[h2]The Mad Hatter[/h2]


As the cab driver pulled up to the driveway, a lump formed in Hatter's throat. He found himself staring down the driveway at an enormous castle with red roofing. The cab driver gave a high pitched whistle as if he was reading Hatter's thoughts. "That's some place, kid..." Hatter raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. 

"Aye..." He muttered. He got out of the cab and stood on the asphalt. He reached in and grabbed his black rolling suitcase and sat it on the asphalt. He then grabbed his banjo and mandolin from the back seat. "Th-thanks for the ride, mate." He said in his Irish accent, and handed him the allotted sum for the ride. 

The cab drove of and hatter started his walk down the long driveway. He adjusted the strap of his banjo case to rest on his shoulder as observed the surroundings. He'd received an invitation to this school, and the people in his foster home had insisted he go. They'd told him it would be "a good learning experience" and "a chance to meet new friends". The bitter part of Hatter was sure they just wanted to get rid of him... It was always the same thing at each school, and they knew that. Hatter never had any friends - and he probably never would. 

As he reached the castle, he saw a growing crowd of teenagers, standing at the steps, looking up at an elderly woman with a kind smile on her face. Yep, he was late... Hatter almost sighed in annoyance - attention for being late was [i]exactly[/i] what he [i]didn't[/i] want... Yet, he felt the gazes of the other teens shift to him, and he wished the ground would just swallow him up. He set his jaw and did the best to ignore them, standing his suitcase upright and setting his mandolin case on the ground. His fingers curled around the shoulder straps of his banjo case and he waited for... whatever was supposed to happen.