My name is Maple, not like the tree, like the person, me. I suppose you want to know how old I am, and how my eyes are like melting glaciers and that my hair is like a scorched wheat field, and if you cut my arm off you'd find that there are seventeen rings, for each of the years I've lived. I'm not writing this for you, for her, or him, not even them, I don't even know if I'm writing this for myself. I guess I'm writing this for someone, actually probably anyone. I'm not even sure what this book, if it even turns out to be a book, is about. It'll probably end up being about me, as it is narrated by me, Maple Taylor. That seems self-centered and narcissistic, but I don't mind. I have things to say, things to be heard, and I'm not afraid to say them. My name is Maple Isabelle Taylor, I'm seventeen years old, and I have an eating disorder; that's not even the start of it. December 10th, a Thursday at 8:45 give or take a few minutes I tried to kill myself, by cutting my wrist one last time. I spent 22 days in a mental hospital, commonly known as the psych ward. Now, I bet, no, I know that you want to know how I got this way. I know you do, and I'm smiling right now writing this, not because it's funny, but because most of you who are reading this, think I'm crazy. I'm not crazy, though at times I do feel crazy, I am not. So let's start at the beginning, shall we?
It was fifth grade, we were going on a field trip, the fifth grade field trip that I'd been waiting for since 3rd grade; the winter ski trip. I was ten years old then. I have always been the adventurous outdoorsy type of person, and this new thing, that I had never done before, excited me greatly. My teacher handed out the slips to fill out for the ski rentals, your name, age, height, and - weight. I remember another girl handing her slip in before I did, I glanced it on the teacher's desk, her weight said 89 pounds. She was tall and pretty, and thin, though she was mean and not many people liked her, she was pretty, so it didn't matter. I went home and took the scale off the top cabinet shelf, stood on it and watch the bar go up, 102. I panicked. This was the first time, I realized weight. I remember crying about it, stepping on the scale, then off, then on again, then off again. I wrote down 98 pounds on the sheet, and the next morning when I put it in the pile I carefully slipped it underneath the pile and hid under my clothes. Never again would I see myself the same.
So here I am now, seventeen; seven years later and nothing has changed, except for the fact that I've only managed to get worse. I developed depression, eating disorders, and self harm; none I am proud of, not that I could help any of them. I fell deep, and no one, not one person saw me fall, only me. I was like the only tree in an entire prairie, a vast prairie and I fell - alone. It wasn't until they were ready to burn that prairie down that they noticed this half dead fallen tree. (It's only fair I make tree comparisons due to my name.)
Reality.
I'm really suppose to be writing my "Drug Research Paper" right now, the one that's late already, the one that if I don't turn in I will not graduate. I'd like to write it, but well I don't really know why I'm not; and that is the truth. I don't know why I do a lot of things, or don't do. My mind is wandering, as it does all the time and I'm only thinking about how it's only Tuesday and six days ago I stood out in front of the school, crying on the phone to my Mom, about just how broken we all really are. She doesn't see it that way, no one does, I only do, and that's what people say is wrong with me. Nothings wrong with me, I'm perfectly fine; that's what I always say, and then I laugh, because it is a joke. Then I think about all the numbers, the calories, zero today, less than zero because you burn calories throughout the day, so negative zero calories today! That makes me smile, then frown because I know what that means. I'm entering the "fun house" again. You know, the "fun house" they're supposed to be "fun" but then you get in there, and there are too many mirrors, and scary things, and then you get lost, eventually you give up, find a corner and cry, because you're so lost and the only thing you see, is you, because you're surrounded by mirrors and turning tunnels and scary clown faces. Everyone, always wants to go into the fun house at fairs and stuff, yea, a lot can go in and out like nothing, then there are the ones who get stuck, I'm one of those who got stuck but got out after a year, but now the temptation is too rich not to go back in, I want the adventure again. That terrifying adventure. It's different this time, because I know the way out this time, I know all the tricks this house plays, I know all the games. I handed the man my ticket, and he pushed me inside, but he didn't need to push me, surely, I would have walked in on my own.
The Fun House.
