VIP with OED

Currently I am in a very nice hotel room with the love of my life after driving for a good three and a half hours to Little Rock, AR. Oh the adventures we have together but that is going to have to be a story for another week, Sprinkles…

This week is all about One-Eyed Doll. Now May-May met OED at Ikki-kon 2011. Thanks to our car wreck we actually missed the show. However, when we got to the con we were able to meet Kimberly. We told her about our wreck and missing the show and she hugged us both and autographed some stickers for us. We asked her if she would promote our album, FVITD, and she happily agreed. That video can be seen here. Well one night I was on the computer and I got an email from the One-Eyed Doll mailing list saying that OED would be coming to our hometown. Of course I booked our tickets and told May, who then immediately got us VIP passes.

So on St. Patty’s Day we headed to one of the local bars where the show was going to start. There we met Melinda, One-Eyed Doll’s Merch Monkey. She was really sweet to both of us and later in the evening we found out she was a Sprinkle! We had nice chat with her but then the show was starting.

Now the first band that played I didn’t catch their name. I knew they were from Italy but I, and the venue, had no idea why they were playing in the first place. Not to say that they weren’t good but they weren’t on the posters. But after they gave a wonderful show, Picture Me Broken began and holy fucking fuck they were spectacular. I loved watching them and I was really sad that I had already spent all of my money on OED merch but I made sure to remember their name because I was definitely going to get some of their music later.

 And then the band that we had been waiting for had arrived.  

I had forgotten how cute this woman is. Seriously if you have never seen a One-Eyed Doll show I implore you all to go to one. Expect Kimberly to jump out into the audience, also except costume changes, and props being thrown at you as well. Words cannot give Kimberly or Jr. justice. I loved singing Plumes of Death (as heard on the Titanic soundtrack, My Little Pony, and The Passion of the Christ 3-D) and having Kimberly step on my shoulder for support as she sang to the crowd. I thoroughly enjoy yelling “Hail Satan!” during Be My Friend. I really wish that they had been head-lining because they give a good show every single time.

But after that was over we got in line for merch. We were at the end of it and when got to Kimberly (after touching her finger and getting hugged) she said that we looked familiar. We reminded her of our story to Austin and she grabbed Jr. and said “Hey it’s the guy’s from Ikki-kon”.

“Wait…you remember us?”

“Yeah you guys were the most memorable part of that trip.”

Then she noticed that we had VIP passes and started freaking out as did we. Jr. went out for something and Kimberly kept signing autographs. While that was going on May-May and I watched OTEP’s show. Wow. That is all I will say on the matter. Wow. My face and everything was rocked so hard.

Following that everyone started packing up their stuff and May and I helped Melinda and Jr. load up the van. Afterwards we all loaded up and cruised around town for a little bit.

We gave Kimberly her C.C. CD that we had promised two years ago and she loved it. We have another video of her endorsing it so watch out for that one. Besides that we just hung out and chilled and listened to music in the van. It was really peaceful and nice. We talked about growing up in small towns where people really don’t understand you and I feel like we all really connected. We drove back to the bar and then we had cupcakes. Which I would love to make it a rule that we should end every visit like this whether it be with friends or VIPs or whatever. Cupcakes make everything better.  And what made it even better was that our cupcakes came with little bow rings. So now May-May, Kimberly, Melinda, and I are all engaged. We haven’t set a date yet but I already know that the bridal shower is going to be kick-ass.

And then we said our goodbyes to everyone. Melinda promised to mention us on her blog and we promised to mention her in ours. I really hope we all see each other again soon. And maybe, if the fates allow, we’ll play with One-Eyed Doll.

P.S. Kimberly I went to the Arkansas Music Hall today and I found the OED sticker on the wall. They said they can’t wait to see you guys again.

Till next Thursday,

Love

Jay

Wake Up To Make Up

My mom was a secretary for eighteen years. Every day she would wake up at five in the morning and get ready for a long day. She’d shower and then start on her make up and hair. I remember waking up early and watching her put on her face. I always loved watching her becoming more beautiful and I was a little jealous. I wanted to look just as beautiful.

