The Complete Alice Wonder Series - Insanity - Books 1 - 9

by Cameron Jace

  What have I done?

  The clock on the wall says it’s 11:02 a.m.

  18

  DOWNSTAIRS, ALICE WONDER’S HOUSE, 7 FOLLY BRIDGE, OXFORD, 11:00 A.M.

  “No one knows what we’ve done, Edith.” Lorina picked up a mirror and checked her carefully drawn eyebrows, still sitting on the couch. “Boy, I hate my eyebrows. I mean, I love my eyebrows, but not enough not to hate them. Ugh.”

  “How can you be sure that no one knows?” Edith pressed against her wound.

  “It’s a mad world, sis.” Lorina plucked a stray hair away. A smile captured her lips as if she’d conquered Rome. “Even if someone knows, who’d believe them?”

  “I don’t know.” Edith sighed, frustrated with her sister’s carelessness. “But...”

  “But what?” Lorina was done with her eyebrows. “Listen, sis. You need to get yourself together. Actually, you need to go out on a date, but we’ll talk about that later. Right now, we don’t care if anyone knows. Besides, even if someone does, it’s not like we’re alone in this. A lot of people have got our backs. Do you think this mirror is a bit foggy?” She wiped the mirror with the tips of her fingers.

  Edith said nothing. She only stared at her younger sister. Outsiders usually considered Lorina the airhead, boyfriend-hungry sister, who’d trip wearing her heels at a party. Little did they know that Lorina was the cruelest creature in the world, even compared to Edith.

  “So, I shouldn’t worry?” Edith said.

  “Damn this mirror.” Lorina plowed it against the wall. She looked like a maniac for a second, but then returned to her Barbie-like look again. She stood up, rubbed her middle finger gently on her lower lip, and approached Edith. “Sis, you can count on me.” She rested her elbows on the kitchen table, facing Edith. “What we have done in the past stays in the past. We’ve done our part. Others will do theirs. Soon it will all be just fine.” She pulled Edith’s hand up and smoothly wiped the blood away. “Is that the knife?”

  Edith nodded silently.

  “Well, aren’t you sentimental, keeping such evidence at hand.” Lorina rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t you have destroyed it about twelve years ago?”

  “It’s a good knife,” Edith argued. She had no idea why she had kept this knife so long, sharpening it every few months. “You still keep the dress.”

  “Ah.” Lorina looked at it. “The housemaid dress. But fair enough. Each of us is keeping a piece of the memory. Blood on the dress. Blood on the knife.” She snickered. “Which reminds me.” Lorina clicked her fingers. “Did you get rid of the girl’s body from last week? The girl from Drury Lane?”

  “I did.” Edith snickered, influenced by her sister’s morbidity. Sometimes, Lorina’s ease of doing horrible things was the best way to bond the sisters together.

  “Chopped her to pieces?” Lorina raised an eyebrow.

  Edith nodded, eyes wide open.

  “Good, sis.” Lorina patted her. “Sorry, I couldn’t help with the chopping. I had just manicured my fingernails.”

  “It’s okay.” Edith rammed her knife through the carrot again. “I love chopping.”

  Both girls laughed and forgot about the message.

  It was a short-lived moment of happiness, though.

  Lorina’s face changed all of a sudden. “Did you hear that?” She cocked her head upward. “I think Mother dropped something upstairs.”

  “Mother isn’t in the house, Lorina.” Edith’s face dimmed again.

  Both girls stared at the ceiling until they heard something moving upstairs. They lowered their heads and glared at each other. “A stranger is in the house!”

  19

  UPSTAIRS, ALICE WONDER’S HOUSE, 7 FOLLY BRIDGE, OXFORD, 11:02 A.M.

  I pick up the pieces of the phone and put them together again, cursing my clumsiness and irresponsibility. Thank God the phone wasn’t smashed. I just need to put the battery back in and clip it together. As I press the ON button again, my heart is racing. I could be responsible for children dying in some kindergarten somewhere. It seems so random, but even though I know none of these children, I have to save them.

  The phone is on, and I message back:

  I will do whatever you want, just restart the bomb!