I bought the tickets, and pondered the thought of wish rides I would go on. I sat drunkenly sad on the roller-coaster, unphased by the ups and downs, went on the bumper cars, I didn't mind my neck being spun on my head, I stood alone in the midst of fair goers, lost, drunk, dizzy, with my feet planted lightly, so lightly I believe I could have floated away, that's what it felt like, it felt like I was floating. I stood facing the "Fun House", it was dark outside and the brightly lit smile of the clown welcomed my solemn body. The air was red and blue, with carnival lights, my eyes danced from each one, flashing, and spinning, I felt dizzy. I was wearing my favorite shorts, olive green with the pockets hanging out the bottom. They looked nice against my tan skin; they'd look nicer if I could shed these extra ten to fifteen pounds. The thought of my thighs made my heart heavy and my stomach drop to my ankles. You're supposed to look your best when you go into the "Fun House", so then you can hear how much you actually look like shit. So I chose my loose pink tank top, it buttoned half way down the shirt, and it hung loosely over my skin, tucked into my shorts. I didn't look amazing, but I didn't look bad. The dark pink tones brought out the tan in my skin, and it was a nice contrast against my boring un-dyed blonde hair. My hair was longer since the last time I was in the "fun house", the ragged strands hung like a weeping willow's branches, protecting my past, my mistakes from the judgmental eyes of fair goers. I remained with my feet in the dirt, standing, staring ahead of me, my fate; the "fun house". My eyes were heavy and my stomach was tight and in pain, I gripped the strap of my bag that hung even at my waist, I clenched my jaw, and took one step forward. I moved forward, at a steady pace, watching small children run in and out of the "fun house", I watched teenage girls with boyfriends at their hands, walk in and coming tumbling and laughing out. Then you see the other ones, the ones that won't coming running out with gay smiles across their faces, the ones that stand in front of entrance heavy in their steps and eyes, they hand the man their ticket, and never come back out. I saw one girl go in ahead of me; I knew that she wasn't one that was going to make it out. I saw her back when I was standing, watching the "fun house", she was watching it too, with sad dark brown eyes, and dark brown hair, maybe even black. She was small, she was wearing skinny jeans with rips in the knees and a red striped shirt, when she walked in she looked back and our eyes met, I looked away quickly and she turned slowly toward the entrance, and with a small shove from the ticket man, she entered the fun house, and I could tell, she'd been here before. I stopped again, the ticket man smiled and waved at me, and I looked down, reached in my bag and grabbed my ticket and held it tight, in my hands. I let two young glee filled children run in before me, a girl and a boy, they must have been siblings, both brown haired with the same eyes and nose. I smiled, they were cute. I looked behind me, to where I once stood, nothing but my footprints remained and soon those too would disappear. I stood waiting for my mind to make up a decision, the bright lights wanted me to step forward, but my footprints wanted me back. I let one more girl go in ahead; she was bigger, but not bad. She'd never been here before, I could see the defeat in her eyes, but she held no fear, like the girl before her, this girl handed the man her ticket, steeped in the door and shut it behind her with a smile of anger on her face. The ticket man looked at me again, he smiled and waved and I looked back behind me quickly, "oh miss, are you coming or not?" his voice was enticing, in a manner of sarcasm and pure a friendly nature, almost saying "come, you could belong to something." "belong" not as in, be "owned" but be a "part of" and that was a great deal of enticement. I bit my nails and nodded with my eyes and he smiled. I didn't smile back, I bit my nails harder. I took a step forward again, my feet didn't leave the ground, and just as I was about to step up the first step, I saw one girl, a skinny sad sickly looking girl stumble out, her eyes like she hadn't seen light in so long, she looked at me, her eyes wide and blinking rapidly, she was thin, tall and her hair long and brown, she stood staring at me, as I did to her. Then she turned away towards the rest of the world and walked, I watched her walk away. Her arms were crossed at first, scared and insecure with the world, then she picked up her pace, her arms at her side now she ran, she ran and ran and ran, her bare feet against the dusty ground, she looked back once, her eyes teary and she stopped looked at me, wiped her eyes, turned away and continued running. She was so afraid, so sad, yet so determined, she was leaving this place behind. I noticed on her arm, two red lines, for each time she'd been there, that was her second time, this was my second time, I had a red line, one, permanently engraved on the inside of my shoulder blade, and I would have one more, above the first one, I looked forward, the man turned his grimace to a smile as soon as my head turned to him, he reached out his hand "ticket please" I looked to my hand that held the ticket, I swallowed, handed him the ticket and with a firm shove, I entered the fun house.