When I was a little kid I was asked to be a part of our high school’s fall production of The Wizard of Oz . They were looking for kids to be munchkins and I was excited to be on stage. There are plenty of stories I could give about this whole experience but I want to focus on what one of my co-actors said to me. We were in the boy’s dressing room getting ready for practice. I noticed that a couple of the older boys were grabbing brushes and Halloween paints before they started to apply it. I was confused. Growing up I was taught that only girls wore make up. This did not compute. I sat there marveled that boys were putting on blush, powder, and lipstick. What was this? One of the main characters looked at me.

“Why aren’t you getting ready?” The incredibly flamboyant Tin Man asked me.

“I don’t know how to do that.” I motioned to the older kids getting ready.

“Well, you’re going to learn.” He said taking some lipstick. “Wake up to make up, honey”.

I really wish that I could say that he helped me put on my lipstick and I thought I was pretty and that I knew I would always want to do this. But that would be a huge lie. In fact I actually ran away from the Tin Man and even accidently slammed his fingers in a door. This caused him, along with our director and the other main characters (except Glinda and the Wicked Witch, my cousin) to hate me. And to this day I feel awful for what I did to the guy and I really wished I had embraced what he was trying to do for me.

Although there were many negative experiences from doing that production one thing stuck. I loved being on stage and I wanted to continue doing that.

Now, originally, I didn’t want to wear much make up for C.C. because I felt like it was too much work but I have since embraced it. 

I really wanted to show a picture of me doing my own make up for this entry but I had no time. Maybe next entry?

Instead let me tell you about you about a C.C. tradition: whore-face. Whore-face was a term that May-May and I came up with this term when I took this picture:

Whore-face is when after anytime we wear make up we try to make ourselves look as nasty as possible. Usually this is done with wetting one hand and smacking against one side of your face and then rubbing it up and down. Smearing all of your make up in the process and giving yourself a whore face. It started as just a joke but it turned into so much more. It’s a nice way to unwind after a long day and give yourself a good laugh.

Now this next picture is one we haven’t shared yet. Last week May-May and I entered in a short film contest for The Devils Carnival. 

We spent a good four or so hours filming and after being in the cold, covered in fake blood, and running in heels we grabbed some of the candy we used and did a spectacular whore-face. It was a great night and I had an amazing time. Here is our contest entry and you guys should totally watch, like, and comment on it.

Till next week, Sprinkles,

Love,

Jay

In The Beginning...

A few days ago we had a C.C. Question of the day. That question was “if you could use one word how would you describe meeting your friend”. If I could only use one word I would probably describe meeting May-May as “magic”, “fate”, or “serendipity”.

(May-May and I after we finished up on our latest project)

Growing up I was kind of a shy kid and I really didn’t have that many friends. There was one guy through named Austin and I was certain that he was my best friend. Now my definition of a best friend is someone that is there for you and supports you, and is someone that has your back in times of crisis. Austin wasn’t that type of friend. We knew each other since our first day of kindergarten and we had a lot of fun together as the years went on. That is until we both started the 4^th grade. Austin always wanted to a football player but I didn’t. It was never one of my passions. Well, 4^th grade was when kids could start play flag football and of course Austin signed up. Over the course of a few days he had made some new friends and I kept to myself either writing in my journal or using my imagination to make up some new games. One day I went to go to talk to Austin and he acted as if we had never met before. He was with his new friends and their opinions mattered more to him than mine did. Whenever we were alone together, though, he would act like the normal Austin that I knew and everything was fine. But if ever he saw any of his other friends approaching he’d become distant and cold to me. After about a couple of weeks of this I had had enough. I remember one of my classmates asking me if Austin and I weren’t friends anyone because we hardly ever talked to one another. I shrugged and said “I guess so”.

This continued on with the guy as we grew up. He always cared about what others thought of him and shunned his real friends as if they were secret shames that needed to be hidden from light of day. I never understood why he acted like this. I tried to reconnect after high school. Maybe all the peer pressure had vanished since graduation but I never really spoke to him again.

Now around my sophomore year of high school I met a young 7^th grader. We went to the same church but we never really spoke to one another. He was quiet for the most part and kept to himself. It wasn’t until we both went to a church retreat that we actually spoke to one another. And what was the first thing we discussed you ask? Horror movies. After that moment we were inseparable.