  I click send and stare at the clock on the wall. It’s almost 11:03 a.m. Did I miss the time? The wait is killing me.

  My personal phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out. It’s the Pillar again. Why would he be calling me while he is watching my sisters downstairs?

  The other phone beeps again. It’s an MP3 file. I click it open.

  Playing the file, I realize I am listening to a conversation between my sisters. Strangely enough, I don’t recognize their voices immediately. Only when they start talking about me. What is this? I hear them talking about an “event.” A secret event no one’s supposed to know about? But that’s not the harsh part. I hear them talking about “what happened to me.”

  What does that mean?

  I feel the haze closing in on me again. My mind is spinning. Then the phone beeps one more time. A message from the Hatter:

  I will reset the bomb once you pick up the next clue. It’s a housemaid’s dress, hung in the kitchen downstairs. Good luck with confronting your sisters!

  On the other hand, the Pillar keeps buzzing my personal phone. Too many things happen at once. The clock on the wall says it’s 11:04 a.m. A surging sting rushes through my body. Hate. Anger. Insanity.

  I tuck the gloves and fan in the back pockets of my jeans. I have a feeling I will need them later.

  I open the door and dash down the stairs. Since the Hatter can see and record everything around me, I assume he is nearby. But I can’t waste time looking for him. I don’t even know what he looks like exactly. I do this to save the children—and to confront my sisters.

  20

  DOWNSTAIRS, ALICE WONDER’S HOUSE, 7 FOLLY BRIDGE, OXFORD, 11:05 A.M.

  At the foot of the stairs, I see Lorina and Edith staring back at me. They’re appalled at seeing me. I’m appalled to see them appalled to see me. One happy, appalled family.

  Without hesitation, Edith waves a glinting knife in my direction. It’s as if she has seen a ghost. The look in her eyes suggests she wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. How is this possible? Isn’t she my sister?

  Still stiffened by the heaviness of the moment, I turn and look at Lorina. Maybe my Barbie girl sister will be kinder to me. But she isn’t. She looks upon me with pursed lips, as if I am unworthy.

  Previously I knew my sister rather mocked my insanity and blamed me for killing my classmates. I have been thinking about it for many a night in my cell: what have I done to them that made them hate me this much?

  “Look what the cat dragged in.” Lorina almost sings the words, as if she is Waltraud making fun of me in the asylum.

  “I think we should get rid of her.” Edith’s face is a bubble of hatred and evil.

  “Kill her, you mean?” Lorina asks.

  “Chop her like carrots and then kill her.” Edith snickers.

  I can’t believe my ears. I must be insane—if I had a shilling for every time the thought crossed my mind. This can’t be how the world operates. My sisters can’t be so cruel. It must be me who’s gone Willy Wonka.

  “What have you done to me?” The words escape my mouth ever so slowly. “I heard you talk about me. What is this event you’re talking about?”

  Then I see the dress hung on the wall behind them. I shouldn’t be wasting my time asking about me now. I shouldn’t be this selfish. My priority should be to get the dress and stop the bomb. But I can’t help it.

  “You heard us talk. About the Event? How?” Edith grimaces, and her chubby cheeks bubble out. I watch her face redden. Her anger leaves me paralyzed in my place. It’s so imminent I forget I need an answer to my question.

  “How are you not in the asylum?” Edith says as she hurries toward me with the knife, about to stab me.

  It takes me a moment to realize that my si
ster is about to kill me. But it also helps that I don’t really remember her. We don’t have anything in common. No childhood memories. No secrets shared. Not even fights. In the back of my mind, she doesn’t mean anything to me.

  I duck, letting Edith swing her knife and slice the thin air above me. Then I kick her sideways in the knees. Nonsensical jujitsu style. My fingers tighten together, and my hand is straight as a rod.

  Edith trips and falls on her face. Her head bangs against the foot of the stairs. She is aching. Cursing me. There is a moment when I want to lend her a hand and apologize, but I don’t do it. She tried to stab me. She tried to freakin’ stab me.

