Page 11 of Madness

I can still feel the weight of their gazes on my back, particularly the woman’s piercing blue eyes, which seemed to see straight through me.

Why does this keep happening?

I clutch my forehead as I rush down the hallways as though I could physically contain my madness.

I glance back, half-expecting Hare and the woman to be following me, but the corridor remains empty, and a mix of embarrassment and fear flushes through me. I can’t help but wonder if my madness is becoming more evident to everyone around me, even when I try to contain it desperately.

The signs that Hare has placed around help me navigate my way to the cafeteria, the only thing not warped by my mind. My stomach growls as the smells practically carry me there, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I open the doors to a mostly empty room.

“Just help yourself!” a harsh male voice shouts from the kitchen. As I walk closer to the kitchen, the sounds of banging and things being thrown greet me.

A plump, pink-faced man in his late forties moves swiftly between the counters and the stove. He grumbles, snorts, and grabs asaltshaker, then suddenly squeals like a pig and hurls it forcefully against the wall.

I duck instinctively, the saltshaker narrowly missing my head, and I retreat from the kitchen and back into the cafeteria.

Food is laid out on the rows of tables—an assortment of pancakes, fruit, bacon, sausages, and eggs, with teapots and coffee carafes on each one.

I tentatively sit at a table closest to the barred windows, desperate to feel some warmth from the outside, even when the threat of rain looms in the overcast sky.

It’s always raining down here in England, but after years of being locked in the house and only allowed outside at night to do as Alice asked, I bask in the weather no matter how severe it is.

“Hi,” the beautiful woman from before says, sitting across from me, “I’m Red.”

She holds her hand out for me to shake, and I happily oblige.

I brace myself for the delusions to appear like they always do when I meet someone new – warping the person in front of me into something not entirely human, but nothing happens.

“I’m Al,” I introduce myself, shaking her hand and then pulling it back.

“You’re nottheeAlice?”

“I am not Alice,” I respond rather grumpily.

“No, you are much too young to be thee, Alice. Did you kill her?” Red asks me, but there’s no judgment in the way she looks at me, only curiosity.

“Off, off, off! Off with her head!”Queenie shouts.

“I-”

“It’s okay if you did. I mean, you had to end up here somehow…” Red mutters to herself, and I let it all drone out, a buzzing static filling my ears.

I stare at her as she rants and how her clothes wrap around her body like silk. Her red hair looks like a river of blood, and I want to run my fingers through it to see if my fingers would come away coated in the substance.

“You don’t care?” I blurt.

Red’s blue eyes crinkle at the sides, and she laughs, but it’s not cruel; it's more as if my question humours her, “Why would I care about such a frivolous thing? This is Wonderland, Al, and we’re all a bit mad here.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,”Queenie mutters,“Very, very, very strange.”

“So did you?” Red asks again, piling pancakes and bacon onto her plate, “Tea?”

“Please,” I grab a cup, but tiny little holes appear in the bottom, and I stare at it, trying to figure out if this is a delusion or real.

Mad… I’m utterly mad.

I shake my head, squeeze my eyes closed, and count to ten.

One…

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