May and I have had a lot of good memories together. 

(Classic Halloween Whore-Face)

(re-hydrating after a couple of hours during a photo shoot)

And I know that we are going to have many more because he embodies what a true best friend is. 

Now I want to leave you all with a little story of one of my favorite memories with May-May.

(May-May winning Miss Horror-fest 2007)

This goes back to one of our first Halloween’s together. Halloween is one of my favorite holiday’s and it was nice to know that May felt this way too. To begin our adventure we went to the Spirit Store to shop around for items to go with our costumes. There we found a few different things. (Pics of Mason and me at Spirit). And we even scoped the place for local haunted houses which are another favorite of mine. So we began our journey around town till we found our haunted house. Fun fact, back in the day May-May was afraid of going into haunted houses due to one of the actors grabbing him one year. Me, on the other hand, I enjoy the fake monsters and their attempt to be scary because it’s just cute and funny.

“You’re totally going to leave me behind.” May said as we waited for our turn to walk through the maze.

“Why would I do that? You’re just being paranoid.”

“I just know you’re going to ditch me.”

“Oh, God, fine you big baby.” I took the sleeves of both of our jackets and tied them into a knot. “There, now I couldn’t leave you even if I wanted to. This seemed to satisfy my friend and we met our “guide” through the haunted house.  Our guide was man with a rotted zombie mask and he wore a sheriff’s outfit with ten gallon hat. This is Texas after all.

“Here take this rope so’s you don’t get lost.” He handed May and I a small piece of twine.  We exchanged a skeptical glance at one another before our guide yelled. “GO ON NOW!!!” We grabbed the string and he slowly guided us through the classics of all haunted house. We dodged psychotic clowns, evil dentists, werewolves, Michael Meyers, and strangest of all…Santa Clause.

“Santa?!”

“Ho, ho, ho!” The big man in red jiggled. “Happy Halloween.” May-May and I looked at each other again. Would Jack Skellington make an appearance as well?

“You do know you’re in the wrong holiday, right?” I asked.

“I just wanted to give you boys an early Christmas present. Ho, ho, ho!” He bellowed as he shoveled through boxes upon boxes. “Ho! Here it is.” Santa started to dig through his bag as May and I watched amused. Telepathically we were singing “What’s This” in our heads and wondering what St. Nick was about to pop out of his sack. Severed heads? Snakes?  A shotgun? But no all wrong. Santa pulled out a candy cane chainsaw! He “ho, ho, ho”ed as he chased us towards the end of the house.

Finally we had reached the final stretch before reaching the exit.

“Watch out for my brothers…” Our zombie cowboy guide said in his thick southern drawl.

As we continued towards the exit we saw little grim reapers throwing balls against a metal sheet. Wow, I thought, this is pretty anticlimactic. But just before we cleared the exit that lead to the parking lot our guide moan out something.

“Watch out for my big brother…”

We both stopped and look at one another. Big brother? Suddenly a metal door burst opened just a few feet of us. We both stood there unfazed. Slowly we walked towards the opened door. Peering inside I called out.

“Big brother?”

The sound of a chainsaw revving behind us made May jump and run, dragging me behind him. Our zombie cowboy guide cackling as we staggered through the exit. Me laughing my ass off and May-May running for dear life.

Well that’s it for this week. I’m looking forward to the next. Also tell me some of your favorite memories with your best friends.

Also you’re probably wondering what May-May I went for on that Halloween. Well, here it is.

Yes Emo Kids! We were so nonconforming.

Till next time,

Love, Jay

The First Step

 So it’s been a year or so since the blog was last updated.  I had an idea that I really wanted to do for the Asylum Letters but the inspiration behind it ended up falling apart before I could really do anything with it. And I feel bad that I wasn’t able to do my idea and I feel even worse for having to postpone the Letters for the time being.

May-May and I had a really good talk the other night. We celebrated having over 1,000 likes on our band page. We spent a portion of the night discussing where we wanted C.C. to go and talents that we both wanted to expand and hone.

