House of Mirrors

This feels exactly like being trapped in a burning building. It was a healthy combination of claustrophobia and heart-aching hopelessness. I wouldn’t go as far as saying this feels exactly like burning alive, but it feels exactly like almost being burned alive. The once light, liquid atmosphere quickly hardens into seriousness as minutes, disguised as hours, pass by. My heart beats begin to quicken into a harsh cacophony as the reality of my situation dawns upon me. Repeatedly, I close my eyes and open them, failing to acquire the relief I so fiercely desire. No one is left but me, me, and me. Three pairs of arms move in unison frantically pushing for an exit. Glass walls disguised as doors mock me and confine me. The color red, once my best friend, casts a glow down onto me, me, and me. Three pairs of feet run towards another wrong turn. I am stuck in this maze of endless faces disparaging me. The perspiration of my shallow breaths condenses on the cold mirror before me, a reminder of the shower I took before coming here. It’s a distant memory, hazy and liquid, not staying long enough to materialize. Weighing down my bones, fright finds a home in my body. It sits on my throat with its bulky weight robbing me of the use of my voice. I make another wrong turn, then another. My efforts lay in vain swimming along with my other failures. “Anastasia! It’s not funny anymore. Where are you?” I breathlessly scream, putting all my effort into every last letter.

Florida’s Funky Funfair was lovely this time of year. With the golden sun gilding our skin and the azure sky damasked with puffy white cotton candy, similar to the one between my hands, I could see why everyone wanted to be here. Ana and I stood in line waiting to be let on to the “Rollercoaster Extravaganza”. It greeted us from afar with celebratory loops and swirls reminiscent of the swirls in my stomach as I awaited. “Three more people are ahead of us, Viv!” she excitedly chatters. “I’m excited, yet so on edge,” I responded eagerly, as the butterfliesswarm around in my stomach along with the cotton clouds I ate earlier. I made my way to the trash can to discard of what was left of my candy with my gray eyes still on Ana. A momentary blink, a second’s worth of relief, soothed the arrhythmia the adrenaline gave me. I made my way back to Ana distracted by the clashing sounds morphing into each other around me like an impressionist painting. Abruptly, I walked into a stranger. Green eyes and brown curls addressed me. “Be careful, love. It’s crowded out here,” he softly warns. His whispers created a soft bubble isolating us from the world. Staring into his eyes, I saw emerald, then a brief alarming hint of red, then green once again. Thinking I imagined the inexplicable scenario, pink cheeks and rapid heartbeats responded ahead of me as I averted my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I muttered shyly, an incompetent five-letter word dripping with shame from every crevice. I inched my way backwards towards sanity, safety, and home carrying crimson eyes in my head- a souvenir from this strange exchange. My sudden, fast-paced steps away from the stranger burst our bubble, coating me in embarrassment. “What took you so long?” She immediately questioned upon my arrival. Pink cheeks and rapid heartbeats responded ahead of me as I averted my eyes. “Viv? What happened?” she incessantly asked. Red cheeks and rapid heartbeats responded ahead of me as I averted my eyes. “Nothing. Nothing happened Ana, I’m alright,” I retorted trying to calm her down. “Anyways, let’s place our bags in these boxes; we’re almost at the front of the ride,” she says while giving me a weird look and a subtle roll of her eyes -putting the brakes on this conversation.

We spent all day in the theme park. We went on the rollercoaster, the ring-toss stand, and the bowling alley. I even won a giant, blue bear, the perfect end to this day. Before we left the fair, Ana and I headed to the “Haunted House of Mirrors”. I was never really a fan of horror, but I figured a glass maze would be harmless. With Anastasia ahead of me, we walked into the red room, our fingers intertwined. A quick glance around the maze galvanized me, and I tightened my grip on Ana. “This should be fun,” I dryly exclaimed. “Don’t worry about it, Viv. I'm here aren’t I?” she responded gripping my hand equally hard. Her palm exuded the warmth of the sun making me feel at ease. We walked through the maze with our giggles flying up into the air. Ana then slipped her hands out of mine and walked up ahead of me, instinctively assuming the leadership position. “Close your eyes. Let’s play a game,” she whispered softly. Instantly, I open my eyes in distrust just witnessing her shadow leaving. I followed suit in the direction I presumed she went. It was hard to distinguish reality from fantasy. “Ana?” I inquire, my voice laced with humor. I stride into the maze with a bit of adrenaline sparking at the base of my spine.

