Page 70 of Madness

I take her hand, leading her into her ensuite. Products litter the sink, and it sinks in for a moment, just how long she’s been here for.

Will I be here for this long?

Will I be lost in Wonderland forever?

“Give in to your legacy, and you can be free…”the masculine voice fades out when Red’s hand squeezes mine, and I remember what I have to do.

The motions come as second nature, a task I regularly did for Alice when she would lose herself far too much and forget to bathe.

I turn the faucet to fill the porcelain tub, and the sound of running water seems to drown out the silence that somehow has been loud since the arrival of the roses.

Red stands there like a statue, clutching a stem in her hand. Crimson blooms from her fist, the thorns digging into her skin, and I worry my lip on how to extract it from her grip without hurting her.

“Why white roses, Al?” she murmurs, her voice tinged with confusion and upset.

I don’t say anything right away, adding bubble bath to the water and leading her over to the steaming bath, “Are you able to strip and get in?” I ask her, “Do you want me to step out?”

She shakes her head but says nothing else and stands there, staring at the tiled wall.

“I’m going to strip you down, ok? I did this for my mum all the time when she got lost in her head,” I tell her, and strip her down to her underwear, never looking away from her face as I do, “A warm bath might help clear your mind.”

I coax her into the bath, the stem still clutched in her hand like a lifeline.

The steam seems to envelop the room like Abe’s therapy sessions, and the gentle smell of lavender lingers from the bubble bath I used.

Red lowers herself into the water, sighing as she sinks into it until only her head is visible.

“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, stepping away to leave the room even as every part of me is screaming to stay with her.

“Don’t,” she rasps, scotting forward in the water, “Join me… please?”

It’s the plea in her voice that has me stripping down to my boxers and climbing in behind her.

She settles back against my chest, and I freeze as her body moulds into mine almost perfectly.

I’ve only ever had one person be this close to me…

“Do not think of such things at this moment, Alice. Focus on her…”it says, and for once, I want to listen to him, to allow myself to feel free even if I never will be.

My boxers grow impossibly tight, and I try to tilt my hips so she doesn’t feel the reaction my body is having to her.

“So, what’s wrong with white roses?” I ask her, wanting to know why she shut down at the mere sight of them.

Red sighs, her wet hand clutching mine. The other lifting the drowned flower out of the water, “They mean purity. My dad would buy White them all the time and would always give meone from the bouquet, saying I was far too young for flowers of my own but that I was just as pure as them…” she sighs, “I always preferred red.”

I stroke Red’s hair away from her face and over her shoulder, the fiery red colour glistening with droplets.

“Why not just paint them?” I suggest, hating how my voice trembles from the memories that assault me of cold autumn nights.

“What a strange thing to do,” Red mumbles sleepily, barely above a whisper.

“She had to be happy, Al, and you made friends.”

“The friends that my mind made up,” I hiss.

“What?” Red shifts against me, “What did you make up, Al?”

I exhale, knowing I need to tell her but scared that she’ll look at me differently after, “My mum would get sad when the flowers would start to turn brown. It would throw her into an episode, and I could never tell what way it would go. Would she be so sad that she wouldn’t be able to leave her bed? Or would it throw her down the rabbit hole of rage and never quite knowing who she was, never mind me?”

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