The Mad Ones (A One Direction Fan Fiction)

Chapter Twelve - The Mad Bunch

            “Tell me again who they are?” I asked Harry, and if he had been annoyed with my pestering he didn’t show it. We were discussing the revolution, and he was attempting to remind me of some of the people were apart of it. There were hundreds apparently, and that’s something that rattled me a bit.

            I knew Wonderland wasn’t exactly right, but they let a girl who actively had hallucinations run an army. To their credit they didn’t know I was a tad more mad than the rest of them, but still.

            “The Mad Hatter, she’s one of your friends,” He started, passing me a cup of tea. I was sitting in a table inside of Gemma’s home, Harry fussing over me, while Gemma was god knows where. “Goes by Hattie, bit kooky, but means well.” I felt a flicker of something in my mind, but it was of the other reality, so I quickly shoved it away. I was content with Wonderland, and I didn’t need two places.

            Logically that would make sense if logic allowed multiple worlds.

            Well it might. I never had time to watch those documentaries.

            Oh yeah, because I was either in a mental institution or captured by The Red Queen.

            “Hattie’s the one that one guy’s hopelessly in love with right?” I asked, and Harry nodded, finishing up with his own cup. “And said guy’s name would be?” I asked Harry, and he sat down in the chair opposite me.

            “Liam,” he answered, and I nodded, swirling a tea lead around with my pinkie. “Where Hattie is, Liam is, making sure she doesn’t break again.” I laughed, taking a sip of my drink.

            No flicker with his name, that’s a good thing.

            “Do you remember anyone?” Harry asked, hiding a pleading voice by coating with it with a joking laugh. I bit my lip, thinking. There was someone I remembered, but she may have been in the other reality. I couldn’t be sure. I looked at Harry, the raw hope in his eyes, and I blurted it anyway.

            “Chester?” I asked, trying out the name. His eyes lit up.

            “Well, The Cheshire Cat, but you’re awfully close,” he further explained.

            “Cat?” I asked, remembering a teen boy.

            “Cat,” I confirmed, and I decided not to mention I had a image of him in my mind.

            “Speaking of cats, there’s Cat. Lazy thing, but awful smart,” he continued in explanation.

            “Two cats?” I asked, mind whirling. We were talking about people in the revolution … people. This was hurting my brain.

            “No, one cat, one caterpillar,” he corrected and my right brow rose.

            “Caterpillar,” I said, trying it out on my tongue. I had a caterpillar in my revolution.

            “Well, she used to be a caterpillar. We thought she was turning into a butterfly, but it turned out she was just cursed,” he explained. I nodded, because that made a lot of sense.

            “So you’re saying that a girl came out a cocoon?” I asked, trying not to imagine the imagery.

            “You were there actually, helped her get out,” he told me, with hopeful eyes once more. No spark or flicker of a memory though. I had always lived with some degree of self-loathing, in my hallucinations I guess, but the worst I felt was when I couldn’t dig up the reality.