adventures inbetween

8/13/2019 Adventures Inbetween

1/59


2/59

Your dedication is engrained in your

character. Your selflessness and

genuine concern for others shines

through you. Thank you for teaching

us. Thank you for the scribblers and

the notes of encouragement and the

beautiful grammar tutorials youvehelped us through. Thank you for

making us dress up on Halloween and

telling us that were awesome on days

when we needed to hear it. Thanks for

creating this environment that people

shine in. Thank you for the lessons

youve taught us. We cant wait to see

you go far. You will. We wish you the

best of luck on your new adventures.

Stay golden.


3/59


4/59


5/59


6/59


7/59


8/59


9/59

Fritz wants peace; thats what hes

searching for in avoiding all the

glamour, than fandom. He just

wants to be him in the quietness ofhis soul.

Strephon wants to find the end of

the puzzle, the last slide of the rubix

cube, and the payoff of this

incredible mental dilemma. He

wants to solve something that cant

be solved.

There was once a country full of many good

people, and many bad. The gods ruled over them,

but let them have their way, saving all

punishment and rewards for the life to come.

There, they sorted out the Brown, Hazel, Green,

Blue, and Violet Eyes according to their souls,

their deeds, and blessed or cursed them again

and again. Or so men thought.

The rulers and governors of this land rose

up and conspired together, taking words from thegods books, and transforming them, stainingthem, with their greed. Soon, all men were forced

to abide by these false laws. And then I was born.

I was born to riches, to love, and to

handsomeness. I was also born with eyes as

brown as the loam in the garden. The brown

overtook my riches, my last name, and made me

ugly. It made me a slave.

I was beat down. I was robbed.

I was a slave.

--Nadua Esterling, first Governor of

Representation of Pervetia


10/59

Her father stirred his cup of coffee.

Mother didnt do it for him anymore, the wayshe used to. Her mother didnt do much

anymore. Even now, sitting a chair downfrom fathers place at the head of the table,

she only stared at the tabletop, her eyes blue

and vivid and silent. Her father kept stirring

his coffee.

Nadua glanced up through long

strings of black hair, up at the clinking sound

of her fathers spoon. He whipped the rim of

his mug with the side of the utensil and

placed it to the side, on the silk napkin

Medera had laid there for him last night, as

she always did, when cleaning and preparingthe kitchen. Shes an excellent slave, her

father had remarked one day, many years

ago, when Nadua wandered into the kitchen.

She hadnt thought hed noticed her

entrancehe never didbut then hed

looked up and leveled those crisp blue eyes

on her and said, Make sure you do at least

half as well as Medera, girl. Laziness is an

ugly trait. Especially in a Brown Eyes.Nadua didnt remember if shed

responded. Then again, she didnt remembersaying much. Even now, she wasnt sure if it

was her voice sitting in her throat, or a clump

of tears shed left to the last minute.

Her mother looked up. Nadua bowed

her head so their eye colors wouldnt clash.The Bright Eyes will be here soon.

That was her father; Nadua knew the voice,

as foreign and barren as its notes were. Go

out and wait, child. And remember to work

hard. No one likes a lazy slave, now do they?

He sipped the coffee, and the sound was loud,

like a period at the end of a rhetorical

question.

No sir, Nadua said, and wasnt quitesure how. Laziness is an ugly trait.

He said no more, so neither did she.

Empty-handed, Nadua turned out of the

kitchen and faced the foyer. Something

shifted behind her.

Slowly, head bowed, Nadua glanced over

her shoulder. The line of a blue dress was

taut behind her, a flag without wordsher

mothers dress dangling about her thin bodyas she stood. Nadua turned fully and,

making sure not to meet her mother in the

eyes, watched her silent, standing figure.

She still said nothing. Nadua wasnt sure if

she ever had, or ever would.

Her fathers free hand, the one not turning

the pages of todays newspaper, reached out

and took the womans wrist. Without aword, she sat back down in her chair, in the

sunlight of the window. The light blackenedher face into a silhouette, and whitened her

golden hair into a halo.

Nadua knew what that meant. She

turned away and, knees trembling, managed

to walk herself out of the kitchen.

She turned into the foyer and found

Medera standing there, between her and the

door, like a gateway. Nadua swallowed hard

the moment her nannys warm, and cursed,

brown eyes crinkled. Tears filled those aged

eyes. Nadua pressed her lips together,against her teeth, and wished she had

something in her hands to distract hera

bag for the journey, the warm hand of her

little sister, the large, strong hand of her

older brother. But Ben and Trillie were

upstairs, like they were supposed to be,

good Blue Eyes following the Doctrine. And

she wasnt allowed to keep anything going

to the Penitentiary. Nothing, of course,

except for her Brown Eyes.

Medera opened her wide, ebony

arms as the light of the windows traced the

tight spirals of her black hair. Come erebaby, she whispered.


11/59

Nadua threw herself across the floor and

landed in her nannys arms.Nadua clung to Medera. Couldnt there

be a way to hide away in the warm heartbeat,

the leathery skin, the kind wrinkles? She buried

her face in her bosom and closed her burning

eyes. No tears came, but the knot in her throat

strangled her all the same. She pressed her

fingers into her nannys back, struggled tobreathe against the time limit, and then

suddenly surrendered.

She dangled limply in Mederas arms,

and accepted the two swift knocks at the front

door.

The Bright Eyes.

After fifteen years of waiting, they were

finally here. Mederas arms tightened around

her just as her knees gave way.

Medera followed her to the ground.

Nadua meant to get up; she meant to stand andbrush herself off, to walk willingly to the door,

bow her head, and let them take her away and

make her into the servant she was born to be. It

was the only thing she was good for. She was a

Brown Eyesworking, slaving, for the Lighter

Eyes, the blessed souls, was the only thing that

could redeem her. But those two knocks were

vibrating in her knees. Her mouth was open,

with no sound, and she didnt understand why.

She could only crouch there, between Mederas

arms, mute.

Steps sounded from the stairs to her

right. Father, Nadua thought, and she wrenched

herself to a stand, her silent heart suddenly

screaming in her chest. Medera took her by the

shoulder to help her stay upright, but it wasnther father. Instead, the black line of a crisp suit

and feathery outline of dusky hair streaked down the

stairs, and Ben rushed the front door. She watched

him over Mederas shoulder, mouth still open, as he

yanked the door open.

