CHAPTER 01 - HARRIET

The first day all I did was cry. I Cried out of fear, cried out of frustration, cried out of sadness, cried out of confusion, and cried for the fact that I couldn't stop crying. My mind was completely blank aside from memories of scraping metal and unheard screams.

I didn't even step out of the box that had brought me here.

The second day I heard a name. Someone calling a name. Harriet. Were they calling to me? Is that who I was? It was only for stability in a situation where I knew absolutely nothing that I chose to go by it. I needed a solid base to stand on, after all.

I was Harriet. I was in a box. Around me was approximately three large bags of assorted fruits and vegetables, several toolboxes, a sack of what I could only assume was art supplies, and a small knife.

I sat for a few more moments. The sun blared down on me from overhead. Even though I had no memories of a childhood or education, I knew what everything was. The sun, grass, wind, all the supplies that came with me; I knew what they all were. My history was a blank space, but my intelligence was not.

I shook out rigid muscles and stood up amongst the scattered items. Grabbing the stiff metal frame of the box, I lifted myself out of the box and onto soft grass.

I was in some sort of meadow. Grass spilled out around me on all sides. To my right was a thick patch of trees, and to my left was a large pond—or a small lake? Besides those two distinguishable features, the meadow was completely empty.

And I was surrounded on all sides. Large, concrete walls reached high over my head. I strained my eyes and could barely see their end. They seemed to reach the sun above me.

I dragged all the supplies from the box onto the ground besides me. Once the last item had been removed, the hatch doors began to close. I thought this was my chance to escape, but to my dismay the doors jutted back open whenever I jumped back into the box. Once the doors completely closed, I heard the box screech away.

The second day went by slowly. I left the supplies by the hatch and decided to explore my surroundings. I had been given basic food and tools for survival; I had to assume I would be here for a while.

The small forest was thick and provided some welcome shade. There were the basic insects and bugs, along with a few squirrels and birds. The small lake had a few fish, and the water was oddly clean and clear. Both the forest and the lake gave me a shuddering feeling of artificialness that made me wary.

I sat down in the shade of the trees. I still had no idea why I was here, or what I was supposed to do. I held back the frustration with a stubborn grip.

My head snapped up at the sound of birds fluttering past me. A loud, bellowing screech sounded from the walls around me. It was a different sound from the box, which I was all too familiar with, and it was much, much louder.

I stood up as a portion of the giant wall besides me began to split open. I hid behind the trees; though my immediate thought was escape, something terrifying could just as easily enter the meadow.

After waiting a few minutes, I emerged from the trees and approached the large gap in the wall. The only item I had grabbed from the supplies was the knife, and I kept it tightly in my grip as I walked closer.

I peered into the gap and was greeted by even more walls. But, these walls were covered in vines and ivy, and they weren't simply lining a large room. A couple paces inside, and I realized the twist and turns were forming the walls into a maze.

But I was one girl in a new environment with only myself to hear my screams. Today was not the day to get lost in a giant maze. I couldn't even fathom how large this maze must be to have such high walls. I exited back into the meadow through the gap and headed back to the hatch that hid the box beneath it.

I sifted through my supplies.

Food, tools, and no directions whatsoever. Whoever sent me here really wanted me to start out with the bare necessities.

"Since there's no exit…" I muttered to myself, grabbing an axe from the pile of tools.

I glanced back over at the gap in the wall. There could be an exit.

"Well, not today at least."

A week went by. I had a cozy little hammock, and I had started planting some of the seeds that had come up in the box with me. Everything was okay.

The maze was unknown and could not be trusted.

Two weeks went by. I had experienced my first weather change. It could rain in this place, among other things. I learned that thunder terrified me. The sound seemed to echo even louder against the tall concrete walls of my confinement. There was no one around to go to for comfort. I remembered how alone I was, and I cried.

My eyes blinked at the gap in the wall through messy tears.

Three weeks went by. I realized crying was useless, and that no one was coming to help me. The gap in the walls beckoned invitingly, but I was too much of a coward to wander inside. I knew they closed every night and opened up every morning. I knew scraping metal and mechanical shrieks sounded from inside them when they were closed. I knew nothing ever came from them during the day, but I knew better than to trap myself in the maze during the night.

