Page 14 of Madness

It’s a nightmare as I watch someone else that I care about lose themselves to the monster that is their mind, and I have to remind myself that Hare isn’t my brother. That he’s safe here – well, as secure as he can be.

The guards sit at their usual table beside the door, making sure that the wards don’t get mixed together. A pack of cards sits on the table between them.

“Names?” The older guard asks. The iPad lit up next to him, and he taps away on it until the spreadsheet pops up. Every person in our ward islisted there—the only way to ensure that we can be outside securely.

“Harry,” I tell him, then look down at Hare, coaxing him to do the same.

We try our hardest to ensure he’s as independent as possible in such a place, but Hare’s bad days make it hard for him to focus, and he gets confused more quickly than usual.

I squeeze Hare’s hand, and he looks up at me confused, “Tell the guards yir name, buddy,” I try to coax him.

“Oh! I’m Hare! Do you have paper?”

“No. Now go outside,” the younger guard snaps, and I want to snap his neck for using that tone with Hare – who is the most harmless person in this place.

The doors buzz and then open, revealing a dreary-looking sky.

I slouch, wishing that the sun would at least peek out from behind the clouds during our time outside. But it’s England, and as long as it’s not raining, making it ‘inside time,’ I try not to care.

Hare takes off into a run, his hand yanking from mine the moment he spots Red with her friends by the trees.

The flowers all flounder around her, trying to keep her attention, and I smile at how disinterested she is at their current conversation.

The flowers are three of her closest friends since she was incarcerated here against her will, andwhile they talk some serious shite, they are sweet people.

Rose, Tulip, and Bud sit in the grass, plucking the blades between their fingers, but that’s not what holds my attention.

She does – she always does.

Red leans back against the tree, her head tilted back and her eyes closed.

She’s exquisite. Her facial features work together in perfect facial harmony, and I can’t help myself as I study her while she’s not looking at me.

Her red hair glistens in the light, even on the cloudiest days, and I swear her piercing blue eyes sparkle like the ocean does when the sun reflects on the surface of the water during hot summer days.

She’s wearing a red sundress today; little black diamonds decorate the skirt, and I have to suppress the smile that tries to take over my face.

She seems like a dream that was woven into reality.

Red likes games – a lot.

But she loves the colour red more.

Her eyes open, and she zeroes in on where I’m still standing at the doors like an idiot. I know I’ve been caught, so I play it off, sending her a small smile and escaping to my solitude on the opposite end of the gardens.

I’m not an idiot. I see the way she looks at me, and how she desperately wants to spend timewith me, even on the days I don’t acknowledge her.

But I can’t give in.

Red’s heart has been captured by two of the most dangerous men in this god-forsaken building, and they happily handed theirs over to her.

I cannot do the same so easily.

My heart was destroyed the day my best friend – my brother, died as cancer tore his body apart from the inside.

I find the warped tree. Its gnarled branches twist in different directions, and the leaves are scattered sparingly, as though they are stapled on to keep up the appearance that it’s not withering from the inside out.

They said failure to bloom when I asked, but I know the real reason why—though I do not tell anyone.

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