Im sorry gentleman, He spat,politely, at the twoBright Eyes standing just beyond the doorjamb. But

theres no need for your services today. Im afraidshes not here. Try next door. He slammed the door

shut.Naduas breath came back with a sudden,

frightening wave, as Ben turned to face her. His hair

was in disarray, his pale skin flushed. He dropped his

hand off the doorknob, took a long, dark breath, and

stared straight into her eyes.

She shook her head. He nodded hard. Then

Medera turned to him, head bowed, and muttered,

Master Ben, you must stop. Please dont make it this

any harder on Miss Nadua.

Ben set his hair, combing it back into position,

and straightened his suit jacket. I dont know whatyou mean. He darted around Medera and came

straight for Nadua. She jumped, but didnt avoid his

hand as it captured her wrist. He stared into herand she, terribly, let him. His mouth opened, but

that escaped was, Nadua, I wont before thei

fathers, Ben, come here, drowned him.

He stopped. She felt his joints lock, cold a

pale, around her hand. She shook her head again

with a sound she didnt recognize dripping from

mouth, bowed her head. His hand hesitated. Why

he done this in the first place? His hand slipped o

knuckles and the warm throb of his pulse disapp

They both knew their father. And they both knew

eyes were brown, while his were blue.


12/59

She watched his polished shoes skate backwards, slowly,

across the mahogany floor. She closed her eyes and tried

to un-see it.

There were two more knocks at the door.

Nadua turned to face them, shaking as Ben

retreated. She could feel him distance himself, and shewas too raw to feel anymore. She didnt look Medera in

the eyes as she headed for the door, either. Because she

couldnt. So she took the door knob in hand, hissing

slightly when the cold burned.The door opened silently, the hinges not even

daring to creak. Then there was nothing but the Bright

Eyes, as straight and majestic and untouchable as the

history of Pervetia itself, filling the door way. Nadua

stumbled back a step and stared at the glory of their

eyes. It hurt; the one on the left narrowed his piercing

blue eyes on her, and they glittered viciously, like the sky

itself was rebuking her. She froze, her veins creaking

against her skin, before dropping her head and lowering

herself. Mederas hand touched between her shoulder

blades. Nadua closed her eyes to breathe that in, paused,

and let it go. Two more steps, and that love would be

gone. And, like Medera had said for years, there wouldnt

be any waiting for her in the Penitentiary.

It make survivin a great harder thing to do if you

love somethin or someone in the Penitentiary, Nadua

mouthed to herself. They were the words that filled her

morning, her afternoons, her nights. And now, they were

coming true. She straightened slightly and shuffled

forwards, watching the Bright Eyes shining black

loafers.Nadua Esterling? One asked.

She hesitated before murmuring, in a voice that

was too quiet to be sure it was her own, Just Nadua, sir.Excellent, the other said. His voice was too big,

and Nadua cringed under its weight. Come, Brown Eyes.Well arrive in two hours.

They turned in time and led the way down the

porch steps. She stepped forward, onto the threshold,

and held her breath. The sun streamed down on the

stone masonry before her, and the shadows of the foyer

leaked down behind her.You can do it, baby. Mederas voice was

bleeding.

Nadua froze, stabbed and quivering with the

words. She shook her head. Her hands trembled as the

Bright Eyes pulled farther and farther ahead of her, onto

the sidewalk.

She whirled around, head jerking straight up. She

shook her head and her hands and her voice as she

screamed, I cant do it, Medera. Please dont make me. Icant--


13/59

Good baby, Medera murmured andkissed her forehead. Nadua knotted her

fingers in the front of her apron. Remember

what I taught you and obey your masters, but

baby, never in your heart. You understand

Miss Nadua? Never in your heartHurry up, Dirt! The Bright Eyes

called.

Nadua couldnt look behind her. She

tried with all her might, but her fingers were

in Mederas apron, and it was so warm her

joints wouldnt let go. Mederas hands camearound her shoulders, squeezed, and let go.

She didnt hang onto her. She silently offered

her up, full of years of memories and smiles

and understanding. The only protection she

could offer. Nadua took it, and looked behind

her.

Medera clasped her cheeks. Nadua struggled,

somewhere in her belly, as the womans grip

stopped the rabid shaking. Medera drew her in

close, staring hard into her eyes, with as much

honesty and kinship as Nadua knew she would

never again find. You can, baby, she whispered.You can do it all, and be brightah than all dem

Blue Eyes boys and gals put togethah. Tears

pulled out of her eyes, and shone on her ebony

cheeks, highlighting the smile that trembled atthe edges. De gods will bless you like dey bless

me, and in de end, maybe we be forgiven. Alright

baby? She nodded.

Nadua gasped until the panic swarmed

back inside, and she swallowed it down. Carefully,

she watched Mederas leaking brown eyes, the

cursed color, the filthy soul, sorrowing for its

state. Her state. She nodded.

The Bright Eyes were heading for her.

She met them at the bottom of the porch and

let them have their way. They grabbed her,each taking an arm, and dragged her across

the sidewalk, wearing her new boot soles

against the concrete. Then, when they

reached their car, they threw her inside. She

gasped as her head hit something wrong, and

she tumbled, feet flying over her head. Doors

slammed.


14/59

Nadua thrust herself upward, flying towards the

door, and plastered herself against the window.

Her breath misted the glass, but just above the

fogged circle, she could see the outline of Medera,

crumpled in the threshold, clutching the place in

her apron where shed entwined her fingers.

Nadua pressed her hands against the glass as the

car started and rumbled in her feet. A bit to the

left, in the front window beside the door, anotherfigure stood. Nadua pressed her hands against the

glass. Dressed in blue, mouth closed and blessed

eyes wide open, stood her mother.

They took off down the street. Nadua threw

herself against the backseat, peering out the

thin slate of window. Both figures

disappeared with the distance, but she didnt

move. Eventually, her neighborhood stretched

out into the outskirts of the city, until

civilization even forgot itself, and the dried

plains took over. Her body turned around, sat

down, and laid back into the seat. Her bodywatched the landscape transform into arid

dirtdesert.

Nadua watched her life fall behind her.

It hadnt taken two hours to arrive.

It had taken nearly four.

