Ascending From Madness

by Stacey Marie Brown

  Taking a deep breath, I turned on the water, splashing my face. My gaze drifted up to my likeness again when I saw a snowman with a top hat and pipe standing in the stall behind me.

  “The madness is seeping in. You will be one of us in no time,” it spoke.

  A cry sprang up my throat as I spun, the noise sticking in my throat when I searched each empty cubicle.

  No-no-no-no…this can’t be happening to me. I fell back against the sink, my lids squeezing together.

  “Alice?” The door squeaked open, my mom stepping in.

  I didn’t look up or move from my spot, not wanting to deal with answering her right now. There was nothing I could say.

  “Alice.” She said my name tentatively, moving in front of me. “What happened out there?”

  My shaky inhale was my only reply.

  “I am so scared right now,” she whispered hoarsely. “I don’t know what to do, and you are not talking to me.”

  “There’s nothing I can say,” I muttered.

  “Really? That’s your only response? After yesterday…then the episode earlier?” She grabbed my hands. “Alice, please. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this is serious. You acted as if you saw and heard something. Telling someone to shut up. No one was there. Do you understand why you are terrifying me? Self-harm? Hallucinations?”

  “Mom.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “You are not going to brush this off like you did the other night or blame it on being sick. I will not ignore both incidences, nor my mother’s intuition. You have been extremely depressed since you have come home.” Extremely? That seemed highly exaggerated. “You need to recognize there is something going on with you right now.”

  I had no argument, nothing I could say would soothe her. It was like the saner I felt, the more I was really sliding away from reality.

  “I am making an appointment for you to talk with someone.” She nodded, reassuring herself of the plan more than me. “We’ll nip this in the bud.” She squeezed my hands before running one of her hands down my face. “Sweetheart, we’ll do whatever we need to get you healthy again.”

  I watched her walk out, full of confidence, determination setting her shoulders back, her plan set in front of her. Her checklist to “curing” me mapped out in her head.

  All I could hear was, “we’ll do whatever” looping around my lungs, cinching in…

  Like a noose.

  Chapter 5

  Skipping dinner, I went straight to bed when we got home. I yearned to sleep, but anxiety flipped me all over my bed like a dying fish, listening to my parents argue and talk about me downstairs. Being twenty-five and regarded as no more than a toddler who couldn’t control their actions caused my need to run.

  The impulse to slip out the window, get on a train, and head back to the city had me jumping up several times to pack. Then the seeds of doubt would drop in my stomach and clamp down on my lungs, telling me I really might be going crazy and accepting help was the most responsible thing to do.

  The house grew quiet as the hours ticked by, while I watched the moon shift shadows across my bedroom floor. Though the necessity to escape itched at every muscle, for once I understood my impetuous need to flee would only make things worse for me, proving I had a reason to run.

  Shoving off my blanket, I wandered over to my wall, now pinned with my hat drawings. Reaching up, my fingers slid over the sketches, the pads of my fingers feeling the texture of my dried blood coloring in the scarves.

  An image of a man with glimmering blue eyes wearing the top hat, kept appearing in my head, like it had been made for him. Stepping right off the pages of a Dickens novel.

  Matt.

  My modern-day Scrooge.

  The moment his name drifted across my mind, I jerked toward the window, feeling a pull as if strings yanked at my gut. Nothing moved outside. The streetlamps and darkened homes along the lane looked like every other night. No sign of movement or life out in the freezing night, but instinct moved me to my dresser.

  Slipping on a pair of yoga pants, I tiptoed out my room and down the stairs, every creak making me pause, listening for any signs someone in the house was up and moving. Shoving my feet in boots, I pulled on my coat, scarf, hat, and gloves and slipped out the front door, doing the very thing I told myself not to do. But this desperate need to see him, to feel normal for a moment, was too powerful to fight.

  The icy air slammed down my throat and smacked my face like a boxer, forcing a hitch in my lungs as I tucked in deeper into my scarf. I stepped off my porch, my destination set. Uncertainty settled down on me the closer I got. Dark emptiness surrounded the apple tree in my neighbor’s yard, and my stomach sank.

