The Mad Ones (A One Direction Fan Fiction)

Prologue- Creatures of Habit

“Noelle,” Chester sang, causing the towheaded girl beside me to flinch. Whenever Chester said anything it caused uneasiness, the way his gravely voice strained words was like listening to fingernails on a chalkboard. “Noelle,” he continued, but she just turned around on her old cracking chair and looked at the wallpaper, stained with whatever had been through this place for the past coupe hundred years. “No-“ Chester started once more, but Hattie gave him a look and he stopped, looking down at the ground.

“Noelle it’s ok,” I muttered, and she turned her head towards me, her brown eyes full of discontent. She gulped, and slowly pivoted herself around, back towards the rest of us. 

If any of us were close to sane it’d be Noelle, her timid personality set her apart from the others. She was quiet normally and easily scared, and she was oldest of us by a few years. We’d never asked her personally, even if we were familiar with each other, but I’d say she was nineteen, maybe twenty. 

The rest of us were wavering around sixteen and seventeen, but we never actually know how much time passes here, there are no clocks and Scarlett, the women who runs everything isn’t actually the type to make sure we knew our current events.

The only one we knew for a fact was a certain age was Dora, just a mere ten years old, and new here, probably about a week or two. Hattie had taken over with her, making sure she was ok, which none of us thought would be that good for Dora, or even Hattie.

Hattie was without a doubt bipolar. She’d be the sweetest person in the world sometimes and others you’d think she was a murderer of sorts, like she actually belonged here. 

Then there was Chester, the only boy here, and he wasn’t bipolar, but he was just creepy, plain creepy. He’s that guy who walks by your house at night and watches you. Yep, that’s Chester for you. He’s pretty smart though, he once almost got out of here, but of course Scarlett wouldn’t have that, she’s kept us locked up at all costs.

“Hey is Cat awake?” Hattie asked, putting down her plastic tea set that she’d cleaned up for Dora and going over to the ratty old couch where a girl with jet black hair was lying, her eyes shaded, but not entirely closed.

“Probably not,” Dora said, and she reminded me of a mouse when she talked. Her voice was high pitched and squeaky, and she so small, even for her age. “She’s always out of it,” she added, and Hattie frowned, pushing her curly red hair behind her ear and scooping Dora up, bringing her away from Cat and back over to the tea set area, where a few rather damaged stuffed animals sat, their button eyes drooping and their stuffing falling out.

“Don’t get to close to her,” Hattie reminded quietly, and I felt kind of bad for Hattie. She was protective of Dora to the furthest extent, and it made me think that she may have had a little sister before she came here. 

I also felt bad for Cat, although she caused harm on herself. She’d found this old pipe one day, and some blue stuff in a few packets. I think it’s something like tobacco but it took a further effect on her. Due to the fact that she would go in the bathroom we all shared, and take the two things and put them together, playing with the old matches that she found on the windowsill when I first got here, she was sick. She was tired all the time and out of it. I’m pretty sure Scarlett and the other nurses knew about her little problem, but I’m also pretty sure that they didn’t mind, because they just kept us so we didn’t interfere with the world. We could mess each other up, we just couldn’t mess the world up.

Then there was me, but there’s not a lot to know about me. My name is Alice. That’s all. I’m not very interesting. 

“Dinner,” I heard a voice sing and all at once we all looked toward the heavily locked door, separating the five of us from the lobby of the small mental institution. We were actually the only patients here, and they didn’t do much to treat it, and institution sounds much to official for this piece of rotting wood adorned with metal beams and locks. It was a madhouse, more of less, and we were mad, but we were creatures of habit, and our habits were sitting in a dark room with people who had problems.

So naturally, we were pretty messed up people.

“Chester, your mum’s here,” a voice said after a few trays of oddly colored food slides in through a slot, “Nurse Gemma will take you out ok.” Slowly the door creaked open, after a series of the clicking and clinching of locks, and the tall brunette nurse appeared, watching us carefully as she went over to Chester and brought him out of the room.

I don’t really understand why Chester gets visits while the rest of us don’t, it’s not like he can behave himself better, he’s tried to escape more times than Dora can probably count. If anyone should have visits it should be Noelle, but of course, no one really knows if anyone has someone to visit them.

The one thing that really gets me about this mad house though, it’s run by the mad. Scarlett, or the red queen as we like to call her behind her back, she’s crazy. There are a lot of factors to her insanity, more factors then Dora could count as well, but one thing that always gets us is the fact she likes us to believe we’re all in a place of magic and fantasy, a place called Wonderland, where we belong.

It’s twisted because a place called Wonderland is reason I’m here. 

Scarlett knows this.

Scarlett doesn’t want to help us.

But Nurse Gemma does, Noelle told me.

Nurse Gemma wants us out.

And who are five mad girls and boys to say otherwise.