The sun seared through the

Naduas window, burning her arm,

but she didnt move out of its direct

stare. She was going to live here for

the next three months and, like

Medera had said, it was best to open

yourself up to the desert than resist

it. She glanced out her window as

the car came to a stop. Outside there

was nothing but wind, heat, and thefilth of the dried ground.

Out, Dirt, one of the Bright

Eyes snapped. Both exited the

vehicle without another word and

with a unified slam.

Nadua obeyed. It took both

arms and a leg to push the door

open against the wind, but she

finally pried her way out, and

winced as the sandy air scathed

across her pale skin.This way! Another called.

Nadua turned forward,

facing south she guessed, and

stopped dead. As the wind cleared a

path through the sand and dried

earth, she found the baked walls of

the Penitentiary.

It wasnt a single building like she had pictured. Itwas the way Medera had describedseveral

buildings, each singular and solitary and burning

with noise that barely managed to puncture

through the hot wind. She heard clattering and the

vague sound of hordes of movement. To her left,

past the closest, domed building, she found the

largest construction in milesthe Main Charterbuilding, she decided. Medera said it was the

biggest. It was the place where, in three months

time, she would be sold for the first time at

market.Dirt! This way! The Bright eyes hollered,

and even the wind lessened in respect to let their

voices through.

Nadua ducked her head and followed after

them, her boots hot and her lungs sandy. She

found the back of their polished loafers and

shadowed them, not daring to look up and

accidentally meet their blessed eyes again. They

led her through the desert, past other cars with

brassy headlights similar to their own, and to the

closest domed building.

The doors were heavy cast-iron creatures with handles

plated in white rubber, for easy handling. It took both Bright

Eyes to press into the weight of the gateway and release the

smell of burning metal and melting iron. Nadua froze as a

smelting wind blew in from the building, pressing her hair

back from her face.

The Bright Eyes stood a part, framing the threshold.

Welcome to the Penitentiary.


15/59


16/59

e

onderland


17/59

Please?No!Please!Okay!Really?No.

I loved messing with Mary.

She glared up at me from her steamy

hot cup of free apple cider; her face looking

horrid with all the fake gashes and blooddripping down her chin. Shed even gone so

far as to put red goo in her pristine raven

locks: a feat I would never dare to do with my

own blonde mane. When she barged through

of cocoa delirium that came with little bat

marshmallowswhile trying to ignore the puppy

dog face Mary gave me.

Im not going, so dont even bother.But why? she whined, her fake swollen lips forminga pout that wouldve normally been endearing, but

now just looked disturbing.

A costumebonfire up in the woods where theres no

service? Are you kidding me?Thats why theres the cabinduh! How many timeshave we gone over this?

You keep asking, so Id say not enough

my bedroom door that

morning shouting, Happy

Halloween! I thought shed

seriously injured herself.

It was an annual

tradition among the owners of

the Arkham Coffee Shop togive every person who walked

through the door wearing a

costume a free apple cider. The

place was brimming with

ghosts and ghouls each

huddled around their little

tables with various mugs of

warm beverages while

cinnamon wafted around us like

a cloud of invisible smoke. I,

however, was not one of them.

Donned in my usual winter attire, I

indulgently sipped at my not-so-free

drink of the month: the Count

Choculaa rich, delicious beverage


18/59

Clarks uncle owns a sweet

cabin just a few miles from the

party. Its perfect! Well go get our

dance on for a few hours, and then

spend the rest of the night in a cozycabin.Im not staying the night, Mare!Why? Cause we would be out past

your beloved hour of midnight,

which you cant seem to handle?Something like that

In all honesty there was a

real reason for why I couldnt stay

out past midnight. I was a danger to

myself and everyone around meonce the hands on the clock hit that

fateful hour, but I could never tell

Mary. This wasnt something shecould ever understand. I couldnt

understand it myself.

This isnt some psycho

Cinderella story, Alice! Its just one

night! Everyone is going to be

there!

Is everyone going to jump

off a cliff, too? Cause if they are,sign me up! Honestly, Mary

wouldve jumped off of the Titanic

and into the frigid, cold waters if she

saw everyone else doing it.

Thats not funny.

Im not tryingto be funny.Im serious, I really dont wantto go,and I know the only real reason you

want to go is because Jasons going

to be at the cabin too, and you just

want me to go as your wing

mangirl.Mary opened her mouth to

retort, but closed it.

Oh yes, I had her now. Jason

and Mary had been doing the tango

of twitterpation for well over a

semester, neither one of them

wanting to admit the feelings they

shared for the other. He was the

blond-haired pretty boy who flirted

with just about anything that wore

heels, and she was the exotic sirenwith enough energy to put Xcel out

of business. Together they formed

the odd couple that never was, but

really needed to be so that the rest

of us could remain sane.

What about Clark? Youre

not going to let him suffer through a

night as the third wheel, are you?

I hated when she brought

him up. Clark was one of my closest

friends, next to Mary. Our friendshipwas mainly formed by the fact that

both of our roommates were

mentally insane when they were

together, and in order to keep our

own sanity, we sought solace in

each others company. He was smart

and clever, which made sense

considering he wanted to become a

psychiatrist. He even had the odd

quirk of carrying around a clipboard

with him wherever he went; thoughIm not sure what exactly he wrote

in the thing, he never showed me no

matter how many times I asked.


19/59

With the way you and Jasonfight? Hed be more of a referee

than a third wheel. I told her

without missing a beat as I took

another sip from my chocolately

beverage.

Her eyes narrowed down

at me, causing a bit of fake blood

to drip down her forehead.

I just about choked onmy drink.

Serves you right, she

said, leaning back with her arms

folded. The door behind me

chimed as another customer

came in. I watched in fascination

as her whole stance changed.

She tossed her hair back; her

cheeks suddenly flushed a rosy

pink.

Jason strutted through

the coffee shop toward the

counter; smug and cocky as

usual in what appeared to be a

James Dean costumeif you can

call sunglasses and a leather

jacket a costume. His

gargantuan state championship

ring glistened on his finger as he

gave the chick behind the counter

one of his stupid smiles. The kind

he gave to every other girl and

their mom on campus. She

blushed beneath his gaze and

shyly handed over his free apple

cider.

As he turned to leave, he

caught sight of Mary in all of her

bloody glory and winked as he

passed by, leaving without saying

a word.

Mary sighed.