Reality.
There is ten minutes left of class, 2:20, I'm in psychology, we're watching "The Secret Window" you know the one where Jonny Depp plays the role of a man who basically goes nuts. I hate writing in class, people are so nosy, and I couldn't stand them to find out. Bailey who sits behind me, to the right, I'm sure she'd just love it if she found out, I know once we get out of here she'll question me, and I'll take it, as I always do. The bell rang, 2:30. I folded up my notebook and held it tight against my chest and walked out of the room. Right as I turned into the hallway Bailey grabbed my shoulder and smiled, "what were you writing?" she smiled, I rolled my eyes and turned to her, "nothing" I smiled a laughed. "You're so weird" she laughed and walked away. That was her favorite line to say to me "you're so weird" - I always laughed at it. At least I'm not normal, like her, she walks through the hallways and her face is as monotone as a white wall. I turned around, clenched my fist and punched the air, oh how I wished it was her face. I clipped my backpack straps so I could walk home with out it sliding off the smooth texture of my rain coat. I pushed through the crowds of everyone standing in every inconvenient place possible, and walked through the door that was already open from someone who had just walked through it. The wind was cold and it was raining hard. I flipped up my hood and started walking home. I watched as my "friends" drove past me, as I walked soaking wet along this minnie stream of a sidewalk. It angered me how, they just didn't care. I laughed. I never really minded the walk to and from school, it was only ten minutes and it gave me time to think and talk aloud to myself. My clothes were soaked and I felt like I was submerged in a river, walking upstream against the wind, I wish I could continue walking, forever. I didn't want to go home, to that house, that empty empty house. I turned onto my street and thought about how hungry I really was. My stomach was tight and my head was light and heavy all at once. I thought of all the food I would have to face once I walked through those doors, everything would be fine until I opened that door and had to walk through the kitchen; hell. You're only going to run 3 miles at the most for track, you can do that on zero calories; you don't have to eat for three miles. I stopped, opened the gait with my hands curled up in my jacket, I walked up the stairs and onto the deck; I loved the smell of the deck when it rained, cedar. I paused to open the door; you can do this, just go straight to your room. I opened the door, the handle was wet even under the over hang, I stepped inside, dropped my backpack by the dogs food dishes and walked cautiously past the fridge and pantry cupboard. I opened the office door, my mom was on the computer, and my two dogs were curled up next to the desk. Flik lifted his head and stretched with his but up in the air, he walked toward me wiggling his butt, I smiled patted him on the head "Hey Flik." George was under the desk, I could hear his tail thumping against the wood, he was lazy, but I knew he was happy that I was home. "Where's my kitten?" I asked my Mom, she didn't look away from the computer, and I think she was doing taxes. "Somewhere around here." I frowned "ok." I walked up the stairs to my room; I thought he may be there, since he likes to sleep on my old jacket. Flik followed me to my room, his body pressed against mine, I pat his head again, he wiggled in joy. Not to my surprise, there he was curled into a small ball in the middle of the fur part of the jacket. Flik ran up to him and nudged him with his nose, Flik and Sparrow were truly best friends, even though Flik is a dog and Sparrow is an eight week old kitten. I thought it was cute. Sparrow yawned and looked up to me with his groggy now green eyes. "Hey Sparrow." I picked him up and held him close to my chest; he dug his head into the crook of my arm and fell asleep again. I smiled; I loved holding Sparrow when he slept. I walked down the hall way and went to go sit on the couch, I laid down and placed Sparrow on my stomach, he stood up, dizzy and groggy in his movement. I knew he wanted to curl up under my shirt, he always loves that, so I lifted up the bottom of my shirt and he crawled in and placed his head next to my ribs and purred. I loved the feeling of his soft baby fur against my skin, how it felt when he purred, I could have fallen asleep, but I needed to go to track in fifteen minutes. Flik placed himself next to me, sitting with his panting mouth directly on my face. I laid staring at the ceiling, my stomach so tight, in so much pain, but I was winning, today I would win. I glanced over to the clock, 3:15, I slipped Sparrow out from my shirt and walked to my room, took my clothes off and put my track clothes on, it was cold and raining and windy out, so I dug the heaping messy pile of clothes on the floor and pulled out a long sleeved shirt, the only long sleeved shirt I have. I pulled it over my head, threw some shorts on and my black straight legged running pants. I liked my running pants; they made my legs look long and thin. I stepped into my running shoes, grabbed the keys for the car and ran out the door. The rain had not let up at all and the wind shield was plagued with raindrops and the wind-shield wipers only made it worse, I rolled my eyes, the wipers needed to be replaced. I loved track, it was the only place I was confident, were I felt relatively appreciated.
