Mad Hatter

2: Running Away

“Did you finish the second chapter of Pride and Prejudice?” Miss Ebner asks. My stomach twists and Elaine comes and sits next to me. “No, ma’am,” I let out in a huge jumble of words. “Clara, you have to speak up, no one understands your gibberish,” Elaine teases. I roll my eyes and mother gives me the look that says, “don’t be disrespectful, this is a privilege not a priority”

“N-no ma’am,” I stutter. Miss Ebner sighs and closes her eyes, “What have you been doing, dear?” My eyes turn to an albino butterfly. I’ve never seen such a large butterfly before, and it seems to be listening and watching like Elaine. “D-drawing,” I reply. I can feel my face going pale and Elaine face palming. She doesn’t really care, but she wants to be as much like an adult as she possibly can. 

“Drawing? Clara, let me see your book,” Miss Ebner says in a slightly louder voice. I hand her my book full of my favorite sketches and color palettes. I wanted to run away with that butterfly out into the woods and make my own house with drawings all over the walls. But Elaine would be proven as the better daughter, and that couldn’t happen. 

Miss Ebner flips through the pages, staring intently at them then sharply ripping it out. One by one, my most hard worked on sketches and designs where being thrown out and ripped. Each rip felt like a knife to my heart. 

“I’m disappointed,” Miss Ebner says.

“You should be, madam,” Elaine adds on.

Of course, perfect Elaine would only add fuel to the fire! I feel a different type of anger, something from deep down building up ready to explode like a cannon. 

“Just shut up, Elaine!” I yell in her face. My heart beats faster than ever and my eyes boom out of their sockets. I can’t believe I just said that, and neither can Elaine, Mother, or Miss Ebner. I had to run away from this, I could risk a beating if I don’t. My black flats rub against my feet, but I don’t care. I sprint towards town, planning to hide in a shop or ask to be taken in by a family. I turn back to make sure Elaine isn’t following me, but my head slams into another head, causing me to fall to the ground. Suddenly, the world goes black.

I force my eyes open even though they feel like blocks of heavy marble. “Are you okay?” an unknown voice asks. The voice belongs to a young boy, my age, with light brown hair and tan skin. I try to tell him that I’m fine, which I really am not, but words don’t form. I get frustrated and eventually give up on trying to speak. I’m too tired. He sighs, sensing my struggle. I must look terrible compared to his collared shirt and suit jacket. With my unkempt hair and grass stained tights, I feel embarrassed. Who was this boy anyway? The boy walked away, leaving me against a shaded tree, alone. 

My eyes started to flutter, but a flying white figure catches my eye. The butterfly! I weakly hold out my finger and the butterfly lands gently onto it. I inspect it closely. The butterfly seems normal, but something is off. I don’t know what it is, though. Its wings vibrated, like it was going to burst into something. A putrid stench filled the air around me, making me gag. In a blink of an eye, the butterfly was gone.

How? How was it gone so fast? I immediately got up, somehow forgetting about being tired. I turn my head to the left towards town, to see the boy with a bucket of water.

“Sir! Sir! I don’t know who you are, but you must help me!” I exclaim to him, practically screaming with frantic motions. I could tell he was bewildered, like I was mad like the quarry men. 

“Pardon?” he says.

“There was a butterfly, and it just…” I stuttered. I must sound insane. This boy came with water to take care of me, and now he must wonder if I’m messed up, “disappeared into thin air!”

He blinked and stared at me. I wanted to run away again, but he would probably spread word of my craziness among the townsfolk. 

"I understand, some weird things happen in this town," he says, sighing almost as if he was stuck in memories.

"Who are you, anyway?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. Ouch! Even lifting them up a little bit hurt. Does this boy have a skull of steel or something? I'm seriously convinced he does, because I feel a bruise forming on my forehead.

"Who are you?" he asks back. He was secretive, good to know.

"I asked you first."

"I don't care."

I grunted. He was being difficult and I don't know why.

"Clara King," I said, rolling my eyes at him. It's his turn now to reveal his identity before I get skeptical.

"Ah, I'm Peter Ebner. Don't share my name with anyone, alright," he says. PETER? I have never seen him before (as I have mentioned before) but I didn't expect him to look like how he does. He had pretty tan skin which is surprising here in England, and he had overgrown golden blonde hair. I blinked multiple times. I don't know what had rushed to my heart, fear or something else.

"You believe those quarry men, don't you?" he says, scoffing.

"Sometimes," I reply. I wasn't a fool, but I was somewhat gullible.

"Good, they're all talk. I'm going to go get some deviled eggs," he says as he turned around towards his house. I haven't even noticed his house! I must've been blind all these years. I slump against the big oak tree and sigh heavily. I just ran away from my family because my private tutor got mad at me. God, I'm a loser. 

I close my eyes just to rest, but my nose starts to itch. I open my eyes to scratch the feeling away, but an albino butterfly had landed on my nose. No, no no no! I had heard a superstition that if albino butterflies were near your head, it is a sign of death. I'm in deep trouble.