I did too, but that sigh quickly

turned into a gasp as a wave of

gravity crashed into my body,

pushing me back until I was

almost level with my stool. Painful

bursts of color swirled about as I

closed my eyes and struggled to

lift the gauzy veil from my mind.

Brief images flashed in front of

me: a wallbright whitea

syringeThe vision was so clear

that when I opened my eyes, a

great, white wall loomed up in

front of me. Startled, I squeeze

my eyes shut and shook the ha

from them. When I opened my

eyes again, the elaborate holid

decorations of the caf were o

more before me.

A single light flickered

above my head: the only one i

the entire place that was doinso.

Did anybody catch that

I sat up and glanced at

Mary; she blissfully continued

sip at her drink, oblivious as to

what happened just like

everyone else around me.

I groaned as I placed m

head down upon the cold,

smooth service of the table.

Whats the matter wityou? Marys voice reached mear, but I didnt look up. It figu

that she notices my attempt at

embedding my face into a tabl

but when Im almost knocked

my chair due to some unnatur

force, shes completely unawa

of what is going on.


20/59

Good question, I said to

the table. Honestly, what was wrong

with me? It wasnt anywhere

midnightwhat did the images

mean?

Hey, Wonderland, afamiliar voice said, pulling out the

stool next to me. I jumped up and

scowled as Clark seated himself

down, wearing a doctors lab coatwith a stethoscope and his handy-

dandy clipboard. He knew darn well

how much I hated that nickname.

Mary, he added. Youre

looking rather grotesque this

evening.She practically bounced out of

her chair. Guess what I am!

Clark eyed her up and down, his

hand pressing against his lips as he

took her costume into greatconsideration.

I rolled my eyes and returned to

my drink.

A dead person?Close! Im Bloody Mary!Nice. Clark clasped her hand.

Very clever. You wearing thattonight?Of course! What about you?Im staying in the doctor uniform.

Isnt the theme for the bonfiretonight Heroes and Villains? I

chimed in, twirling my spoon

around my cup. A doctors not

really a hero.Well, I thought about dressing up

as Superman, but that wouldve

been a bit too obvious, he said with

a grin.

I smiled back, knowing

exactly what he meant. It was no

secret around campus that Clarkwould make the perfect Superman.

He had that whole Brandon-Routh-

Superman-Returns-thing going for

him with his perfectly coiffed brown

hair and eyes that made the sea look

pollutednot that I ever checked

him out or anything. He even wore

glasses from time to time; those

black rimmed ones that so many

stylish people wore these days.


21/59


22/59

What about a ride? I have

no way of getting there.

I swear I could hearthe grin

on her face.

Clark is already on his wayto get you.

Standing in our bathroom, I

shook my head. What was I going to

do with that girl?

A strange beeping noise

reached my ears, followed by the

lights flashing on and off, just like

they did at Arkham. I set my phone

down on the counter, ignoring

Marys voice.

As I contemplated this

strange phenomenon, my head

suddenly became heavy; the sink

grew abnormally large. I dug my

hands into the counter to retain mybalance as the room whirled around

me.

Nonot again.

A crunching noise echoed

through my dizziness, bringing me

back to reality. I took in a deep

breath before opening my eyes.

I gasped.

A chunk the size of a baseball

was missing out of the counter, the

crumbling piece held firmly in mygrasp.

I glanced up at the clock

9:00three hours before midnight.

The symptoms were getting

worse.

Picking up my phone again, I

tried speaking to Mary, but there

was no one on the other line.

What about a ride? I have

no way of getting there.

I swear I could hearthe grinon her face.

Clark is already on his way

to get you.

Standing in our bathroom, I

shook my head. What was I going to

do with that girl?

A strange beeping noise reached

my ears, followed by the lights flashing on

and off, just like they did at Arkham. I set

my phone down on the counter, ignoring

Marys voice.

As I contemplated this strange

phenomenon, my head suddenly became

heavy; the sink grew abnormally large. I

dug my hands into the counter to retain

my balance as the room whirled around

me.

Nonot again.

A crunching noise echoed through

my dizziness, bringing me back to reality.

I took in a deep breath before opening my

eyes.

I gasped.

A chunk the size of a baseball was

missing out of the counter, the crumbling

piece held firmly in my grasp.I glanced up at the clock9:00

three hours before midnight.

The symptoms were getting

worse.

Picking up my phone again, I tried

speaking to Mary, but there was no one

on the other line.

My eyes caught on a container of

white clown make-up. It was certainly

doable if I went with the Heath Ledger

version: just put some scars on mycheeks, some lipstick, eyeshadowyeah,

it could work.

Tossing the rest of the make-up

back into the never-ending bag of stuff, I

began the transformation from normal to

s cho ath s readin on a lob of white


23/59

Satisfied with my work, I skippedoff to my bedroom and pulled out my

laptop, Googling images of the Joker to

see what he wore. While I scanned

through each picture, paying very close

attention to detail (he had a thing for

purple and green apparently), I came

across something interesting: someonephotoshopped a picture of a blonde girl

wearing black and red with a jesters hat

standing beside the Joker.

Further investigation led me to

the name of Harley Quinn, the Jokers

girlfriend.

Ha! Perfect!

By the time Clark texted me to

announce his presence in front of the

apartment, I was looking good. Id

tossed my hair into some messy pig tails,thrown on a layer of green and purple

shirts, a green vest, and a nice black

skirt that came just above my knee with

a bit of tulle underneath. Add some torn

up leggings and combat boots and voila!

Harley Quinn.

When I hopped into Clarks car,

he gave me the once over before

nodding his head in approval. The

Joker, I like it.

I frowned at him. TheJokerdoesnt wear pig tails! Try again.

Uhha girl Joker?

I take it back; he was not clever

at all.

No! Im Harley Quinn.Clark started up the engine.

Am I supposed to know who that is?

I dont know. Youre the onewhos all into superheroes. I thoughtyoud know.

Hey, my forte is Superman, not

Batman.Well, shes the Jokers girl and a

psychiatristyoud like her.

He chuckled. Is that so?

We spent the rest of the drive up to the

woods discussing the origins of Harley Quinn

and the possibility of a psychiatrist falling for

their patient.