I ran in, peered my head into the athletic trainer’s office "Hey Anna!" I said joyfully, she smiled "Hey Maple! How are you?" I walked in, "I'm good, just going to track!" she smiled "Have fun!" I smiled, "thanks! I will!" and I ran out down the hallway and out to the track. I looked for my friends, Holly, Erin, Ally and Derek. "Hey Holly." I put my hand on her shoulder and she turned to me with a smile "oh hey Maple!" I sat down next to Holly and Ally.
House
He’s yelling at me, I’m sitting here and he’s yelling at me. He will never understand the world I face. He laughed, "Those people don't care about you, it's just a little game they play, if you disappeared they would never take notice." I laughed, crying, because of how wrong he was. "Fine, think what you want to." I choked out through my tears. Truth was, they cared more about me than anyone I knew; I had to laugh at him, from the fact of how utterly wrong he was! When I was gone in the hospital, no one, not one person texted me asking where I was, no one stopped by my house to see where I was, no one even asked my sister where I was. So I had to laugh at him, people here, the people here don't care about me! But I couldn't be completely mad at him; I just blame it on his ignorance, for he is a very ignorant man. I knew the people who cared, I knew, and well none of them sit in the desk of my school. That's ok, I'm almost done, I'm a senior and there are 3 fucking long weeks left of school. He's still yelling at me, I don't exactly know what he's saying, since I just don't listen to him anymore. He is most likely talking a bout how much they've done for me, took me to soccer (forgetting about all the times they forgot to pick me up), bought me all the things I need, did this and that. He says that every time and even my therapist told him that means nothing, well it does because it is nice to do, but none of that matters right now. Then I heard him say "all we've done is love you" with that my body tightened, all the oceans in the world right then rushed to fill my body, I shook my head, trying not to say "yeah fucking right." I held my words back, I took his words, I was numb to them now, I didn't care, no that is a lie, I did, I cared and I held them with me and they sat in my stomach like rotting carcasses of baby dears. "I know your little games" he smirked, I didn't look at him, I knew he was smirking by the tone of his voice almost like he was laughing at me. I smiled. "ok" he wanted more, he wanted that reaction, fuck if I'd give that satisfaction to him. "I don't know what you want." I smiled again, just to match his, "I don't know what you want." I said calmly, "I know what you want." I laughed silently, "You jsut said you didn't know what I wanted!" he paused, i could tell he knew he what he did there, but being him he denied it "I know what you want." I smiled again at his idiocy. "ok then, what do I want?" he was silent, "you tell me?" he threw back at me, I laughed, I knew what I wanted, but he didn't. "no, you say you know what I want, tell me." My body tightened, I wanted to rip his throat out and scream to him what I really wanted, "don't turn this around on me." I chuckled, "no Dad, don't turn this around on me, you say you know what I want, so you tell me." I was crying, "You want us to leave you alone." I laughed and cried all at once, "nope" I responded meekly. "Yes that could be, but I'm pretty sure that a universal want of a seventeen year old." I was crying, I did not look at him, I hated looking at him, I hated seeing his ignorance. "Well then, what do you want!?" he laughed; I shook my head and laughed. "see you don't even know." he laughed, "no, I know, I just don't want to tell you." I cried, I cried. I wanted them to understand, to love me, to tell me it's ok, I wanted them to leave me alone, I wanted him to think before he spoke, I wanted to leave, I wanted to fix this family, I wanted a new family, I wanted here "I love you" so much that it made me sick to my stomach to hear the words, that’s what i wanted. I would never tell them though, I never wanted to hurt them like that, and plus, they'd deny everything; like they always do. I opened my mouth to say something, "You don't know! this is just your game." I cried more, game, this is not a game! this is my life, my and life is not a game. "I do know." I said calmly