One thing that May-May does amazingly is makeup. He’s been doing both of ours since the very beginning. I do not have his talent with a brush. All I can do is standard theatre makeup and that’s about it. Part of my goals for this year is to become more independent. I have already started this by moving out of my parent’s house. Another thing I want to do is being able to do my makeup as well as May. One of my birthday gifts from him was some liquid liner from Black Heart and for Christmas my boyfriend, Nathan, gave me some beautiful red lipstick and so marked the beginnings of my steps to becoming somewhat adequate with painting my face.  And after reading a very wonderful post by the woman who is my idol and my very reason for wanting to be on stage. I have purchased a train travel suitcase. I’ll carry my makeup and some other personal effects to bring the magic fully together and really start this.

Sometime before the end of March, May told me that we are going on a shopping spree to buy me some essentials. And I’ll start practicing and with time I’ll get better. 

(My first batch of test make up! More will come when May-May and I go shopping)

I’ll be sure to post some pictures of my first attempts. Which I know will probably be terrible but, hey, for someone who is starting out I’ll wear all the marks with pride.

And now a promise to all of you Sprinkles, old and new, about this blog.

I have a personal motto:

“Just say it, just do it”

Communication is very important. Too many times we never say what is really going on in our heads due to something like being afraid of how other people might react to something. I am a victim of this. For too long I was, and sometimes I still am, afraid of saying something that might cause a confrontation or make someone think less of me. But after re-reading a letter that I wrote to my ten-year-old self I was reminded of my personal motto and the many, many times I wrote down that very phrase.

 “Just say it.  Don’t waste so much precious time by being quiet. You have a voice. Use it”

Another one of my goals is to be more open and honest and I want to take you all on the journey. You’ve all seen the videos of our adventures but I would like to fill in the blanks for all the things you don’t get to see. I’ve always loved talking to people, trying to get more personal. But to do that you have to open yourself up first. So here I am being open and honest to all of you and hopefully make some connections along the way.

So let’s make the first step together.

Are you ready?

Love,

J.S.

Everyday Magic

Hello, Sprinkles!

First off I want to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for being so amazing. All of you have made May and me very happy with all of the positive comments, the likes, and telling everyone and your grandmother about us. We feel very loved and blessed and we are working our little Victorian butts off to make you all proud. And hopefully we will be seeing some of you guys face to face in upcoming tours (we pray). Please stay tuned as the official release date of the CD is fast approaching. Not to mention all the new merchandise. 

So today I wanted to write something personal before we jump back through the twisted metal gates of the Bastille Asylum. I am a believer in magic. I do believe that it exists and that sometimes magic just seems to speak to us.

Two weeks ago May-May had made himself a mermaid tail and I asked him to make me one too. He did and the next week I tried mine out in the pool. Ever since I was a little boy I had always wanted to be a merperson. The idea of having a tail and swimming through the sea, collecting sunken treasure, and playing with dolphins and other little fish had always been a fantasy I wanted to make true. And now here I was in the water with a bright turquoise tail covering my legs. It wasn’t easy at first but I was able to finally swim with it. I felt at home in a way and I won’t lie I very much wanted to belt out Part of your World from the Little Mermaid. For a brief hour or so I felt like mermaid. I had visions of sitting on a rock near shore and brushing my hair with a fork and holding a piece of broken glass to gaze at my reflection. I looked over at May and he was a natural. My pyromaniac pirate friend was an absolute perfect mermaid and I was so happy to share this with him. We talked of the ocean and songs and other magical things.  I really wished I had an underwater camera so I could show you all how amazing it was. Maybe the next time I’m over at May’s I’ll get a picture of each of us in our tails. Wouldn’t that be a sight ;) ?

But the magical thing about it all was that a terrible storm was fast approaching our little mermaid paradise. The sky rumbled and cracked with lightning and yet not a single drop of water nor any powerful wind breached our sanctuary. We swam for a long time and we could see the storm was very much upon us yet it never fully reached us. Maybe it was the sea nymphs and fairies. Maybe they thought we were their kin and protected us. All I know is that as soon as we dried off and headed inside the sky opened and the rain fell.

