy head to the clock, “Tick tock, Al. Not long until the Wocky gets you like he did Alice.”
I shake my head.
“I promise you, you won’t hurt me,” Dusty says, his hand outstretched for me to take.
“I might.”
“You will because it’s fun.”
“Fun, fun, fun!”
Instead of me taking his hand, Dusty sits next to me on the floor, and for a moment, neither of us says anything.
He clears his throat, “You know, down in the rabbit hole, the moments when I was clear-headed, I would wish for death. Desmond would try to save me by making deals with the guards over a game of cards, but it was never enough…” he sighs, hanging his arms over his knees, and his head drops.
“Guards, cards. Guards, guards, guards are cards, cards, cards.”Queenie rhymes in my head, and I clench my fists because of the urge to drive them into the sideof my head.
“How did you survive the feeling of the walls closing in on you?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Dusty is quiet for a moment, then swallows hard, “I never thought I would, and it was worse when I was strapped to the bed, unable to move. I had to watch as my mind made the walls shrink closer, and even when I screamed out for help, they did nothing – only drugging me to shut me up.”
Hopelessness settles in my gut.
I’m never getting better, and I’m going to die in these walls because of the madness that plagues my mind.
“Just end it. End it like you ended her.”
“Mad… I’m utterly mad.”
“Not mad…” Dusty shakes his head, “I’ve been here for ten years now, and I’ve met people who are mad. You are just lost.”
“Thank you,” I say, “I’ve been feeling like my mind is fracturing here, and I feel a little better now.”
Dusty laughs, but it’s not humorous. This one is filled with anger—short and sharp: “That’s what they do here in Wonderland. They make you feel like your brain is slowly chipping away at itself until you finally lose it and end up down the rabbit hole just like we did.”