under my tears. "I do know." - "then why don't you say!" I wanted to pound my head through the wall. I took a breath. "I want a different family, instead of this stupid one." I said, it wasn't a lie, but that was just the one that came out first. He laughed. "Well that's too bad because it's not going to happen." - "yep." my voice shook and my eyes hurt. "We've gone crazy trying to figure out how to work with you!" - "I guess you'll have to go crazier then." I sighed, why didn't I just walk away, why didn't I just get up and leave, even though he'd just follow me and continue his useless fight. "see it's your game, you want us to go crazy!" I shook my head, "no, I don't have a game, I have a life, and I don't want you to go crazy." I clenched my hands tightly shut. "I don't know why you're like this Maple; we've done everything we possibly could for you!" I stood up, "because I have issues!" I cried and pushed past him, "what issues! tell me these issues." he spoke sarcastically, like it was a joke, he was the joke. I ran up to my room, past my mom who was sitting on the stairs listening, of course she wouldn't do anything to help me, but why would I even think that she would? I pushed opened my door and slammed it shut, I didn't care if it broke even more, I didn't. Flik was already on my bed and I buried my face in his soft brown coat, and I cried. Flik though, he never really was the cuddly sort of dog, so he squirmed and got off and laid on the floor, I hugged the bear my aunt had given to me when I broke my arm in forth grade, and looked out the window, it was dark, the stupid tungsten street lights glowed and the light rays danced through the air. I opened my window and pushed out the screen, it fell against the roof I as I was about to crawl out I saw the shadow of the porch door open, my Dad stood out, looked up at my window and laughed. I threw my clock at him, then my phone (stupidly) and then the screen of my window, I didn't care, he was an idiot, and idiots get things thrown at them. I sat in the darkness of my room, alone. My head spinning in pain from the amount of salt water pouring out of them. I cried. My door opened, my dad punched through it, I crawled out my window, and in his sarcastic tone, "oh that not smart" he laughed, "I'm not smart." I hugged my knees to my chest; the porch roof was steep and not very good for lounging on. "Come off there right now." he said, "No, go away." I cried. "Well I guess I'll have to call the police then." I rolled my eyes, "fine, I don't care, show the whole neighborhood what a fuck up family we are." I stared out straight across the road, focusing my eyes on the tree branches then the house across the street. "Do you need to go back to the hospital?" I smiled, "sure, it's better than being here. Now go away please." I said calmly and my voice shook. He pulled his head back out of the window, "fine." I sighed; I hated my life like this. I sat on the roof, quietly, only with my puffy cheeks, and the cold air. My mom then came and stuck her head out, she talked, I didn't want to. I was sick of talking, sick of wasting my breath. I told her things how I felt, and she would rationally tell me that I was wrong, successfully making me feel more insane. My mom was really good at pretending to care, she was only like this, this as is talking to me calmly and trying to make me feel better when I was on the verge of killing myself, I found it incredibly stupid. I sat on the roof until I couldn't feel my feet anymore; my knees ached from bending them so close to me. It was midnight when my mom left, I remained on the roof, I didn't want to go back in. The air was quiet, and I played with the rays of light beaming off of the street lights. I looked over far to the right, Sparrow's little head peered out and he meowed, he stepped out and crawled cautiously over to me and crawled into my lap purring. He was only eight weeks but he was already so perfect, and had felt the dampness of my tears too much. I sighed and thought about everything, how easily I could fall - die. How nothing will ever change. Sparrow looked up to me and meowed, I sighed, "ok we'll go in." I stood up, my knees ached, I clung to the edge of the house, and the roof was steep. I crawled through the window, the heat from the house warmed my skin and I laid down on the cool mattress sheet.
