Stories
What makes a hatter go mad?
Florence Jay
She wonders this as she approaches the shop where she's been assigned to work. Her brothers scared her, talking of deadly poisons and experiments gone wrong. But Mr. London was a nice man, albeit a bit odd. She settles into work quickly, surrounded by other apprentices, cutting and dipping beaver pelts in vats of chemicals she can't name. “What's in these?” She asks on a whim, and the older, more experienced apprentices laugh. One tall, gaunt young man cackles eerily and points to a skull drawn in the side of one of the barrels. “Poison.” He says, leaning towards her face. She backs up to Mr. London, who has just exited his office. He touches her shoulder gently and pushes the other boy away. “No need to scare young Eva, Sebastian. All that's in those barrels is mercury nitrate, dear.” He says she returns to work, a little hesitant to dip her hands into the barrels. Weeks pass, and her hands begin to tremble. She feels dizzy and sick whenever she goes to work. One night, the apprentices gather after hours and drink teaspoons of a silver liquid she can't name. She drinks as well, pressured by Sebastian and the others. Her illness gets worse, and she brings it to see things that aren't there. She opens her eyes and sees a doctor in a black bird mask leaning over her. “Mercury poisoning.” He says gravely to her father. She slips away into blackness, not wanting to hear his following words, though she already knows. One last thought floats into her mind as she gives in to the dark…
What makes a hatter go mad?
The Cranky Old Man
Kayla Bergen
Many know the Cranky Old Man to be a tyrant. The kind of person you go out of your way to avoid. Most assume that he has always been this way. Listen closely, and I will tell you about a time when the Cranky Old Man was favored everywhere.
“Harry! Over here!” Gerald called in an intense game of basketball. Gerald stood near the netted hoop with his arms up and ready to catch the basketball.
The Cranky Old Man, going by the name of Harry at the time, passed the basketball to Gerald. After a few dribbles, the ball was shot through the hoop.
“We did it!” Harry called, as the two high-fived. Harry’s voice left a slight echo in the deserted gymnasium.
The two boys had snuck away during their study hall to play basketball in their school's empty gym.
“Whoa!” Gerald said as he tried to steady his balance.
The ground had started to shake furiously. The sound of banners clattering to the ground echoed throughout the big space. Water bottles were knocking over, creating an echo-y bang.
Gerald was working hard to crawl across the slick floor, trying to make his way to one of the few doors leading outside of the building.
Harry looked around from his new spot, kneeling on the floor. He stayed where he was, analyzing the situation. Harry determined that there was about twenty feet between the two of them.
A loud noise prompted Gerald to stop crawling and look up in time to see a small meteor come crashing into the gymnasium, taking the space between them.
What happened? Harry wondered as he squinted through the darkness. He slowly got up from the ground, searching with his eyes for Gerald.
“Gerald!” He called into the darkness. The only sound left was the crickets outside. From the looks of it, night had come long ago.
“Gerald!” Harry called again. Again, Gerald did not answer.
Desperate, Harry ran around the meteor searching for Gerald. When he did not find Gerald, he ran. He ran into the chilly night air and the nearest forest. He kept running for what felt like an eternity.
Eventually, Harry came across an old, beaten-up cottage. Knocking without an answer, he decided it was abandoned. He slowly opened the creaky door and entered the old cottage.
Directly across from him was a stone fireplace that looked inhabited by several species of spiders. A lone, flimsy chair was set in front of the fireplace. Frying pans were hung on narrow hooks on the wall. A small cot was set up against the right wall with a small table in front of it, closest to the door. The left wall had an empty wardrobe standing against it. Next to that were tall, crooked, built-in shelves. The shelves appeared to contain a plethora of canned goods. Corn, Beats, Carrots, Peas…
The most disturbing thing was a big, scaled egg, shaking furiously on the table. Pieces of the shell were cracking, and a small talon was poking out on one side.
What is this? Wondered Harry, still trying to catch his breath from the long run.
A small horned head started to emerge from the top of the egg. The horns were stone gray, and the head was ruby red. The eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the light, were emerald, green.
My very own dragon, Harry thought, as a malicious smile spread across his lips.