Its all about Stockholm Syndrome,really, Clark told me once we reached the site,

and he found a place to park.The blaze from the bonfire shot up high;

a massive circle of flames gorging itself on old

couches and firewood. Melted chocolate and

burnt hotdogs led a trail straight to the fire,

making the monster inside my stomach growl

in appreciation. It was amazing to see the

amount of adults dressed in costume. There

were several superheroes of course, some

people had even showed up just wearing a

superhero T-shirt, and a few villains scattered

here and there. What was really surprising wasthe amount of people dressed up as everyday

heroes like Clark: firefighters, policeman, and

way more doctors than I thought possible.

I took one step out of the car when Mary

pounced on me.

Oh my gosh, you look great! A female

Joker, thats so clever!I groaned. Was I seriously the only

person who knew about Harley Quinn? Before I

could retort, Clark quickly intervened.

Shes Harley Quinn, the Jokers lady

yes, he has onecan we move on? Im

freezing.You shouldve brought a coat then, I

told him, wrapping my own tightly around me.

I wouldve, but then itd detract from

my costume.There are millions of doctors here,

Clark. Believe me, no one will notice you either

way, Mary said as she grabbed my arm and

started dragging me away.

Hey!Sorry, Al, but we have more important

things to worry about. Captain-Im-too cool-for-

you has done nothing but chat it up with this

awful Wonder Woman girl since I arrived. Itsdisgusting.


24/59

Captain? I asked, wondering when she

suddenly started referring to Jason as the

Captain.

My question was soon answered when

Mary dragged me to the center of a massive

crowd of dancing comic book characters and

pointed toward a guy decked out in all blue with

stars and stripes, holding a shield while wearing a

giant ring to blind everybody.

Yes, Jason would dress up as CaptainAmerica. The fake muscles added a nice touch.

Justlook at her! Mary cried.I did, and I had to admit, Wonder Woman

was stunningstunningly stupid. Spandex? In

twenty degree weather without a coat? Please.

I shouldve dressed up as Catwoman!

What was I thinking?Mare, if you have to dress up in tight

clothes to get a guys attention, then hes notworth it.

You think so?Uh, yeah. Now lets dance and show

Captain Fake Muscles whats-what.

It was surprising how much I enjoyed

myself. The music remained upbeat, people left us

alone, I burned several calories. The only weird

thing was this guy dressed up as the Heath

Ledger Joker in a doctors outfit kept staring at

me.

Maybe he knows youre that Harleychick? Mary suggested when I pointed him out to

her.

Or hes a creeper.

Or both.I couldnt help but look back; there was

something oddly familiar about him, and I wasnt

just talking about the make-up.

He nodded in my direction, and a shiver

ran up my spine, causing all of my hairs to stand

on end.

I think we should find Clark.

We grabbed each others hand and startedthe trot back to where we last saw Clark, pausing

only a moment when Mary crouched down to the

ground. I thought for a second that she was lacing

up her shoes, until she sprung back up with a

pinecone in her hand. She hurled the thing in the

direction of Wonder Woman where it smashed

perfectly into her thigh and exploded into a

million tiny shards.


25/59

Ha! she cried, pumping her fist in the air

triumphantly.

Thats what you get for wearing Spandex.

Mary grasped my hand once more and took

off before the woman could exact her revenge. We

bolted past Clark conversing with a few classmates

until we made it to the car. The doors were locked.

Clark! Get your doctorate butt over here,

were leaving! Mary shouted, jiggling the handle as

if that would somehow magically make the car givein.

What? Clark called, but sprinted over

anyway. Where are we going?Anywhere but here. Mary climbed into the

backseat. Clark leaned over the drivers side of the

car, eyeing me with a bewildered expression on his

face.

Whats going on?The usual. I told him, sliding into the seat

next to Mary.

Can we just go, please?Where? Clark asked, turning the key into

the ignition and putting the car into reverse.

The cabin, Mary said, her eyes shifting tome. I left my stuff there.

Clark backed out of the lot. We were almost

home free when something blue ran into us.

Hey guys, leaving without me?If Bloody Mary really existed, she wouldve

had the face Mary was giving Jason right then. The

girl couldve curdled fresh milk with that look.Run him over, Clark, she said darkly.

Im not going to do that to my ownroommate. Clark told her as he unlocked the

passenger side door and let the overgrown cretin in

***

The entire trip up to the cabin was silent,

which was eerie considering we had the two

loudest people in the car. Jason would occasionally

glance over his shoulder at Mary, but she wanted

absolutely nothing to do with him. Shed become

fascinated with the leather stitching on the door.Clark announced our arrival just as the

shroud of trees parted, revealing the largest cabin

of them all. It stood three stories with a four-car

garage on the bottom floor. Stairs lead up to the

balcony of the second floor, which was where the

main entrance was. The color of the wood of the

cabin was light, I want to say it was cedar, but I

didnt know for sure from the headlights. Clark

explained as we drove up the driveway that there

were five bedrooms with nine beds in all.

Why would somebody need so many

beds?

Family reunions, he said simply.

Once we reached the garage, Clark

turned off the headlights, sending us into tot

darkness. A hand clawed at my arm, digging

their nails into my skin.

Ouch! Mare, let go!

Sorry! I cant see!

You ladies need help? Captain Not-So-Awesomes voice came from the side ofMarys door.

Whats that I hear? Sounds like a

fungus, an annoyingfungus.Mare, a fungus wouldnt make noise,

I told her.

Come on, Mare. Dont be like that.

The door squeaked loudly as Mary

thrust it open and hauled herself out.

Oh, he was in for it.

Dont. Call. Me. Mare! she shouted.Through the window I could see a tiny form

pummeling its fists into a much taller form

who stood there with its hands held out in

submission.

I chuckled softly against my seat, then

shrieked as the car suddenly came to life; th

lights flickered as the car horn went off. I

scrambled out, slamming the door behind m

when it stopped.

A chorus of laughter echoed all aroun

me as the porch light came on, revealing Cla

bent over the wooden railing above me, his

face buried into the crux of his arm as his

shoulders convulsed.

Real funny, guys. Just sound the alar

so all the killers can find us, Mary said,

hooking her arm around mine once we could

all see each other.

There arent killers here, Jason said

simply as he strolled past us and climbed up

the stairs.Yeah, and even if there were, we cou

just show them the girls faces and theyll takoff running, Clark added, his face a vibrant

red from all the laughter.

Can we just get inside already? Im

cold and times a tickin. I marched up the

stairs with Mary in tow, pushing past the guy

until we reached the door.


