Extras

WE'RE ALL MAD HERE

                  He waited for her. She had told him to wait, so he did. In the stillness, in the darkness, in the silence, he sat, unmoving.

                  He was afraid of the dark. It seems a tangible cloud around him, somewhere between a mist and a liquid, suffocating and drowning him. What was out there, in the stillness, in the darkness? Was there a light, somewhere, which he could find?

                  No. He had tried before. There was no light; he did not know what light was.

He would wait for her.

                  Finally, after what seemed like ages, he heard the door creak open, the slight patter of feet against the cold, hard tiles beneath him. The sound was loud in the silence, thundering, and he wished she would be quiet. His head hurt. He was shaking in the shirt he wore, the funny shirt that made him hug himself. He wanted to lie down.

                  “Martin.” She said. It was his name. He couldn’t remember hers, even though he knew she had told him the last time she had seen him. “I’m Alice.” She said, as if in answer to his question, as if she’d said the same thing a hundred times. 

                  “Where’s my hat, Alice?” He muttered, a phrase he knew, remembered from some far-off time, a long-ago place. “My hat?”

                  “They’ve taken it.” Alice whispered, and he suddenly felt the tightness of his own arms around himself loosen. “I’ll get it back. But you have to come with me. Okay?”

                  “But…” He stretched his arms out into the darkness. “Where am I?”

                  “The same place you always are.” Alice said. “But you won’t be there anymore if you don’t come with me.”

                  “My hat?”

                  “I’ll get it back.” He felt the pressure of her hand in his, tugging him forward.

He followed her touch, wanting it, needing it. “Dark. I’m afraid of the dark,” he muttered, a phrase he’d heard before from someone else. He wasn’t entirely certain what it meant.

“I know.” Alice said, squeezing his fingers. “Everything will be all right. But I need you to be quiet now, okay?”

Martin obeyed, content to listen to the sound of Alice’s feet against the tile. Suddenly, she stopped and pushed him. He heard a door close and fell onto the ground, and curled up against himself, listening to her conversation.

“Where is he, nurse?” The deep-voiced woman drawled, slowly, drawing out the words. 

“Where is who?” That was Alice.

“Martin.” The deep voice, which chilled him to the bone and caused him to shiver again, worse than before. He was afraid of the dark and of the voice in the dark.

“What do you need him for?” Alice asked. “He’s in his room, I think.”

No, he wasn’t. He was behind this door, listening. Alice knew that. He wanted to be in his room, but he wasn’t.

“They’re here for him. For all of them. Half of the patients seem to be missing. I don’t know what’s going on.” He heard the deep-voiced woman blow air out of her mouth. “It would be so nice if something made sense for a change!”

“Perhaps he’s run off again.” Alice said. “He didn’t have his hat when I saw him last.”

A deep laugh. “That Mad Hatter. Freaks. I’m surrounded by freaks!”

“You work in an asylum.” Alice said, quietly. “We’re all mad here.”

“Yes, well.” Another laugh. “I won’t work here, pretty soon. There won’t be a ‘here’ to work in, in a few days.”

Silence. Then: “You shouldn’t joke like that, Charlotte.”

“Like you say, ‘we’re all mad here’.” Another long, deep laugh. “Don’t you worry that pretty, blonde head of yours, Alice. When Mein ‎Führer arrives, the loonies will all be lined up in front of him.”

“Go find them, then!” The girl said, with more ferocity than Martin thought she could possibly have had. His head hurt more than ever, and his arms ached from always being wrapped around himself. He heard heavy footfalls, loud at first and then softer, softer, until they were gone. Then he felt gentle pressure on his shoulder, and again felt warm inside.

“Martin?” That was his name. “I’m Alice.”

That was her name. “I know.”

“Are you ready?” She pulled on his shoulder. He made his legs stand up, then fought for his balance when he couldn’t find the floor.

“I’m falling!” Panicked, he flailed out into the darkness for where he thought she stood, desperate for her touch.

“No, you’re not,” she chided, taking his arm and helping him find his strength. “I need you to be quiet for me. Can you do that?” She began to pull him along once again.

“For you.” He repeated, then put his hand on his head and felt only his hair, soft and thick, under his fingers.

Confusion. “Where’s my hat?”

“I’ll get you another one.”

“I need that one!” His heart stopped, and so did his feet. “Where is it?” 

“Come on, Martin. Come on!” He felt her pull on him, felt her hand slide down his arm to take his hand. “We have to go. I’ll get it back for you. We have to go now.”

He didn’t move his feet, and he felt her hand grip his even tighter.

“Martin. Please!”

“My hat.” He said to the darkness.

It didn’t answer. Instead, Alice pressed her fingers tightly against his.

“Oh, Martin! I promise I’ll get it for you, but I can’t go back for it!” She pulled on his hand.
 He didn’t know what to do, so he stood there, his feet firmly planted against the floor.     

“Don’t you…see?” She said, pulling at him. “There are bad men coming! If they come and find you, they will do bad things to you and you will always be in the darkness! We don’t have time to go back for your hat! I’m sorry…so…sorry.”

“And if I go with you,” he muttered slowly, “I will not always be in the darkness?”

She stopped pulling at him. “I don’t know.”

“Even without my hat?”

A pause. Then: “Yes.”

He was afraid of the darkness. He wanted it to be gone. “Then…I will go with you.” He paused. "What’s your name?”