I stayed up late that night, watching Criminal Minds and petting Sparrow as he slept on my legs. It's rather difficult to sleep at night when all I can think about is everything and nothing all at once. It's confusing, because really, none of this means anything, nothing at all. The next morning I'll wake up and the world will grow too large for me to handle, and I'd rather wither away in my skin than face that, plus I knew my eyes would be absolutely swallon shut from the amount I cried last night, people would be dumb, and ask why, I'd make up some story, like I always do. So I crawled into myself that morning, I didn't want to come out. My Mom told me "I'm not calling you in sick." I didn't care, fuck, I never cared about anything any more, and obviously she just chose not to understand. I probably would have been alot better, if she just sat down and asked me if I was ok, and what was wrong, but she didn't. She told me to suck it up and go to school. I hate school, all it does is remind me of how no one actually gives a damn about me. I hate feeling worthless to people, I hate people who make me feel worthless. I sat on the crouch crying, I didn't know why I was crying, probably pure anxiety, and the fact that I was upset by my Mom's actions. How could she "care" last night, and this morning, she doesn't, oh, because I was outside sitting on the roof, that's right. I wanted to run up to my room and take a pair of scissors and cut my skin open, the skin right on the inside of my wrist, where the skin is blue. I ran upstairs and held the blade, stained with blood from previous regrets, and held it against my skin pushing down but not slicing it. I cried. I heard the door knob turn and i threw the scissors across my room and hid under my blankets. "what are we going to do here?" my mom sighed, she was dissapointed in me. "i don't care." I rolled my eyes, "that won't get you anywhere." and again I said "I don't care." she walked towards my bed, "well, you have to go to school." she sat down on my bed, I sighed and my heart beat fast. "I know, and I just, don't care." my heart was racing now, I felt like the world was closing in on me, like I was sinking farther and deeper into the ocean. "When do you want to go in?" she sighed, she hated giving in. "I don't know." My heart beat faster, I swallowed hard, I felt wrong. "When is English?" she still thinks we're learning even after AP tresting, "second hour, but we're just watching movies, just let me go to fourth hour." She sighed, "fine." I hid under my blankets and tried to control my heart beats, I couldn't sleep even though I was very tired. I did though fall asleep, my eyes were heavy, I needed to sleep.
The Fun House.
I had seen this all before. It's a big black room with one mirror on the far side, and you can see yourself in it from anywhere in the room. I walked to it, the room intoxicated me and made the world spin slower. I placed my hand on it, and let it fall down, slowly. I stared at myself, my eyes, my blue eyes, sometimes even green, then grey too. I let out a shaky sigh, and pressed my forehead against the mirror, and stood there looking at my feet, watching my tears hit my toes. People ran through the room, screaming in joy, looking for the door out, to the next room, those were just the kids that came in and out the same day. I sat down, crossed my legs, and stared at the mirror. If you stare long enough in the mirror, it's like a bad song, if you listen to it long enough, you'll like it, I hope that was the same for the mirror. The room was toned green, and it felt like you were in a horror movie excpet you weren't, because it's your life. I saw in the mirror another girl, she was tall, slender, with blue eyes. She stood over me, shoulders slumped, eyes hollow, her feet planted heavily, her hair; a very light blonde was parted down the center, she looked like a model. The kind of model you see in the fashion magazines, the ones that with the stares that have death in their eyes, the ones everyone thinks are beautiful. I pretended not to look at her, she looked sad, her arms hung loose, heavy at her sides and her palms were open facing the mirror. I really could not get over her beauty, the structure of her bones, how her knee caps were well defined, her jaw and cheeks; perfect. She blinked a lot, her eyes were bluer than mine, almost piercing blue; they were filled with her pain, that's why. She didn't look at me once, she just - stared. It looked like she was going to cry, until she choked out a hollow meek "hey." she closed her eyes slowly, and cracked the pointer finger on her left hand. I breathed heavily, and bit the lower right corner of my cheek, like I always do when I get nervous. "hi." I breathed out. She didn't say