26/59

Clark came to my side, the key already in

his hand. When he reached to put the key into the

slot, the door opened of its own accord.

We all stood around and stared at each

other, thinking the same thing.

How was the door already unlocked?

My uncle probably came in earlier to heat

the place and forgot to lock up, Clark told us as he

stepped inside. We all followed suit, me a bit morereluctant than the rest. Once I stepped over the

threshold though, all thoughts left my mind as I

took in the sight of the place.

Oak, birch, maple, and cedar attacked my

sinuses. The cabin had a very 70s feel to it with

the shag carpets and lime green linoleum. The

third floor overlooked the second with mounted

heads of elk, deer, and buffalo displayed all over

the walls. One of the things that really caught my

eye was a fancy clock that hung in the entryway

between the living room and dining room. Theglass face reflected all sorts of rainbow colors

when the lights hit it just right, and the little red

and gold figurines moved to a tune when you

pressed the button.

So what should we do? Clark asked from

above our heads.

Mary and I both looked at each other, our

minds doing that girl connection thing boys could

never understand.

Scary movie?

Mary dived for the rocking couch at thesame moment Jason leapt over the back. There

was an awkward few seconds where they landed

on top of each other, but Mary fixed that when she

tossed him off onto the floor, his foam muscles

making a squeaky sound as they hit the carpet.

I plopped down on the now vacant seat

next to Mary. She rested her head on my shoulder

as we waited for Clark to turn on the flat screen TV

taking up half the wall.

As the boys channel surfed, searching for

the perfect movie, my lids became too heavy forme to handle. The last thing I heard before drifting

off was something along the lines of Leo DiCaprio

and an island.

***

Something annoying flashed against my eyelids. I

didnt like it one bit. I peeked with one eye open,

scanning around the room for whatever it was that

woke me up. Right above me, I discovered a light

bulb in the process of burning out.


27/59

Moaning and groaning, I sat upright on

the couch, stretching my hands over my head as

I yawned.

I scanned the room, expecting to find

Mary snoozing beside me while Clark and Jason

argued over what to watch next.

Only the empty room greeted me. Where

was everyone?

I called out for Clark, Mary, and Jason,

hoping that theyd just left the room to let mesleep.

They didnt answer.

Maybe they were downstairs and

couldnt hear me?

Clobbering down the steps, I called their

names once more, searching through every

bedroom; I even checked the garages.

Still nothing.

My mind whirled from the panic

threatening to take hold of me. Did they all go

for a walk?I attacked the stairs two at a time, flying

around corners until I made it to the bathroom.

My breath came out in gasps as I turned

the faucet to a nice warm temperature to begin

the soothing process of washing my face.Breathejust breatheyoull be okay.

Dipping my hands into the refreshing

waters, I scrubbed my face, watching as the

mixture of black, white, and red swirled around

in the sink.

A simple glance up at the mirror made

me freeze. The breath in my lungs dissipated. I

couldnt even scream.

Reflecting back at me in the mirror was

not my face

A man stared back at me. His face scarred

around the edges of his mouth; eyes black as ink

on white parchment.

The Joker from the bonfire was in the

mirror.

I took a step backwards, then another,

scrambling to get out the door as fast as possible

while the man drifted out of the mirror and took

solid shape.

A syringe the size of my arm accumulated

in his grasp.

I bolted down the hall, into the living

room, and toward the door. My hand just

clasped around the knob of the door that would

lead me to freedom when something grabbed

one of my pigtails and yanked me down,

smacking my head against the floor.

Blood trickled down my forehead, invading

my line of sight as I was kicked over onto my back

I lay on the floor, immobilized, as pain shot up my

spine

The Joker hovered above me: a cobra with

bloody smile ready to strike with his needle.

I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the

inevitable.

The clock in the entryway chimed as the

little figurines danced in a happy circle of flowers

and rainbows, signaling the arrival of twelve.

My eyes shot open just as the man muttere

a low oath.

Fire scorched through my veins, licking my

muscles, and tingling down to my toes. I writhed

on the floor, twitching faster and faster, convulsin

with each chime like electric shocks.

Once the chimes ended, I was ready.

I peeled myself off of the floor, cracking my

neck and rolling my shoulder blades back.

Whatever doesnt kill you simply makes yo

stranger.

I pounced on his shoulders, slamming him

into the kitchen wall, and pinning him with ease a

I punched and clawed at his face. He released the

syringe, but pulled out a knife. I grabbed his wrist

turning the blade against him. He watched his ow

hand move down to his stomach, the edge of the

blade ready to enter into his flesh

And laughed. The man was actually cacklin

at his own demise.Come on, come on I want you to do it. Stabme!

His chuckle echoed throughout my body,

entering into my mind like a ringing alarm bell. Fo

the first time ever, I knew what I was doing. I was

conscious about what was going on in my

surroundings.

No, I said, tossing the knife as far away

from me as possible. I wasnt going to give in and

let thisthis thingin my life control me.

The laughter died in his throat instantly; inits place was a heated rage.

Before I could react, the Joker grabbed the

syringe left on the floor and jabbed it into my arm

A gasp left my lips as the heaviness from

before enveloped my entire body. I collapsed onto

the floor as the room whirled around me: a merry

go-round gone wild.


28/59

BeepBeepBeep

I thrust my eyes open, regretting

it a second later as blinding lights

attack my face. One of them flickers

above me. I try to move but find myself

strapped down to a gurney. How on

earth did I get here? My eyes are

groggy; I try to focus on the objects

around me, but its hard; everythings

so white.An EKGah, my heart ratethe

beeping makes sense now.

I shift my head to the side; a pair

of blue eyes greets me.

Clark?

He says nothing, but continues

to write on his clipboard. His outfit is

different, its still a doctors uniform,

but now it looks more realistic. I

wonder when he changed?

Clark? Whats going on?Vitals are stable.Where am I?I turn away from him only to

find a man up against a wall in a

doctors uniform as well, glaring at me.

Both sides of his cheeks have a gash.

A shiver runs up my spine. I turn

my head to the other side; another

gurney lies before me. A white sheet

covers a form, only a single bloody

hand betrays what is lying underneath.

A large championship ring

glistens on its finger. Jason?Somethings not right, the

voice of the strange man says.

I face the doctor once more in

confusion.

He ignores me; his head tilts

toward Clark. What did you do?Clarks eyes flicker to him, then

to me, then back to his clipboard.