Another moment of magic was just two days ago. I went to go visit the love of my life and he was talking on the phone with his aunt. After he finished we hugged and said our hellos and he smiled happily and told me that I needed to go see something in his room. I walked in and I saw something I hadn’t seen in a very long time. A fort, a fort made of pillows and blankets. He jumped up and down and I couldn’t help but smile and laugh with him. It was another magical moment when we crawled under the fort and held each other and watched movies later that night. I felt like I was six years old again. I remember making similar forts to read my books or watch movies or to hide under if I was ever scared. That same feeling of safety and happiness washed over me as we spent hours talking about the week and the future. We laughed as we played with the fringe and tassels from the blankets. It was wonderful. The fort felt impenetrable to the outside world and even time itself. As we snuggled watching the movie I felt the best magic of all. Love.  And just like that another happy memory in my life was born.

I guess the message in today’s post is that magic is all around us if we look hard enough. It can be something as fantastic as being a mermaid or something as simple as building of small fort and being with the one you love. Never forget the magic, Sprinkles. Take joy in all the small things.

With much love and icing kisses,

J.S.

P.S. I hope you’re ready from some new characters. The Asylum is about to gain some new members. 

Survival Marks or You're a Fighter and Beautiful

Hello all! I’ve wanted to write this since I read a very beautifully written post by Miss Li-Anne and meeting some new friends rekindled that need to write this. 

So most of you know that I was in a car wreck last year. I hit my one year anniversary of that wreck, among other things, last month. How did I total my truck you ask? Well, like most of time in my life, I was running late. I had just come back home and I had forgotten to wrap my Christmas presents for my friends at school. It was cold outside but there weren’t any flakes on the ground so I thought I was going to be ok. I spent maybe an half an hour wrapping the gifts before I went outside to put all my things back in my truck. Snow, which I have labeled the ‘White Death’ at times, had covered everything. I had never in my entire life driven in snow. East Texas doesn’t get that much snow to begin with but this year it almost a blizzard. I took a breath and quickly packed my truck. It was full to the brim with laundry, bedding, the Christmas presents, and many, many more things.  I had just enough room to turn the wheel and shift gears easily. I started the truck and made my way to the road. I barely started down it before I started slipping. I pulled over and put it four-wheel-drive and started again. Much easier this time so I felt better about it. I noticed that I needed gas so I started towards town. Down the road I live on there is this hill. Towards bottom of it is a bridge. Somehow, someway, I hit  patch of black ice and I crashed into this bridge going around 40 some odd miles. Thankfully, and I do think this was the key to my survival, my laundry took most of the blow. But I when I hit the bridge the air bag went off. I was thrown forward, then back, and then forward again. This time my seatbelt had snapped and my head hit the cracked windshield.  From the middle of my head there was a zigzag and sort of loop to the right side cut. I would learn later from the EMT that I was almost scalped but thankfully that wasn’t the case.

I knew that I had wrecked and several thoughts came to me at once:

 1) Oh *%$&

2) Man after all that work on my truck and now it’s totaled. (I had just installed new brakes. Fat lot of good it did right?)

3) Oh God my mother is going to freak

4)Oooooooooow

5) Am I bleeding?

6) Can I still move my fingers, toes, neck?

7) Where is my phone? I need help

I stepped out of the truck because I knew I wasn’t going to find help just lying there. Plus I needed to know if I could still walk and with that I found my answer. However, being in a wreck can really mess with your equilibrium so after one step out I fall on my ass. I hear someone calling out to me. At first I was thinking “Light at the end of the tunnel?” but no it was a nurse who happened to be visiting a patient nearby. She had seen my wreck and had already called 911. She rushed over and applied pressure to my head and began the standard questions one would ask someone if they had a concussion. What is your name? Can you move everything? What hurts? Who is president? etc.  More thoughts began to race into my head.

How was I going to inform my friends, whom I consider family, about this?

What about Nathan?

NATHAN!

The first guy I start a relationship with (we had just made it official eight hours prior to the wreck) and I wreck.

 I am not going to die here in some ditch, like Mom had always had nightmares about, after all of that.  Damn it I am going to survive from this. *@&$ you, Death, it is not my time.