I’ve always hated mirrors. The most distorted images of myself were the real ones. I battle with my worst enemy in crimson light, pushing against glass reflections masked as doors. As minutes disappear ahead of me and I behind, I begin to worry. Anxiety forms a deep pit inside of my stomach. Crimson-coated eyes take shape in the mirror behind me, ahead of me, and behind me. Then they disappear into nothing carrying my sanity in their rosy glare. “Ana, I swear to God!” I scream a clarion into the now scalding atmosphere. My heart beats to the shrill pitch of my voice as panic overtakes me. Now more frantic, I push against every nook and cranny of this bloody fair game. My walk quickens shape-shifting into a run. Every wrong turn satiates me. I now carry the black sludge that is desperation inside of me. It slows me down and turns my limbs to jelly. Fear blurs my vision till I feel tears sliding down my cheeks. I quickly wipe away at the intruder in humiliation. Turning my head every which way, I suddenly sense an unwanted presence behind me. It feels like an invisible force is embracing me. Curiously, I turn my head towards the nearest mirror taking in the sight in front of me. A dark cloud is whirling ahead of me, behind me, and ahead of me. Suddenly, it swooshes into a tornado-like appearance surrounding me. The dun clouds enter through my mouth blocking my voice box as if predicting my next moves. “A bit mousy now, aren’t we?” green eyes speak subtly into my ears, “Boo!” 

My composure slowly trickles into the suck and swish of a bloody bathtub drain; the surrounding, endless walls of floor-to-ceiling mirrors casting my waxen fearful expression right back at me. Taunting me, mimicking me, exploiting me. Laying me bare and frightened for no one to witness except myself. It was reminiscent of my days in the studio when I would poke and prod at my worst features in the strong light of the practice room. Every day, from dusk till dawn I would dance on the tips of my toes till they bled a deep crimson into my shoes, then I would spend the rest of the few hours of free time washing out the multiple stains on my leotard and shoes. The glassy repeated images of my concerned frown slip away into forever, from every single angle. Doomed red lighting continuously hovers overhead, the audibly silent and visually deafening strobe light dances to the opposing pulse of my heartbeat: a subtle routine I taught myself in 5th grade. I struggle with the many images of myself attempting to seek approval from either one so that I could at least come out of the other end a friend of my own. The darkness swirling around me, inside of me, and around me sends my heart into the peak of its routine. I am locked in place for two reasons. The same two reasons that stabilized me at 9 years staring at the television with wide eyes and fear akin to that of someone burning alive: I have to prove to people I was capable, that I am perfect, and I am silently horrified in place.

Trapped in this cage, my thoughts begin to take the shape of other demons, some small, some tall, some heavy and overbearing, but demons, nonetheless. Distraught with the black features clouding my vision and my bare self laid out from many different perspectives, I speak aloud as 3 of my selves reiterate back to me just as urgently, “it is only during these moments that three is more useless than one. It is only at these moments when my claustrophobia traps me which is in itself an irony. One I can’t bear to think about. I hate this. I hate watching my body from 3 different angles. I hate you.” I point confusedly at the darkest shadow of all, the one that was swirling around me earlier. “I hate you most of all because you claim I am crazy, but I can’t be. Know that I am sane, and how I dread being sane because how I dread my mind and all that it has dragged me through,” I continue to claim to particularly no one. “This is so pathetic. It’s pathetic that there’s all three of us here, yet all 3 have given up. Here I am crying.” I move my knuckles briefly knocking them into the mirror as an epiphany comes to me. “Maybe I am insane. Thinking back to the previous experiences of my life, maybe I’ve made them all up. Maybe if I close my eyes, everything will disappear back to its origin.” I say urgently. I begin to demonstrate to all of my selves in the red mirror with a dry, croaky voice, “A broken mirror is a bad omen. A broken mirror is a bad omen, A broken mirror is a bad omen,” I repeat resisting the urge to attack myself and this big black ugly thing. 