anything back, nor did I. She just stood there, dressed in her tan skin and covered by a loose fitting off-white dress. We remained their fixated at ourselves in the mirror, their are no clocks in this part of the fun house, I didn't know how long it was until she spoke again. "what do we do?" Her voice was soft, airy like. She squinted her eyes. "I, I don't know." I shook my head, not looking at her, she still really had not looked at me either. I was wondering how long we'd remain here, how many others would come in. She took a step closer to the mirror and cried silently. "Why am I here?" she whimpered, I put my head down, and bit my lip harder, my heart was beating fast. "What have I done?" she looked at herself, into herself with her hollow tear filled eyes. She took a breath, a deep breath, and stopped crying. She looked down at me finally, sniffling slightly, she spoke in her angelic voice "I'm Ivy." she tried to crack a smile, but it was filled with the pain from her stomach. "Hi, I'm Maple." I smiled a half smile and swallowed back all my tears. Ivy sat down next to me, crossed her legs, and pinched the skin in her palms. I didn't really feel like talking, I don't think she really wanted to either. My toes curled in and out, and my legs were jumpy. Ivy continually glanced back and forth to my jittery legs to her face in the mirror. "Anxiety." I said in a very factual unemotional manner, staring at my eyes in the mirror. She nodded. I knew what to do now, I knew how to get to the next room, well at least I knew from last time, I didn't know if they had changed things from the last time. I stood up, Ivy looked up, wide eyed, I looked down at her, but didn't say anything. I walked to the left, to a wall, Ivy got up and followed behind me. I was sure that Ivy had never been here before, though I could be wrong, but she must be really good at fooling people to have been here before. I was usually the really outgoing friendly girl, but here, here it didn't matter who you were anymore, because here, here you are nothing. "there is a door over here somewhere." I felt the wall, the room was very dimly lit, and Ivy was confused. "How do you know that?" She stood behind me, as I pushed against the wall. "because, I was just here, not too long ago." I didn't look at her, and jsut as she spoke "oh." The wall fell open to the next room. I remember this from last time, this room. I looked into it and it looked right back at me. Full of mirrors, no one thinks it's really a scary place, you've probably been in a "mirror" room before. Ivy walked up next to me, and stood in the doorway. She looked straight forward. "should we go?" She asked? I stood silent, the memories of this room last time haunted me. I wanted to go back to the other room, the one with just the mirror. It only gets worse from here. "It's a horrible room, but if you don't go, you'll never get out." Ivy looked at me, I could see her in the mirrors, she was nervous, I could feel it in her breathing. "should we go?" she asked again, and with that, I took a step forward and shut the door behind us. You can't ever turn back, you can never go back, no matter how much you cry and pound on that door, how you beg and plead, you can never go back. You always have to move forward, no matter how long it takes you. We were surrounded by mirrors, I knew there would be others lost in this maze, I knew I'd stumble upon girls lost in the corners pounding their heads against the mirrors until they bleed, crying, not even begging for your help. This is the room that will break you.
I took a step into the beginning of the maze, and pushed my way through, Ivy struggled to keep up and find her way. I did not know the way, last time I was here there was so much twisting and turning that I could never remember the exact route, the route at all. There were no small children in this maze, no happy frolicking love filled teenagers, only the broken hurt filled came to this room. The mirrors were murky, yet you could clearly see yourself, you saw yourself any way you wanted to, you could see the bones, you could see the skin, or you could see the fat, whatever you want, whenever you want. Some mirrors had rust on them, some mirrors had blood one them, from the ones who smash their fists into the mirrors, press their heads so hard into the glass it breaks. Some mirrors were cracked and sometimes there was broken glass on the floor. I could hear girls crying, but I couldn't see them, then I could see other girls running through but not hear them, it was only their reflection in all the mirrors. I looked behind me, Ivy was there, trailing loyaly behind me. I knew she thought I knew the exact way out, I didn't, and I knew that she didn't know how bad it gets here.
