The Radcliffe Asylum
I ’m about to lose the March for good, even before the police decide to barge in and kill us in less than two hours.
He is lying on his back, shivering and kicking like a mad child. He cups his ears, trying not to listen to His voice. Then shuts his eyes tight, hoping it will snap him out of his scary Wonderland memories.
In spite of my demanding need to enter his head and learn about my past through his memories, I end up doing the total opposite. I realize I cherish the March’s friendship too much to sacrifice anything else.
“Calm down, March.” I grip his hand tight. “You don’t have to continue the memory. Just snap out of it.”
“I can’t,” he screams. “It won’t leave me alone. It won’t.”
At least he is now aware of the situation. Earlier, he’d been so immersed in it he thought it was real. “You can.” I insist. “Just open your eyes and look at me.”
“I’m afraid to.”
“Think of it. If Him, I mean the Pillar, is scaring you in the memory then he isn’t here in the room. In real life.”
“What did you say?” His hands cup his ears again. It seems as if he’s affected by a loud noise from the memory.
I pull his hands away. “Listen to me! It’s just hallucinations. You’re safe here with me.”
“It’s a memory, not hallucinations, Alice. I’m trying to remember as much as I can.” The March tilts his head and glares at me. “And I’m not really safe with you here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” He shrugs. “You’ve done terrible things with Him.”
“I know.” How many times do I have to apologize for my past? “But I’m not that Alice anymore. I will take care of you. Want me to hide the writing on the wall? I think it’s what’s influencing your pain.”
The March relaxes a little. He props himself up and combs his white hair back with his hands. “Alice?”
“Yes, March?”
“How much time do we have left?”
“Not sure, but it’s less than two hours.”
“How about Constance?”
I look at the floor. “We’ve lost contact.”
“Poor Constance.”
“It’s my fault. But I won’t lose hope. Maybe she’s still alive.”
“I hope so, too,” he says. “But now that we have a little time left, I’ll have to ask you to do something terrible.”
“What?” I grimace.
“Listen to me.” He sounds like a child, but a saner one, full of wisdom. It’s strange. “I’m free of my memory’s influence now.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“And I haven’t seen enough.”
“It’s okay. I was selfish asking you to remember more.”
“No, you weren’t, because it helped me realize something. Actually, remember something, from my days in The Hole.”
“Like what?”
“I never lost my memories due to the shock therapy,” he says.
My heart slows down. I have a feeling he is going to drop a bomb on me. “Then what was it?”
“Lullaby pills,” the March says. “They fed them to me. Countless amounts. I remember thinking they were M&M’s or something. Sweetened lullaby pills.”
“Who gave them to you?”
“No one.”
“You lost me. I’m not following.”
“I gave them to me. It’s not clear why or what happened. But the memory of feeding myself the pills in The Hole attacked me while remembering Wonderland as a child. It all meshed together.”
“I wish you knew why.”
“I think I have an idea.” The March’s eyes show my reflection in them. Seeing myself, I remember his words: I will ask you to do something terrible.
“What is it?”
“I think I swallowed the pills after Black Chess installed the light bulb in my head.”
I’m not sure how to process that. I’ve never actually considered the light bulb to be real. “What are you trying to tell me, March?”
“I want you to access the memories in my head, Alice.” He pulls my hands near and pats them. “Please.”
“I’m not going to allow you to read the writing on the wall again.”
“Actually you will have to do worse,” he says. “Time is running out. I need you to dig into my head.”
“Worse like what?”
“Forget about the writing. I know how to get my memories back.”
Suddenly, I think I know what he is asking me. “No,” I say firmly, without even listening.
“Yes.” He squeezes my hands. “I may be a child inside, but my physical body is that of an old man. I don’t think I can handle the escape or whatever the police do when they enter.”
“We could always still push the button and lock ourselves in here.”
“Forever?” the March says. I feel like he is the adult, and I’m the child who needs convincing now. “You know you’re destined for much bigger things than a bunker for the rest of your life, Alice.”
I’m fighting the tears. Shaking my head. “No, I won’t do it.”
“It’s the only way. The shock therapy didn’t make me forget. It’s the opposite, if used on me, I’d remember things. That’s why they’ve used it on you too. They wanted you to remember the things they were looking for.” He stops for a breath. “If you want me to remember, Alice, you have to send me to the Mush Room and do to me what Waltraud did to you.”