She laughed. It was a pretty sound, and he wished he could hear it all the time. “I’m Alice.” She said, and he felt a light, gentle touch against his cheek. “Alice.”

“Oh. That’s pretty.”

“Now can you be quiet for me?”

“For you.” He closed his mouth and followed her touch. He would follow wherever she went. He felt he could follow her forever, even in the darkness. With her in the dark with him, he was not afraid.

Once, for only a moment, they stopped. Martin felt a draft against his face; he could smell the grass and the musty dirt and he ran his hand over the rough edge of a window. Outside, he heard a loud noise. It was like an automobile. He liked to sit by the window in his room and listen to the automobiles pass. But this one sounded bigger than the others. It sounded bad. He wanted to ask Alice about the bad automobile that rumbled and grumbled and slowly got louder. But he remembered his promise and stayed quiet, and she pulled his hand again and he followed.

He walked slowly behind her, as she walked slowly, and neither spoke. Alice helped him down stair after stair, and Martin placed his hand on the wall once: it was cold and damp, not at all like the walls of his room. They were always warm and dry. “Where are we going?” he whispered.

“Somewhere else.” Alice replied.

“When we get to Somewhere Else, can I have a new hat?”

“Yes.”

Once, they passed through a door, and Martin could smell the grass and trees again, and the ground he walked on was uneven. “Is this Somewhere Else?”

Alice didn’t respond.

“Is this –“

“Hush! Duck down!” Alice pulled him down, and he hit his head on a wall. He wanted to shout as pain burst through his skull, but Alice had her hand over his mouth. So instead, he rested against her, listening to her quickening heartbeat and not feeling frightened at all.

He felt a draft and heard the creak of a door, but Alice’s heartbeat was louder and besides, whoever was coming might be bringing his new hat. This happy place must be Somewhere Else. This must be –

“Woher kommst du?” A thick, harsh voice exclaimed from behind him. “Where did you come from?” A harsh laugh. Alice began to shiver and she released Martin’s mouth, cradling his head in her lap.

“Please, sir!” She held him tightly and he wondered when he was going to get his hat. “Bitte, Meister…”

Martin felt a large hand clamp down on his arm and yank him out of Alice’s lap. “Put me down, please,” he said. “I am waiting for my hat.”

“Oh, you are?” The deep-voiced man pulled Martin to his feet and brought something hard against his face, rattling his teeth. “How about that for a hat?”

Martin said nothing. He stood up and stared at the darkness, and spit a foul-tasting liquid out of his mouth. “That was not a hat,” he said indignantly.

“Aber, ja, it was!” The man laughed. “You would like to see it again, ja?” 

“Stop it!” Alice’s voice, frantic, came from somewhere below him. “He doesn’t understand!”

“Does it not look like a hat, Verrückt?” The man laughed again, a rumbling sound like the big, bad automobile.

“He can’t see it. He’s blind!” Martin felt Alice’s arms around his waist. “Don’t use the helmet again!”

“Then I’ll hit you instead…and then I’ll cut off your head…and he’ll never see it.” His voice was soft now, but he sounded dangerously close, so close that Martin could feel the man’s hot breathe on his cheeks.

Martin put his arms around Alice, a hot burst flaming through his consciousness. “Don’t touch her!”

The man was silent for a moment. Then he raised his voice and called, “Mein Kommandant! Mein –“

A loud thump, and quiet little cry from Alice. Martin didn’t even have time to wonder why because he soon felt something very heavy crash into him, and he folded under the weight. The darkness seemed to envelope him, he couldn’t find Alice, and suddenly panic swallowed him whole. He cried out, reached out instinctively, but the darkness was crushing him.

“Charlotte.” Alice’s soft voice, from somewhere above.

“I see you found Martin.” Charlotte was the woman with the slow, deep voice. Would she take him away from Somewhere Else?

“You helped me. Danke, mein freund.”

“You were right. We all go a little mad sometimes, ja?” The slow voice said. She wasn’t taking him away? “Now go, meine schwester, before more come. Forget you saw me.”

As suddenly as the heaviness had come, it went away. Alice pulled him to his feet. “We have to run now, Martin,” she said. “Will you run for me?”

“For you.”

“Take my hand.” She gripped his fingers tightly. “Don’t let gp. Don’t ever let go, do you understand?”

“Wait!” When Alice began to move, Martin didn’t. “I want the hat.”

“The hat?”

“The hat he brought me.”

“Here,” the slow voiced woman said, and something hard was pushed into Martin’s hands. “I used it to knock him out.”

He put it on his head and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Now go!” The slow voice commanded. “Go!”

           Alice pulled him up and the two started running.

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TO MASK A SOUL - CHAPTER ONE SNEAK PEEK- DIGGORY

Between good and bad lies a range of gray areas, middling and mushing together in one great mass that is annoyingly confusing and beautiful and tempting all at once. He lived in this muddle of gray, blinded by the fog of temptations and emotions that constantly barraged him and kept his eyes from seeing the truth of anything – save, perhaps, that he was destitute. Not monetarily: but emotionally, and spiritually, he was bankrupt.

He was Lord Diggory de Lae Carlton the Third, though, if he had had any friends, they would likely have called him Mr. Carlton. It was a simple name and he held to it, shunning the titles that, to him, meant nothing.

“Do you care nothing for propriety?” The harsh voice spoke to him in words that he barely understood. “In the past month, you have gambled away half of what the company earns in a year, nearly. Have you…have you any idea what this might do to the company? To the life which you hold so dear?”