I found my drive. Despite everything being cold and incredibly bright I stayed conscious. I was taken to the local hospital where seven other people had wreck around the same time I had. I had the glass removed from my head. And the only painful thing that I experienced from that incident was not glass, or the 37 staples that were put in my head, but the IV needle. At this point everyone breathed in a sigh of relief and knew that I was going to be fine.  I was cracking jokes because I wanted to reassure everyone that I truly was alright. And after six hours on that gurney I was finally able to leave the hospital.

At first I made jokes about my scar. Like I’m a boy and I lived so I must be Harry Potter. Or that I was a mad scientists experiment and so on. But I was really insecure about it. I didn’t feel disfigured or anything but I felt…not broken but ashamed, that the scar had to be hidden. I felt as if a part of my head was missing because I couldn’t feel it for the longest time and it’s only until recently that I’ve been able to. And I don’t know why but I just felt self-conscious about. I grew my hair out and I always kept it covered. Then I was going through Veronica Varlow’s Danger Dame Diary one day and I remember how she was mauled by a dog and how she overcame that. Clarity finally set in and I realized that I was still me, scar or no scar. Not only that but I was still beautiful. Nothing had changed. And then I realized something important. My scar was not a disfigurement or something to be insecure of. I had a mark of survival on me. I had clear visible representation that I was a fighter and that was something to take pride in.  

Scars are beautiful. They show how strong you are and that you’re not going to let something like a car wreck, cancer, or a pissed off Rottweiler stop you from doing what you want to do.  I have several of them and I am proud of each and every one as should the rest of you. You are all beautiful inside and out and nothing is going to change that. 

Wear your marks with pride my friends.

Always with love and icing kisses,

Jay Scarlet

Asylum Letter IX

So here we are in 2012. I have little to no internet connection but I'm hoping to change that soon. If not I'll spend my days in coffee shops because I just can't stand not being on the blog writing all these letters. I have so much fun doing it and I hope all of you sprinkles enjoy reading them. Also I don't know if you heard but Filthy Victorians in the Dark is finally done! Here is the link right here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6XZXuTgCh8 . Also we took a trip to Austin, TX here is that link also http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TEj5IWfuT88 . Anyway on to the main event the Asylum Letters. I hope you all enjoy it.

Always with love and icing kisses,

J.S.


Asylum Letter IX from Lizzie Lobotomy at the Bastille Asylum for Misfits and Miscreants


King Takes Queen

I didn’t sleep for days after my father’s death. On the off chance that I was overcome by sleep I would dream of him falling and having to listen to that sickening sound of bone snapping was just too much to bear. Every time I sit in his office I keep expecting him to burst through the door and scold me for sitting in his chair. I miss him terribly. The funeral was well. Father is now buried next to Mother. I wonder now if he’s seen her now that he’s in Heaven. Are they watching over me? Am I making them proud?

Ben has been so helpful. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He has been my anchor in all of this chaos. I love him so much. I couldn’t bear anything else to happen now.

"Elizabeth?" I look up to see Ben holding up more papers that needed signing. "Are you feeling well?"

"I’m am." I lied. "Just a bit tired that’s all. How goes the investigation?" Ben looked down at his feet.

"Elizabeth, you already know the officers’ report." He took his hand to rest on my shoulder. "They ruled your father’s death as—"

"Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Doctor!" I snapped. "My father was an intelligent man, a sane man. He would never do something so against his nature. Suicide is for the mad." I turned around to the newly replaced window. I gingerly brought a hand to the glass. Bars had been placed behind it to prevent any "accidents" from happening again.

"I heard someone in this room with him." My hand slowly clenched into a fist. "I heard father struggling before the glass shattered. And when I looked outside the window—"

"Elizabeth—" Ben tried to stop me.

"There was someone there with him, standing over his body." I stood up and turned around. "I did not imagine it, it wasn’t a bout of hysteria, and I know I saw someone. Why does everyone keep insisting that I’m wrong? None of you were there."

"But the orderlies were." Ben snapped. "They didn’t see anyone, only you. You have no proof other than your word against four men."

"I suppose if it was only one that would be enough to convince a court that I was wrong, wouldn’t it?" I mumbled.


"What?"