  I close my eyes for a fraction of a second and breathe in. This is the first time my None Fu skills have actually worked. I read in the book that I should be yelling “yeehaa” or something while fighting. They call it an “anchor call.” A word so strong to you that it gives you strength. The only word that strong to me is “Jack.” But I can’t even begin thinking about him, or I’ll start crying. I figure I can do without that word.

  With my eyes still closed, I see the book’s pages flap before me. Page 82. Line 12. It reads: “A true None Fu Warrior never takes success for granted. If you bring your opponent to the floor, don’t expect them not to come back to life. Finish what you started. Long live None Fu!”

  Following the book’s instructions, opening my eyes, I kneel down and hit Edith with the back of my elbow, making sure her curses turn to moans then a hissing snore.

  I’m Alice’s cruel and nonsensical world of madness.

  I step on Edith’s hand, pull the knife and grip it, then turn to face my other sister. The dizziness strikes again. I don’t know why. It’s as if my mind is ready to daydream or envision something, but it’s still too weak to do it. I should have really taken my medication this morning.

  I am Alice’s sense of blurring realities!

  I have to admit it. I feel insane. And I love it.

  Lorina stands casually by the table, sucking on a strawberry. My Barbie sister pretends she is cooler than cool. A sinister smile on her heart-shaped lips gives away her real intentions. “None Fu, eh?” she says. “Where did you learn that?”

  “You know about None Fu?” I grimace, waving my knife, eyes on the dress behind her. I don’t know why, but looking at the dress intensifies my dizziness. I look away, for now.

  Lorina lifts her chin and chews on the strawberry. “Know about it?” She stretches her arms and knuckles her slim fingers. “I have a black belt in None Fu, little doll.” She suddenly runs across the hall like an acrobat in a circus. She runs backward then somersaults, landing on the couch. She arches her body in some martial arts position, stretching out her hands and calling the fight. “Let’s play.”

  My eyes are so wide open they hurt. I can’t believe this is happening.

  Knowing the Hatter must be watching me somehow, I dart into the open kitchen and pick up the housemaid’s dress. I wrap it around my waist then check the watch. It’s exactly 11:06 a.m. I’ve done it.

  My phone beeps instantly. Another message: Well done. Starting from 12:00 p.m., I will give you 24 more hours to catch the rabbit. That’s if your sister doesn’t kill you first.

  I look around for some sort of camera or something. How does the Hatter see all of this?

  But I have no time.

  Lorina is already in my face. She kick-boxes me so hard my back hits the refrigerator. My head buzzes like a tuning fork. I feel like I want to just faint away from all this madness, sliding against the refrigerator door, down to the floor, deep into an ocean of numbness.

  “Lorina one, Alice none!” My None Fu sister sets the score.

  21

  Stop!

  Freeze this scene. I need to catch my breath while I am sprawled on the kitchen floor.

  In a sane world, I’d just let go and call it a day. Seriously, everything so far has been on the tutti frutti side of the world. Why I am fighting my sister right now isn’t exactly clear to me. Neither do I know what they meant by “what happened to me.” A sane girl would just go away, date a nerdy boy, live in a cute little house, get pregnant, and raise kids later in life.

  But a sane girl wouldn’t be locked in an asylum. A sane girl wouldn’t have a companion called Carter Pillar.

  I’m not sane.

  Even if I am, I don’t think I am—paradox this!

  It’s hard to explain.

  I’m Alice on the dark side of insanity.

  And while the conformity of being stranded in an asylum might be a better option, even that isn’t working out for me. How many more times can I tolerate shock therapy? How many times can I tolerate waking up to find myself crippled?

  Whatever this is I am facing, I have no other choice. My insanity is my sanity. I am both, but I am one. If any of this makes sense.

  Okay now, roll on again. Unfreeze that scene.

  Lorina sneers at me while I am picking myself up. I have no idea how she is such a good None Fu fighter. Where did she learn it?

  I arch my body, stretching my hands and legs into another position I have been training for in my cell. It looks silly, like in a badly dubbed seventies Asian movie. But it should work out. I stare Lorina in the eyes.

