Page 17 of Madness

“We lost our minds in that ward, brother. At least in this one, we get to keep our heads.”

He sighs deeply, and I can see how much being in Ward D has affected him.

Ward D is also referred to as the ‘rabbit hole’ because we lose ourselvesdown there.

They keep us drugged to ensure compliance and, ninety percent of the time, restrained to the bed by a fabric handcuff.

I had a little more freedom – no cuffs, and was only occasionally sedated when Nurse White would be visiting.

The rabbit hole still took its toll on me; the isolation was suffocating, and the silence from Dusty when I managed to sneak into his room at night nearly pushed me to the brink of insanity.

My mind was lost because I did not have my brother, left in my own company, but Dusty was trapped in a drugged state, and I hate that I couldn’t save him.

“Desmond,” Dusty sighs.

“Yeah?”

“What time is it?” he asks, a hint of desperation in his tone.

I search the hallways for a clock, but I see none, and I do not want to give away the one I have wrapped around my ankle.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure there’s a clock up ahead.”

“We’re going to be late,” Dusty says rather frantically, “We can’t be late.”

“We won’t be late, and there is no rush. I promise you,” I say.

Dusty moves forward, the guards trailing behind us at a leisurely pace. His movements are sluggish, and I’m thankful that they do not rush him.

I played cards with the two guards behind me, gaining favours over the years, but I couldn’t save my twin – no matter how many favours I garnered.

The weight of that failure sits heavily on my chest, and guilt threatens to eat me alive.

“I’m tired, brother,” Dusty yawns, and I let him lean against me as we walk.

“I know, and once we get to the new ward, you can sleep off these godforsaken drugs, and you’ll be as good as new,” I tell him, keeping my arm wrapped around his waist.

One of the guards behind me scoffs a laugh, and I turn my head to glare at him over my shoulder.

I may have acted friendly with them in order to try to save Dusty from the torment of Ward D, but I would burn Wonderland to the ground if given the chance.

We reach the doors, and the once pristine white walls and red diamonds are lackluster from years of neglect.

We are forgotten down here in the rabbit hole, left to rot because they can’t be bothered with us.

Solitary confinement is just below us, and somehow, they are treated better than we are.

“Names?” the guard at the door asks, and my brother and I smirk at each other.

“I’m Desmond, and he is Dusty,” I say.

“Or am I Desmond, and he is Dusty?” Dusty says.

“Or are you Dusty, and I am Desmond?”

“Maybe you are, and maybe I am not.”

“What on earth are you both blabbing about? Who is who?” the guard raises his voice, irritation at our antics evident.

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