"Nothing." I sigh. "It just doesn’t make sense." I pulled Father’s old pocket watch from my apron and opened it. "It’s time for the afternoon rounds. I’ll be back shortly." I felt Ben’s hand on my shoulder.

"Maybe you should rest." I felt his grip tighten. "It’ll put my mind at ease."

"Stop treating me as if I'm glass!" I shook off his hand. "I am fine, Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have rounds to do." I stepped out of the office and slammed the door behind me. I smoothed my apron before I made my way down the halls towards Ward A.

I did my best not to cry in front of others. It was hardest when I was in the Asylum. My entire life had been here and every turn around a corner there was a memory waiting for me

I'm walking down the hallway with Father as instructs me about the different types of insanity. How I needed to be educated in all these matters, for women are more susceptible to madness. I'm writing down all my notes on the inmates and Father beams with pride. I turned down the corridor past the Operating Room. I'm fourteen years old and Father is showing me the proper way to lobotomize patients. I couldn't help the tears that began to form in my eyes. I could still hear his voice, I could still smell the tobacco from his pipe, and I could still feel his hand on my shoulder, guiding me.

I don't know how I ended up there but somehow I was standing in front of Scarlet's cell.

"Aww, is wittle Wizzie crwing?" I heard him mock me. It was completely unacceptable and the fact that I was falling apart in front of him was just too much. "Are you really crying?"

"I bet you're enjoying this." I said through sobs. " 'Look there's Lobotomy, a crying mess. She got what was coming to her. All alone with no father. How hilarious'."

"I don't think that." He said very seriously. "As much as it pains me to say, I actually feel sorry for you."

"Well, that's just wonderful!" I snapped. "That's just what the doctor ordered. Pity from a lunatic!" I fell to my knees and continued to sob. Out of the corner I could see that Scarlet was at the bars of the cell and also on his knees. "What?"





"My mother died of a fever when I was seven." He said to me. "She was delirious through most of it." He chuckled. "At one point she forgot who I was. It was horrible to see that my own mother didn't even remember that she had a son." He paused and cleared his throat. "My father died when I was thirteen. Some vagrant stabbed him and stole his purse. I was alone for three days before an officer came to take me to an orphanage."

I looked up at stared at his back against the bars.

"I became an assistant to Edmund Sadini when I was fourteen and he taught me the art of magic and illusions." He continued. "He was a nice man but one day his heart gave out. I was eighteen at the time."

"Why are you telling me this?"


"People die, Elizabeth." He said simply. "Sometimes I think that there is some reason behind the death and the pain but I don't think there really is. Death just happens. It's stupid and it's inevitable. But despite that they still live on. All the memories of the people that we have lost live on through us, their successors. By telling others of them or having children and naming them after our fathers, mothers, or whomever continues their legacy."

Why was he being so kind to me? Scarlet had never once said my name to me before. Always 'Lizzie' or 'Lobotomy' never Elizabeth. Was he trying to comfort me?

"Or maybe I'm wrong." He said. "Maybe there is a Heaven above us all and all of our family is there watching us. Maybe the warm presence we feel when a memory of them surfaces is their angels smiling down on us. Despite locking me away, I liked your father."

"I did too." Naughty chimed in. "I felt really bad about his eye. I wonder if he ever forgave me for that."

"Stop talking." I muttered.

"Sorry."

"Not you." I said. "The other one. You...you were fine....Thank you." I stood up slowly and Scarlet followed in suit.

"You're welcome." He said and then wrapped his arms around me. I went to scream but he stopped me. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm offering sympathies." He pulled me in closer to the bars. "Tomorrow, however, we go back to being mortal enemies."

"Agreed." He patted my back and let me go. "For a moment I thought you were about to kiss me."

"Please." He laughed. "You're not my type. Now get back to 'curing the insane' or whatever nonsense you do."

And I did. What a day it had been already. Jason Scarlet had embraced me and had made me feel better. I really didn't think that the day could become any more strange but after doing all my rounds and delivering medications I found out I was wrong. A simple twist of the doorknob to my office proved to be the worst choice I could make.

"Oh, uh, here she is."

