A Teaspoon Of Stardust

Did the Mad Hatter Truly Know How Mad He Was?

°°°°UNEDITED°°°°

“      As you look around, for a simple friend just to hold to until you see the end. It's a little brighter now, than it was before. Maybe I can stitch up the seams, make things less sore.

                  - "Blinded", by me

I begin mumbling. Who am I again? What is this place? Everything in my mind has been erased except for the repetitive "There's a reason, gotta be a reason. There's a reason, gotta be a reason." I don't know why I'm saying it. Is it a song? All I know is that the words are something beautiful, something meant to keep me sane in this impossibly insane world. If they're what's gripping the last thread of my tragically falling sanity, why, I must ask, do I feel so mad? Surely, the hatter had known how mad he was. I, on the other hand, am stuck in a dream- nightmare, more like it- like state, caught somewhere half between losing myself and finding myself. It was utterly desperate.

It's quite amusing (in the most unamusing of ways), now that I look back on it all.

Unlike an odd sense of deja vu that wouldn't allow me to know anything other than the fact that this has happened before, I am completely aware of my body. I could feel, touch, and move every limb, toe, and finger. Before I realize I need to contain myself, I'm screaming. Whatever has happened to me- whoever I am- has caused me to feel an immense, painful guilt atop my shoulders. We're all burdened with our individual cross, forced to carry throughout life. Some, though, are larger than others. It depends on the strength and determination of the person, I suppose.

"Sssssssscarlett," A name is called through the static television noise around me. "Sssssssscarlett it's alright."

"I'm here now, I'm here."

My name is Scarlett Anne Murry. I'm seventeen years old. I'm cursed. My great grandmother is a witch. She's a good witch. Dylan is my best friend. He is dead. Evangeline is from my nightmares. She's a bad witch. Luke likes Rebecca. I like Luke. I don't love Luke. Evangeline wants to kill me. I'll never feel love. I'm going to die. As long as Luke lives-

"Scarlett!"

"D-dead?" I whispered. "He can't be dead."

Oh my God.

There isn't a single trace of sympathy in her, and I feel my lip quivering. Luke's arm is holding onto me- tight and comforting. I need him here with me. I don't care about anything that happened before, because quite frankly at the moment, none of it had even registered yet and all I could think about was how Dylan was dead.

Angry tears spilled from my eyes as I gripped Luke's arm tightly. I felt so weak every time I was around him. I cried, and Luke always hushed me. I would have a nasty panic attack, and Luke patiently helped me through it. Every single damn time something went wrong, Luke was there witnessing my most vulnerable moments and I hated it. I couldn't help being this way.

"You did this! You killed him! He was my only friend in this enti-"

Luke kissed the top of my head, murmuring a calming shhh into my hair. I quiet down immediately, telling myself it's simply because I need to wipe my blurry eyes so that I could see but I know it's only since Luke knew how to control me. I don't even know how to control myself, how does he?

I felt woozy again, the head ache, room spinning, can't see straight type that I felt when I first met Luke. "Would you look at that? I guess it does work."

Evangeline spoke up finally, staring at us with a sadness in her eyes that I did not expect.

She no longer looks intimidating and dangerous, but weak and depressed. "You're uh, cousin." She started quietly, seeming distracted and unfocused on the conversation. "He's been dead for nine years. I knew that you'd trust me if I came in his form, and I needed to be close to you in order to prevent anything from happening with Luke. I don't know how he died."