  Did you think he was out waiting for you or something? Such an idiot, Alice.

  Trying to fight back the roaring wave of disappointment, I didn’t let my steps slow as I started to pass the house.

  “We need to stop meeting like this, Ms. Liddell.” His voice rumbled from the dark, concocting a strangled yip from my throat. “I might expose more of my secrets.”

  Moving from around the back of the tree, Matt leaned into the trunk, the swirl of smoke coiling around from the joint in his hand. Wearing something similar to what he did the night before, he looked even sexier than I remembered, not helping me regain my breath.

  “But more of your secrets is exactly what I’m after, Mr. Hatter.” The flirty tint coloring my words had my cheeks rushing with heat. “Otherwise my spy skills are for nothing.”

  “Well.” A glimmer of a cheeky smile tugged at his mouth. “We are at quite the impasse then, as I really don’t have many secrets to confess.”

  “Why do I think that’s a complete lie?” My boot crunched under the snow coating the lawn. “I have this feeling you have nothing but secrets.”

  His blue eyes stared into me, not answering, but the twitch of his jaw told me what I said was true.

  Identical to the night before, I reached out for the joint, our fingers rubbing against each other, sparking warmth in my veins. He didn’t fight as I got it from him, inhaling deeply, the smoke curling around like the creamer in my coffee.

  “I hope I’m not initiating a bad habit.” He nodded at me.

  “You are far too late to be a pioneer in my bad habits.” I took another drag, feeling the tension ease from my muscles. “I had them all down by my teens. If anything, I would be the instigator.”

  “Doubtful.” He smirked, taking it back. My gaze locked on his mouth as it curled around the roll. The desire to feel his lips on my body created a layer of sweat down my back. “Think I’ve been up to no good before you were even born.”

  “Please.” I scoffed. “What are you, thirty-five or something?”

  “Age is nothing but a number.” He tugged at his beanie, staring up at the sky. “I feel as if I’ve been around for centuries.”

  “Today I feel like that too.” I flicked my head to the footway. “Walk?”

  He moved off the tree, following me down the sidewalk. We passed several houses before I spoke. “Do you sneak out every night?” I realized my gaffe immediately. “I mean… I didn’t mean to insinuate you were sneaking…or you needed to.”

  “Why not? I am.” He exhaled up into the air before handing me the smoke. “I don’t remember if I always did…but since we’ve moved here…every night. The moment she’s sleeping deeply.”

  “You don’t remember? Maybe I should cut you off.” I tried to joke.

  He smiled, but it fell fast, never reaching his eyes. “I got very sick before we moved here. My fever reached such severe temperatures, it gave me a form of amnesia.”

  “Amnesia?” My attention snapped to him. He kept his head forward, frustration wrinkling his forehead. “Seriously?”

  “My past before moving here is mostly blank. Images, impressions, but nothing concrete. Every once in a while, a smell or object will trigger something, like it’s there waiting. But as soon as I try to grasp on to it…�
�

  “It slips through your fingers,” I finished, understanding so well what he was feeling.

  “Yeah.” He half turned to me, studying me in wonder as we continued to walk.

  “Believe me. I get it.” I took a puff, handing it back to him. “Nothing like you. I mean, I remember my past and even last week, but it’s strange that ever since I woke up after being ill, I feel something is missing. Like a chunk of time is gone, even though it isn’t.” My lashes fluttered, the strain of the day finally hitting me. “I know it must sound crazy.” I wagged my head.

  “Not at all.” Our pace remained slow but steady down the street. “Nothing sounds crazy to me right now.”

  I turned us down a path leading to the public park. A playground set spread over the lot, the swings creaking with the light breeze and freezing temperatures stiffening the chains. I sat down on the frozen plastic seat, cringing as the initial stab of cold seeped through my pants. Matt fitting himself on the seat next to me.

  “Didn’t even know this was here. I’ll have to bring Tim here sometime.”