  Ding. Round two!

  “Do you even know what this position is called?” Lorina makes fun of my average None Fu skills.

  “Zashchishchaiushchikhsya!” I reply. It’s one of the hardest positions—and words—in the book. The term was coined by Lewis Carroll himself when he visited Russia. It turns out Lewis left England but once. Only to go to Russia. He wrote a whole book about his journey and how he fell in love with this particular word, which meant “to be defended” in Russian.

  “Can you say Zashchishchaiushchikhsya ten times in a row?” Lorina snickers then raises the back of her hand to hit me.

  She moves too fast. I lose balance, feeling my cheek go numb from the power of her swing. I plow against the fruit basket on the kitchen table this time. A banana gets stuck in my open mouth, and strawberries shower me as I fall again. White cream trickling on my cheeks. I am a happy cake.

  “Lorina two, Alice none!” Lorina rubs something off her dress. It’s ridiculous how much she is enjoying this.

  “Look.” I stand up again. “I don’t need this. I came here to get something. I think I should leave now.”

  I’m Alice’s cowardly conscience and subconscious, trying to save the world.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” she exclaims. “Before I put you back in the asylum, where you belong.”

  “I’m your sister, Lorina,” I say. “Why would you want to do this to me? Please.”

  “You shouldn’t have left the asylum.” She lashes out her other hand at me.

  This time, I’ve had it.

  I don’t duck but face her instead. I crisscross my hand with hers as if they are swords, and then pull the pan from the table and swoosh it across her pretty face.

  “If you don’t shut up, I will omelet your pretty Barbie face.” I don’t even know where these words come from.

  Lorina glares in disbelief. I have the feeling she needs to check her face in the mirror, but I don’t wait that long before I swoosh her face with the pan in the other direction.

  “The hell with None Fu,” I shout. “Let’s do this the stay-at-home mum's style.” Then I kick her in the knees.

  Lorina slumps to the floor, as I feel the anger surface in me. I swing the pan one last time, but my hands freeze midway.

  It’s not the terrified look on Lorina’s face that stops me. It’s the fact that she is my sister. Whatever I do to play bad or evil, I seem to soften to the thought of family. The idea of someone being there for me. That I am not alone in this world. I don’t want to lose my family, even if I hardly feel for them. Even if they want to get rid of me.

  “You’re lucky I’m still hoping we can work this out as two sisters.” I pant when I say the words. My right hand argues that I should just hit her f
ace and get done with it. I hate my right hand and oppose it.

  “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” Lorina nods. “We’re sisters. We should work this out. I actually like you more than Edith.”

  Lorina’s lie is so sweet I want to believe her. My hunger for belonging to a family urges me to put the pan aside, and I lend her a hand. “I’m glad you think that, too,” I say, as she takes it. “Whatever you and Edith have done to me before, don’t hesitate to tell me. I promise I will hold no grudges. Let’s start all over again. All I want is to know the truth. To know who I am.”

  Lorina nods, getting to her feet. “I’m so sorry.” She begins to trickle tears.

  “Don’t be.” I am about to cry as well, realizing I have no memories of crying on someone’s shoulder. “I really need this.” I find myself opening my arms wide, longing for Lorina’s hug.

  But then Lorina’s eyes gleam with someone’s reflection behind me. I look closer, and I glimpse a silhouette of what looks like Edith about to stab me with her knife again. When I raise my head to Lorina’s eyes, I understand how naive I am. She grins at me as Edith stabs me.

  I was a fool again.

  22

  RADCLIFFE LUNATIC ASYLUM

  Dr. Truckle stood looking at the miserable flamingo inside the cage, and he had no idea what its condition was in scientific terms.

  What was the diagnosis of an independent mind? Was it madness to be different, to want to live, and disobey?

  “You’re in a lot of trouble. You know that, right?” Dr. Truckle said to the flamingo.

  The flamingo said nothing and hardly acknowledged the doctor’s presence, its long neck swirling over its body.

  “What’s wrong with getting your head bumped into a ball?” Dr. Truckle asked him. “Wouldn’t you do that in the name of Britain?”