Page 2 of Madness Becomes Her
“You there!” a man shouts, and I startle, flicking my gaze up to a police officer who’s got a light in one hand and a radio in the other. “Stay where you are! It’s after hours. You’re not allowed in here!”
I swallow as I look for an escape route. My bag is too far to grab and get away, but he sees me eyeing my options and picks up his pace.
“You’re not in any trouble. You just can’t stay here, Miss. Come on, don’t make this hard on me.”
I open my mouth to reply when a hand comes from the hole before my feet and wraps around my ankle.
“What the fu?—”
“Miss!”
My feet pull out from beneath me, and then I’m dragged backward down the hole.
“No! Please! Let me go!”
My screams echo as the hole opens, and then I’m free-falling through nothingness.
Somewhere, a clock is ticking. Time passes as the world falls away from me.
I stop screaming, still falling, but too tired to keep my fear at such an intense level.
Looking around me, I realize objects are floating in the air, flying past me.
I see playing cards, teapots with tea spilling from their spouts, teacups, and pocket watches. The scent of cinnamon and earth invades my nose, with hints of orange and florals.
A blue light becomes visible below. At first, it’s just a pinprick, but then it grows larger and larger still.
Fear spirals through me like water circles a drain, and I flail my arms and legs to slow my momentum.
It doesn’t help.
Closer and closer to the light, I drop before I halt two inches before a checkered floor.
Relieved, I fall to the floor in a huff.
I take a moment to take stock of my body. I’m alright.
Pulling my phone out, I nearly sob when I find it shattered from the fall. Even so, there’s no signal whatsoever.
I fell for what felt like ages, and it took a solid minute before I realized I was in a room.
The walls are dark, and vines crawl up them like spiders. The checkered floor is covered in dirt.
There’s a table in the middle of the room with all kinds of beakers and bottles, each with tags and writing.
Curious.
Standing, I dust myself off. There’s no use. I’m covered in muck. At least my endless fall had dried my clothes, though my hair has seen better styling.
Walking over to the table, I stop and read each tag.
Some are written in a language I don’t understand.
A card on the table says:Take what you need.
“What do I need?” I ask myself, feeling foolish for uttering it aloud.
Thinking of all the shit that happened the last few days, I focus on how much I need to just find the right person—the person who’s going to treat me like a princess.