  The mention of his kid twisted guilt in my gut like a knife.

  “Yeah. You should,” I replied, swinging back and forth. We stayed quiet for a moment before the weight on my chest became unbearable.

  “Something happened to me today.” I gulped. “Not sure why I’m telling you… You are practically a stranger.” And married. “You have your own issues.”

  “But?”

  “Huh?” I peered up at him.

  “There is a question mark at the end of your sentence.” His voice was low, his breath billowing out of his mouth.

  I glanced back at my feet, digging into the snow. “I don’t know why, but I feel comfortable talking to you. Everyone else would think me absolutely mad.”

  “And I won’t?”

  “No.” I turned back to him, our eyes locking for a few seconds before his head nodded in understanding.

  “I feel the same.” His gaze still latched on to me. “Jessica gets angry every time I bring up the past or ask questions, saying how much the experience upset her. Almost losing me. That I’ll remember in time, when my mind is ready.” He flicked up his eyes like he didn’t believe it for a moment. “She won’t even tell me how we met or about the moment when Timothy was born.”

  “Shit,” I whispered. “I can’t even imagine. Not to remember your son’s birth or even your wedding.”

  He stayed silent for so long I was convinced he no longer wanted to talk about it, but then he sucked in a breath, staring off into the night.

  “I look at Jessica.” He swallowed, talking quietly. “And I can’t for the life of me recall what made me fall in love with her.”

  Wow. How do I even respond to that? And I hated the part of me that wanted to scream, Because you aren’t. You’re not supposed to be with her.

  “I stare at our wedding photo, we look so happy, and…nothing. Not even a spark of familiarity.” He licked his lips. “It’s odd, right? You think of all things our wedding day should trigger something in my memory.”

  “Damn.” I curled my gloved fingers around the chain, leaning my head against it. “You win.”

  “Didn’t know we were in competition.” He tipped his head to me with a grin. “I guess before we declare the winner, you have to tell your story.”

  “It’s nothing.” I stretched my legs, pushing out the swing. His was a genuine loss of memory, while mine was a case of truly losing my mind. “Thought I saw something today. Something that wasn’t there.”

  “Like a hallucination?” He stopped moving, his interest sharp on me.

  “I think I’m going crazy…and what’s worse is I don’t feel crazy.” Fear croaked my voice as I faced him. “Isn’t that the true sign someone is losing their mind? Only the insane are so sure of their sanity?”

  He stopped moving, his brows furrowing. “Why do I feel I’ve heard that before?”

  “I don’t know.” I paused, trying to think where it came from. “Might be from a book or something?”

  His lips pinched together, adjusting on the seat, his spine rigid. “So…what did you see and hear?”

  “That’s the problem. I can’t really say. I thought some kids were messing with me. But there were no kids there. Everyone stared at me like I was several cards short of a deck. But it felt so real to me.” Emotion clotted my throat. “I’m scared. I feel like I am losing my sanity, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.”

  What was it about him that I couldn’t seem to stay away from? Married men in the city—I mean drop-dead gorgeous men—constantly hit on me at work, at bars, on the subway, but I had never gone there. I drew a hard line and never had a problem walking away.

  Matt Hatter changed that the moment he walked into my house. “Force beam” was the perfect phrase. Even when I tried to walk the opposite way, I seemed to find myself standing in front of him

  “Probably the lack of sleep, being sick, and possibly the pot the night before.” I tried to play it off with a wink. Though I knew in my gut he’d listen, the thought of him really thinking I was crazy would send me over the edge. He was this strange lifeline, and if I lost it, I would go down and drown underneath the paralyzing fear building inside me.

  “Don’t hide from me,” he rumbled, inclining closer to me, his intense expression making my heart thump noisily in my ears. The sensation of being like this with him previously captured my breath. Everything about him felt familiar, even the underlying sense of fear that of all the things dangerous in this world, he was the most threatening. It only added to my draw to him and the overwhelming desire to lose myself in him.