Nothing, he says calmly.

Dont toy with me.

She reacted to the serum the way she normally

doesShes supposed to try to kill me! I should have

complete control over her by now.Her body is adjusting, Bane. We may have to give

her doses more frequently, not just at twelve on the

hour.

I wrack my brain, trying to make sense of whattheyre saying, but the same images play out over and

over.Arkham Caf, the bonfire, the cabin, the Joker,

MaryMary.Mare! I gasp, straining against the straps

holding me down.

Ah, yes. Meredith, the Dr. Bane guy says her

name like a caress. Pushing himself off the wall, he heads

over to the gurney where he places his hands on both

sides of my head, rubbing my temples. We had loads offun with her, didnt we?

What areyou talking about? Whos Meredith? I

try to swat his hands away, but still no luck. Where did

all my strength go? I continue to fight against my bonds

while he carries on.

YourefriendMareor should I say inmate? Ibelieve shes still in the critical condition after youlacerated her face.

You shouldnt have given Alice a knife to begin

with, Clark says, his face still buried behind hisclipboardas if hes afraid to look at me.

It was all a matter of testing, Clark. And as youvery well know, Ivelearned from my mistakes. Banepoints to his face, then stares back down at me. You

have a bit too much fun with weapons, you see. You

botched up your own cheeks before going after mine and

killed Jason when he interfered.Clark, please, tell me whereI am! I shout at the

top of my lungs. What this man tells me has to be a lie.

There's no way I couldve cut up my own face, or

anybody elses.

Youre in an asylum, Alice. Your inmate,

Meredith, is in critical condition after you laceratedher face.


29/59

Her name is Mary, not

Meredith!Those are your delusions. A

world youve created to try to findreasoning to what youve done.

Why are you saying thesethings? You know me, Clark. Youre

one of my best friends!

A strange buzzing sound

goes off. Several other doctors enter

the room as Bane glances at his

watch.

You think we should giveher another dose? Try it again?

Dose? Dose of what?CLARK! I shriek, tears welling up in

my eyes as I fight with all my might

against the constraining bands. No

witty or sarcastic remark this time,just pure misery.

A physician gets too close. I

attempt to kick him in the face, but

all I manage to do is bump him a

little.

Several hands surround me,

including Clarks, as a flail around.

Tears release, leaving deep tracks

down my face. Please, Clark, I beg

you

Sedate her! Bane shouts.NO! I punt the clipboard

out of Clarks hands; it lands on thecorner of the table theyve just

rolled in.

As more white suits come in

to pin me down so they can inject

me with whatever it is, I finally

catch a glimpse of what is on the

clipboard.

In full bold lettering it reads:

PROJECT WONDERLAND


30/59

Ime inturstid en them shus. Ma boi dont gotnun cuz hiz fete all twistee like and funylukin. Hee wuz born all uglee and craws-eyed cuz hiz momma dunt no she wuz wit child

en rassulled pigz fer funn. Yu ever rassulledpigz afor? Them sukerz iz crazy fast (ay kay aylite-ning fast). Won tiem at da stait fare meand ma uhnkul Fil braked in wen it wuz niteand steeled 4 pigz. 3 of dem wur sleepinahfull hard an ditnt even no we steeled em.

This big ol hog name Wilburrrr (like thattahkin pig in that wurd book) caym a runin anhee shur gayv ol Fil a cunkushin. . Yu evarseen da Mrs. Sippi rivir? It shur is a buteThenwe heered da poeleese comin soes we runned

and gitted outa thare.


31/59

Ol Fils is was all crazee lookin and hiz tawk wuzawfol slo so I made hem a glass o cunkushin alixer.Case yous wundrin, cunkushin alixer iz a mickshure of

pikel brine, chikin fetes, boe-vine mish-mash, andornge Jews. But I dyegrass, wy yu sellin them shus an

they aint never ben worn? Yu won o them rich folkwit lots of baby shus? Is they uglee baby shus? Idont mind no uglee shus, jus as long as they is shus.

Wen I wuz a yungin my Ma dunt hav no muny so shetide wud blox too my feets sos i cud wok to skule. Alldem kidz callded me blok fut boy. Yu beleev that?Kidz is so crool. I telled my Ma too git me reel shus,butt that maked Pa cross (an not like tha churchcross) an he splitted my lip wit his boot. Nex day in

skule, my teecher askted me wut iz rong wit yer lipboy? I telled hur i falled on my fase wen wokinlong tha shoor of tha grate Mrs. Sipi rivir. She telledme to lurn a thing er 2 bout wokin afor i git hurt wursnex time


32/59

. Yeserday, me an my other boy hu aint got twistee like feetwuz swimin an hee sed Pa letz swim too that log oer

yonder. So weze swimed and swimed til Wii reecht da logan it wuzent no log. It wuz a ded feller wit an Injun arroin hiz I ball. My boy swammed reel fast to da shore butt idid tha sponsibul thing an pulled da corps two land. I ditntdu no see pee arr cuz hee wuz all blu an ded like. I chekthiz pockits fur i-dent-if-a-cashun an lukked fer hiz dryverz

liesins card butt ditnt find nuthin sept fiftee bux. Me an dapoleese dont sea i to i sose wee lef da corps a layin tharean went hoem wit da moo-la. I bot my self a pet snappin

turtal an yuzed da rest to bi ma boy hiz furst buk cawled daHolee Bye Bell. Itz gawt all sortz o fansee wordz in it likereepintints, geez us, hippo grits (aint never tried them tipe ofgrits), sacker mint, tranzfingernashun, an my favurit, JensSis. Wel i figger i spended lotz o tyme tokkin bowt non centsso how much yu want fur them shus? Yu wilin tu trayd?

How bout uur shus fur my eldest gurl (she aint got no legz).Pleez rees pond ay es ay pee.

Sin Seer Lee,Trigur Wind-chester


33/59


34/59

I wish I could make a home in my head. I could

curl up inside myself and revel in the silence. That is

one virtue the outside world doesnt appreciate: the

quiet. Everyone always has to be talking. They forget

to listen. They forget to hear their hearts squeeze in

anticipation of the next beat, and if they forget to

listen, then how do they know their hearts still exist?The heart is quite a fickle creature; it feels so

much that it is amazing it doesnt burst. I have often

been at the mercy of my heart, an instrument to its

whims and steady, unending beat. In the past, I

considered myself strong, only to be refuted when my

heart broke me like I broke my femur falling from an

out of control horse. Such is how my heart often is: out

of control. It throws itself against the ribs entrapping

it, believing with its entirety that this person, whoever

he may be at that given moment, will nourish its

pulsing chambers with love and resurrect the decayededges of an overused pacemaker.

