Chapter 3: Contemplations
Sarah wept bitterly for what seemed like hours. She was nudged from her protectively curled up position by her Sheba, who meowed impatiently for food. Sarah unfolded herself from her couch and went to the kitchen to feed her pet. Her mind had gone numb. She could think of nothing. "There you are Sheba," she placed the bowl of tuna on the floor next to the cat, and wandered off to her bedroom. The only thought running through her brain was I must think of something, I can't just not think, I've got to think…
She made her way to the small bookshelf by one wall. Maybe if I get a book…maybe then I can think straight… She began digging through her bookshelf, searching for her favorite novel Les Miserables. "Where is it?" she asked aloud in her frustration. She finally caught sight of it and pulled it off the shelf. She looked up when she heard a soft thump. There on the floor lay a book. I guess I stuffed Les Miz in front of it on accident…she leaned forward to pick it up, but then gasped and leapt backwards, frightening Sheba, who had followed her into her bedroom.
Oh god, no way, no, no, no, not now! Her mind was reeling. It couldn't be that book. That book had led to several years of hell. All the psychiatrists, the loneliness, the cold looks from her step-mother…Oddly though, she could have sworn her step-mother had burned that book…
She backed away and crawled into her bed, her eyes never leaving the red leather-bound text on the floor. Sheba refused to step anywhere near the object, and she backed away, fur ruffled and eyes wide. As Sarah continued to eye the book warily, her mind drifted back…
She remembered her obsession with fairytales and legends and myths. She loved the stories of mythical and magical beings. But one story in particular had ensnared every last fraction of her imagination…The Labyrinth. She had acted out the part of the heroine many times, fighting her way through a deadly maze to rescue a child that had been wished into the hands of goblins and finally confronting the villain—the Goblin King. She had adored that story, making it her very life. She had gone to the park almost every day to practice the lines…I have fought my way here to take back the child you have stolen…ending in those six words…you have no power over me. One day, she had gone home to her task of baby-sitting her little half-brother. She had been very sad and lonely that day, she remembered. The baby had cried non-stop for quite some time, and Sarah, exasperated and frustrated, had wished the child to the goblins. The story had become such a part of her life that she had come to believe it. Then, she had discovered that her wish had been granted—the baby had been taken to the Goblin King, who gave her thirteen hours to solve a labyrinth and rescue her little brother. On her quest, she had made so many friends—something that she'd never had in her normal life—and had had great adventures involving fairies, fireys, bogs, giant hairy beasts, dwarves, and of course, a Goblin King. Although it had been a struggle, she had been grateful for her time in the labyrinth after she had rescued her sibling, defied the Goblin King, and returned home. Her time there had given her strength, courage, and friendship. These memories kept her going, along with occasional visits from her friends. However, one day, her stepmother had walked into Sarah's room as the girl was conversing with her dwarf friend Hoggle through the mirror over her vanity. Her stepmother had asked who she was speaking to, and Sarah felt that it was time to tell the truth—of her journey and her friends. Her stepmother listened with a calculating look on her face and had whirled out of the room.
Three days later, Sarah found herself in the office of a psychiatrist. She had spent three years in visits to the psychiatrist, with her stepmother often threatening to institutionalize the girl if she put one toe out of line. Dozens of visits to the psychiatrist had eventually convinced Sarah that she had simply let her overactive imagination get away with her. She had been depressed afterwards for some time, realizing that she'd never really had those adventures and made those friends. However, with her stepmother looming over her, looking for any sign of odd behavior, Sarah had forced herself to become more sociable, eventually making some real friends, and even going out once or twice in her last year at high school. She led a normal life from then on, going to college and majoring in dramatic arts, and getting several minor roles in various plays throughout the city. She had moved into an apartment of her own, and she'd been happy. She had friends amongst her fellow actors and actresses and she'd met Michael…
Sarah mentally recoiled at the thought of the man she had sworn she loved. Best not to the think of that now…she though, even as she gave way to another wave of heaving sobs. Why did my life have to become such an utter hell?