I looked to find Ben staring at me with a confused look on his face. I turned my eyes to my chair with someone else sitting in it. A young man with slicked back hair. He was dressed as if he had just returned from a funeral. The only white on his person, besides his skin, was the kerchief in his breast pocket. His spectacles were gold and bright.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize that we were to have company today." I curtsied. The man in my chair chuckled. "Sorry?"

"I never dreamed you'd be so...polite, Elizabeth." There was a slight accent in his voice. "You don't recognize me? Oh, Elizabeth, I'm hurt. Maybe you'd remember me if I was cowering next to you?"

"Eriq?" My eyes grew. "Eriq Bastille? Is that really you?" He smiled at me.

"Yes it is. I'm back."

"But how? Why?"

"Father died." Eriq began. "About a year ago. He fell asleep and just never woke up. We were working in Paris and I just felt so alone. I had heard about your father and I felt the need to come back to my old home and help the girl that was so much like a sister to me."

"Oh, Eriq, that is so kind of you." I smiled. "I can't wait to hear all about your life since you left and to run the asylum together--" He broke off into laughter. "Why are you laughing?"

"Elizabeth, I didn't come back to run the asylum with you." He smiled again. "I came to take it back."

"Excuse me?"

"Henry Bastille was the true owner of the Asylum but he left in it your father's care. Now that you're dear father has passed I've come to claim my birthright." My face froze. "Oh don't worry. You'll still be employed here. I'll have another room made for all the other nurses and orderlies. We'll also have to hire some new doctors. Some new blood to revitalize the heart of this place."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had it. I had it! The Bastille Asylum was under my control and this, this, sniveling little rat was trying to take it away from me.

"Now to check the patients." Eriq said.

"I've just finished rounds." I said.

"And I'm sure you did a wonderful job." He said as he took Ben's copy of the master key and exited the room. We both quickly followed. "It's been so long I can't wait to see the new inmates."

"See them?" I shouted to him. "You were terrified of them before."

"Childish fears." He shouted back. "Besides it's like going to the zoo, eh, Elizabeth?"

How he was able to find his way so easily? How long had it been and yet he still knew all the twists and turns of this whole place. I couldn't believe that this was the same Eriq that I knew. He was more confident, taller, stronger, and much more enthused about the insane than he had ever been as a child. I was sure that the old Eriq had been replaced by this man. It couldn't be him.

Somewhere along the way Ben had left us and Horace and Jasper began to chase after me. We all finally caught up with him just as he was about to reach the doors of Ward C.

"Eriq, is this really necessaryYou’ve only been here for a few minutes."

"I need to see all patients, Elizabeth." He said. "Reading records and reports is nothing compared to seeing them with my own eyes."

We stopped in front of Cell 3, Macabre and Scarlet. The both looked over to us. Scarlet locked his eyes on Eriq and gasped. He looked terrified of Eriq. Something metal clanged on the floor. I started to look for the source.

"Who are you?" Macabre asked and I looked over to Eriq

"My name is Eriq Bastille." He said. "I will be taking over this asylum as well as the position of Chief of Medicine. ‘Doctor’ or ‘Sir’ will be appropriate." He smiled to himself. It was a cold, dark smile "I’m looking forward to getting to know you both." Both of the boys shivered. When did Eriq become so menacing?

"It’s good to be home." Eriq sighed. "Well inmates to meet, medications to try. I'm sure you'll two understand. We'll have a more formal talk later." He gave them a small wave before continuing down the hall.

Again, I was in complete awe. It was almost as if I had seen two people. Eriq, happy and childish, and the other man, menacing and cold. Maybe I was hysterical. I looked over to cell one last time. I noticed something near the bars. I gasped and quickly grabbed my key. It must have fallen from my neck while Eriq was talking. I quickly looked back at Macabre and Scarlet. Scarlet was on the floor his back against the wall. He looked on the verge of tears. He looked scared. What was he muttering?

"The end, the end, the end, the end." He mumbled. "The broken tower. White Queen will be taken by the Black King. Black all black."

"Jay? Jay! Snap out of it." Macabre tried to rouse him out of his episode.



I began back down the corridor. I didn't like any of this. I was not going to take Eriq's return without a fight. I would regain my lost position and I would get my Asylum back.



At any means necessary.


Sincerely,



Lizzie Lobotomy