In my frozen stance, my frail heart tip-toes into the climax of Swan Lake. I felt as if my body and my soul were two distinct entities; at this moment, I felt closer to the dark spirit than I ever was. I lay a black large space between how I act, and how I look, and perhaps I was the demon attempting to escape myself. I felt cold at once, and my hands were shaking. Sweat engulfed me, contrasting the goosebumps planted on my arms. I was conflicted because my emotions were heightened yet distant, and I was a bubble closing in on myself. As my hands shook, so did the shadowy creature; its body curved inwards and outwards. I was short of breath. Trapped inside a literal glass box. I was waiting for the water to begin trickling in and finally drown me. A spectacle for everyone to watch. My fear was the straightjacket containing me within one spot. I open my mouth to scream. Then I close it once again. Then I open it enough to let out a gargled muffle, “Who are you?” I question weakly. “I am just a figment of your imagination,” the dark creature replies calmly swirling around me rendering me dizzy. I used to be troubled with nightmares, and my brain never had trouble conjuring up images that made me an insomniac through the night, but my dreams never materialized. In pure confusion and fear, I begin to rub my eyes aggressively hoping that everything can disappear. I push against every mirror cracking my knuckles in red light. I tap against myself and scream out for Ana. Then slowly, I sink into the floor with my tears branding rivers across my body. That was the moment I had an epiphany. It came over me in the same nauseating way an insect crawls onto one’s body. It came over me the same way blood flows in our blood vessels firmly confined to its walls, but always on the brink of bursting. It came over me in the same way someone is suddenly overcome with a head rush, or a brain freeze: it was the center of attention, and it was a painful outburst. The moment I was overcome with it, I couldn’t help but feel insects crawling all over me. I couldn’t help but feel a strong head rush. I couldn’t help but feel the pounding of my heart meeting the pounding of my head and suffocating me. I felt insane, and what an irony it is to be sane of the fact that you are the furthest thing from that. I realized that I was not okay, that I was the furthest thing from okay. In fact, I was a madwoman, a threat to society or myself I couldn’t determine which one yet. I was incapable of trusting my mind. The result was a strange conclusion, because is it not my mind that conjured up this conclusion and simultaneously conjured up these images I felt were real?

Blacks and reds danced in my vision in between the narrow cracks of my closed eyes. My heart rate was at an all-time high as I felt the skin of my arms enveloping the skin of my thighs and swaying me into someplace else. Somewhere where my anxiety doesn’t exist. Somewhere where I can float, or be a rock the ocean laps up amongst seashells and grains of golden sand. Every minute ticks and tocks unfathomably further blurring my senses. I was a healthy combination of sick to my stomach and dizzy like my mind was rioting against itself, unable to distinguish what the darkness of my lids holds from the thousand reflections and loopy figures that actually lay in front of me. The thud of shoes frantically approaching locks me further into the haven between my knees. 

“Viv?” A sweet voice sounds into the atmosphere. “What happened?” Anna asks. I quickly wipe at my eyes attempting to grab onto every last shred of my composure in embarrassment. “An-“ I squeak out. She slips down onto her knees and engulfs me in the warmest hug, then she frantically rushes out, “I was looking everywhere for you! I could’ve sworn I heard you following me, but then I turned around and your silhouette was nowhere to be seen in these bloody mirrors. I’ve been circling this place for hours. Can you believe it? What happened to you, Viv? You okay? I’m so sorry. I just I-“ “Yes, yes, I’m- I don’t know,” I manage to stutter still a little shaky from my panic attack. She hugs me tighter then proceeds to stand up and pull me along with her. “C’mon, let’s leave, and you can tell me all about it on the way back home,” she says reassuringly. My wobbly feet stabilize with every step I take, then I manage to look up around me at all the places the shadows once were. “I’m confused,” I choke out. “What’s up?” She replies. “I just felt like I saw something. I- it’s nothing.” I reluctantly respond. She grabs my arm and pulls me out into the turquoise sky once again.

The car ride back home was filled with soft lullabies from the radio and Ana’s softer voice. It was safe to say that I was all calmed down yet extremely confused, so I crack through the tense atmosphere with a question. “Did you see those figures in between the mirrors?” I nervously ask. “Huh? What figures? Do you mean your thousand reflections? Don’t worry about that babe! They’ve made me dizzy too, and I know how you are with this stuff,” she answers calmly while switching stations. My heart rate picks up once again as if unpausing its little dance routine. Of course, she hasn’t seen them. How are you with this stuff? You have no idea, actually. I am actually insane. I let that last thought linger for a while tasting it in my mouth. I am actually insane. I should be used to saying that because I will be saying that every day from now on. “You okay, Viv?” Ana questions once again, “You seem a little in your head.” I respond abashedly with a lie, because when has a madwoman ever said the truth? In fact, I just might practice taking on this role fully. Perhaps I’ll be relieved off my duties. Mid-thought, I open my eyes and find my many selves laid out in front of me. I find the red strobe lights repeatedly reflecting off every surface around me, and I find those same shadowy figures in my vision again. Did I ever leave? Is this a nightmare? Am I even real? Maybe I died long ago and this is hell. Maybe I never existed and this is the before life. Maybe I’m a jellyfish in the ocean with an overactive imagination, or worst of all, maybe all of this is in my head, and I fully succumbed to the hallucinations I’m seeing. Maybe this happened years ago, and I’m just that crazy old lady who talks to herself and lives in the middle of nowhere. That being said, I close and open my eyes repeatedly until red becomes purple, then green, then yellow. Whoever is changing the light settings in this maze knows my 3 favorite colors. Wow. Maybe this isn’t so bad, after all, my mind must know me best.