  As if he could read my every thought, my slight change in mood, his pupils expanded, darkening his eyes. His already intense focus zeroed in. Not thinking, I bit my bottom lip, causing his gaze to drop to my mouth. Lust infested my veins, turning my chilly body to boiling hot.

  The atmosphere strained with anticipation as if it was holding its breath. The condensation between us built as our breaths came quicker. I didn’t think I moved, but we still seemed to be getting closer. His warm breath stroking across my lips and cheeks.

  Eight maids a-milking. I wanted him to kiss me so bad it ached in my bones.

  “Alice,” he rumbled, his lips almost brushing mine. “I can’t…”

  “I know.”

  But neither of us moved away, our mouths only a breath apart, like we got caught in that force beam and had no control over our actions.

  A pained huff twisted from his chest and he sat back, closing his eyes. “I won’t be one of those cliché tales.” He crunched his teeth together. “My son is my world. My focus. He comes first.”

  “As he should.” My lids batted quickly, and I swallowed down the jab of rejection because he was right. We were completely in the wrong.

  “With my memory loss, I feel I’ve lost all this time with my son. I’ve been given this second chance, and I don’t want to waste a moment. I want to be the best father to him. And if Jessica—”

  “I get it.” I cut him off, knowing where he was going. If Jessica found out about us, she’d probably take Tim away from him.

  “You don’t know how much I wish the situation were different.” He exhaled, staring up at the stars.

  “Yeah.” I nodded, rising to my feet. “I do.”

  “We probably should stop this.” He stood, not meeting my eyes. “It would be for the best.”

  “Definitely.” I stared down at my snow-covered boots.

  “Do not seek me out.” His voice went firm, cold. An order. “Don’t even look at me if our paths cross.” Resentment twisted the muscles in his jaw as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t even think of me…”

  “Excuse me?” I stepped back, defensive anger straightening my spine. “Someone’s ego is a little inflated.”

  He stepped forward, looming over me.

  “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re wrong.” Insolence s
pat it out, flopping on the snow with little substance.

  He smirked. “You are a terrible liar.”

  “But you’re the one lying to yourself.”

  “I have to.” His boots hit mine as he snarled. “Hating me is the only way, Alice, because I can’t allow what I truly want.”

  He turned, stalking away from me, leaving me gasping for air. The whisper of the same words stabbed my mind, bending me over, grasping for reality. Suddenly I was laying on a soft white rug, the sound of a fire crackling blazing in the room. The smells of pine and cinnamon drifted into my nose, the taste of sugar cookies and mulled wine was on my tongue, and my lips still felt puffy from being kissed. Hard. The feel of him over me, touching me, uttering the identical sentiment flickered so forcefully in my brain, my knees dropped into the snow.

  The vision was gone as fast as it came, but the aftereffect was a strike to my stomach and head. Grappling to take in oxygen, I stared at the dirty snow, not feeling the wetness seeping through my leggings.

  Stunned by the onslaught to my senses, every detail of the vision felt so real. Even though I knew it couldn’t be, I still felt as if I tasted sweetness on my lips.

  Harsh snaps of air sucked in and out of my nose as I tried to get my feet back on solid ground. I sat back on my heels, letting my head drop back, a tear sliding down my cheek.

  In that moment, dread sank to the bottom of my belly, a boulder of truth. Hallucinations, visions, voices that felt as real as the world around you all amounted to one thing.

  I was falling.

  Down. Down.

  Into the darkness.

  Chapter 6

  Snowflakes fluttered across the windshield, pirouetting and skipping, acting out the Nutcracker ballet. Lost in the beauty of their delicate dance, I watched the drama play out.

  “Alice?” Mom touched my arm, jolting me away from the theater taking place outside the car. I didn’t even care that she looked at me with fear and pity. “You ready?”

  Nodding my head, I rolled my lips together. Was I ready to go sit in a chair where someone would ask me, “How does that make you feel?” or “Why do you think that?” until I really would actually lose my mind. Sure. I was ready.