Yet on a whim, that fickle heart will move on,

and it will beat just as forcefully for someone new.

There is no power over the heart. It feels what it will,

and it never, ever forgets. Sometimes, I wish I could

forget. I wish I could get wrapped up in the

merriment, in the noise, and forget how silence says

more than words.

I still havent spoken of you.

If the heart is fickle, then love is

cruel. Love is like a sopranos high voice,

rising above the choir to pluck my

heartstrings playfully apart, a feeling so

phenomenal that I do not notice love

shredding my heart (that fickle heart)into

ruin. The worst of it is that while all this ishappening, while Im holding my Swiss-

cheesed heart in my hands like an offering

to Aphrodite, Ill be smiling, murmuring I

love you even as my heart stops.

I digress, love is quite alluring. It

offers a beauty we rarely see, a fleeting

glimpse into what-could-be. With you and I,

what could be? We could be together, but

together is a funny concept. It implies a

permanent unity the word simply cannot

hold. We could slip right out of togethersgrasp. This is because love never comes

alone; it always has a parasite to eat away at

its natural beauty, such as jealousy, anger,

and sadness. These cling to love desperately,

their last hope, as if by association love will

fix the fundamental wrongs they too often

cause.


35/59

You lean in, as intangible as smoke. I refuse to

look at you.

If I were to make a home in my head, I could

avoid the trouble that comes from loves

intricacies. It would be easier there, wrapped

up in silence. But if I did this, I would give up

all my possibilities and maybes, all my

tomorrows. These possibilities are uncertain,

but I cannot deny that I want them like the sun

wants the moon. And if my heart is fickle, andlove cruel, this only means I must shine

brighter until I illuminate a love that is kind. It

has to be out there, somewhere.

Nonetheless, I grow weary of speculation. My

heart has been trying to flutter away through

my writing, and now all I want to do give it

rest in my dreams. Dreams of the future.

Dreams of you. Do you dream of me too, I

wonder? Somehow, I doubt it. You are off

dancing through the noise. Maybe I will join

you and forget how much a heart can hurt, butI will always listen. Silence has so much to say,

love; look at what has been said already.

Listen. If you hear me, perhaps we could find

each other. We could make a home in each

others hearts, instead of hiding in our heads.

We could rest.


36/59

Charis Emrich


37/59


38/59


39/59


40/59


41/59

Kisses in the shadows

Out of reach from light

Kisses in the shield of doorwaysIn the dark of night

These kisses carry nothing

Dont search in your despair

There is no promise with us

Its only empty air

The Devil in you made you

Your pleading voice persuades

He forced your hand and trapped you

He made you do and say

There is no Devil in me

Dont misunderstand

There is no Devil in me

The Devils who I am


42/59


43/59


44/59

I hear the pleas

In your voice

On your faceIn your choice

Pleas of comfort

Relief to cry

Cant you hearThe promises in mine?


45/59


46/59


47/59


48/59


49/59

Celine

White


50/59


51/59

Anna Barona


52/59


53/59


54/59

Anna Barona


55/59

Anna Barona


56/59


57/59

The stained mugs were the problem. She alwaysleft her tea bags in the mug shed drink out of andnot wash it right away. She assumed she could re-use the tea bag. Shed drink a cup of tea first thingin the morning, save that tea bag, and use thatsame bag in another cup she would drink beforesupper.

We always had wonderful meals for supperand truly had the time to unwind after our busydays. At our dinner table, I would stare at herwhile she talked about the positive things thathappened to her that day. Watching her talk aboutwhat she loved was probably the best thing I haveever seenover any football game or TV series. Iwanted to pause our suppers or rewind themoment she laughed and her eyes squinted. She

looked so happy.Our marriage was everything youd want.

The mugs were the only thing that drove me crazy.It was something easily prevented, but a bad habitshe was never willing to break. The tea bags sittingin the mugs were disgusting. The worst was shewould leave them in different places and not cleanup after herself.

One distinct tea bag would so dry up andget clumpy from being drenched, that it lookedexactly like marijuana. This one sat in our forest

green mug right by our toaster, and every time I

Angelina Perez


58/59

made toast, I would call out to her from the kitchen saying, are yousaving this one for the brownies!?

Im recycling the flavor! She would justify. Shed run out fromher room and give me a kiss goodbye because she always knew when Imade my toast; it meant I was leaving for work. Right before I closed thedoor I looked over at the toaster. There I saw her mug she hadnt putaway. I drove to work knowing that will leave a darker stain.

The stains were not vanishing out by dish washer or hand wash.Not only that, but she would take her mug all over the house with her. Goto the dining table and there was a mug. The items on the bathroomcounter: a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a mug. On the couch side table,the bedroom night standstained mugs. One would assume the mugswere a piece of furniture or decor. She left them everywhere, and she leftthem stained.

The tea bags sat at the bottom of her finished drinkthe wet bagdrying up against the side of mug. The white ceramic turned a golden,toasted color and after three hours of I love Lucy and four hours ofGilligans Islandon a Saturday night. Take another seven hours of deep

sleep and the ceramic mug is permanently discolored; a bruise that doesnot disappear; a tattoo on once clear skin that you can never have againeven if you tried to remove it.

I hated how she left her tea bags in every mug. I hated how she lefther mugs around the house like a trail so she would never get lost. Ihated coming home to eight different mugs, honestly causing me toquestion if it was to prove a point; each mug telling me that Imneglecting her and that she was sarcastically telling me she exists.

I wish she still did. I would trade each of these stupid, God-forsaken, stained mugs for her life back.

And every night before I go to bed, I always leave a ceramic mug

on my work deskmaking sure theres a tea bag in my already stainedmug.


59/59

Thank you for the smiles. Thank you for thelight you all share. Thank you for staying late tohelp out, for making working here not only the

best opportunity but the best environment.

Thank you for loving writing. Thank you forloving the people. Thank you for the log daysand the laughs and the Halloween costumes.Th k f hi I b

adventures inbetween

Documents