Four weeks in, and I knew how the Meadow worked. Everything had to be maintained in an orderly balance. I couldn't kill too many fish or they wouldn't reproduce. The same went with the birds and the other small creatures in the forest. I knew the water never got too dirty or depleted. I knew the vines from the maze made great ropes, and I knew it was impossible to climb to the top of the walls.

I knew that this was my life now, and I knew that I wasn't in control of it. I knew, somehow I just knew, that every move I made was being monitored. I was a lab rat in a giant experiment.

And part of that experiment was getting me into that maze, but the hypothetical cheese at the end of that road wasn't a good enough reason to get me into that trap.

I did contemplate ending my life. There was literally nothing to live for in this world. I had no friends, no family, no memories to even tell me if I had them in the past, and there was nothing in the Meadow that I could use as a reason to live.

But the fear of death itself kept me alive. I ignored that option as best as I could.

I carved another nick into one of the trees my hammock was tied to.

It had been thirty days since I had been sent into this place. I had been alone for an entire month, and the solitude was starting to knead at my sanity. This past week I had fought an attack of hysteria and had the scrapes and bruises to prove it. One of the many trees surrounding me was now barren of branches and outer bark. The skin on my forehead was bloodied and raw. My nails were chipped and my fingers were scabbed.

But reality came back to me, and I woke up to another lonely day.

I had neglected my plants for a week, and I needed to make up for it. I grabbed a shovel and a bucket from the small supply shack I had hastily nailed together and headed for the small garden I had been cultivating.

The damage was obvious, but not irreparable. I got to work right away.

The sun beat down on me hard today, and the plants were hydrated with both my sweat and fresh water from the lake. I wiped my brow with a muddy hand and sighed.

Familiar sounds of scraping metal caught my attention. I nearly snapped my neck turning my head in the direction of the metal box that had brought me to my solitary confinement. I dropped the shovel and grabbed the knife at my side—I had no idea what to expect.

It was a short distance from the garden to the box. I quickly covered it and stood at the edge of the metal borders.

The hatch containing the box shook with its impending arrival. It screeched with a halt, and the doors of the hatched pulled back to reveal the box beneath. With only a bit of hesitation, I peered inside.

Inside was a flurry of feathers, shrieks, and obscene smells.

I could barely distinguish the various animals before my body was forced harshly into the ground. I screamed, grip folding tightly around my knife.

"WHO ARE YOU?" commanded my assaulter.

"I…I'm-" I stuttered. My words were caught. My lips had almost forgotten how to speak. I had thought I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. I peeled my eyelids back, forcing down the fear as I was used to.

Highlighted by the sun shining down behind her, I almost thought I was dreaming. She looked like an angel; a stinky, sweaty, dirty angel. Tan skin and dark hazelnut eyes pulsed in fury. I couldn't sense fear in her at all; just anger. Her short wavy curls moved with her rage.

"DID YOU BRING ME HERE?" she asked, keeping me pinned down with a sturdy arm. She had the pointed end of a shovel aimed at my face.

I stared back at her with solidarity, now in control of my own emotions and voice.

"No. I'm the same as you."My voice was cracked and harsh from disuse. I raised my arms and released the knife in my grip. "My name is Harriet. I'm not going to hurt you."

Her eyes darted back and forth from my face to the knife besides me several times before she seemed to understand the statement. After a few more moments of thought, she tossed the broken shovel aside.

With a heaving sigh she removed herself from my chest and fell to the ground, basking besides me in the sunlight.

"Sorry about that," she said, becoming overwhelmingly trusting all too fast and closing her eyes, "Being trapped in a metal box full of farm animals can do things to a girl."

I sat up and stared at her now calm expression. She even had a smile on her face! The fear that took me almost an entire month to control had fled so easily from this girl's mind.

"Do you remember who you are?" I asked.

"Not really," she replied. "Only my name I think."

She opened her eyes again and outstretched a hand to me with a smile. "I'm Joan."