Day 30, day two of the second month.

Waking up this morning, I wait for the great doors to open with bated breath, hoping against hope that Robin could still be alive. After all, maybe he screamed because he tripped over. Maybe he found a way out.

How could I let him go out? Perhaps if I had warned him, he might have stayed. But my mind wanders to his panic, his refusal to stay 'trapped' in the glade, his desperation for freedom. Even if I had stopped him from leaving last night, would he consent to stay here for months, or years?

I wonder if I am unusual, to be content to stay within the walls, building my life in a cage. Is it a cage, to trap us? I feel it is a shield, keeping out the horrors. If I had not been so impatient with Robin, would he have been content to stay here?

I fear the daylight, and the solid answer it will bring. I have never ventured far beyond the doors, making sure to stay within the distance that I could reach, running, before they would have time to close.

Perhaps Robin was my only chance at company. Truly, he would have driven me mad, but who says I'm not already? I could have learnt patience, not let myself be irritated by his questions. I could have been a better guide, shown him my home, helped him to adjust.

I should not have assumed that someone else would adjust to a new life in the same way I did. He woke up, his memory gone, to find a new, confusing world, and the doors on a cage closing. How was he to know that the doors keep out the danger?

The ground begins to rumble as the doors start moving, the vibrations making my back twinge. I shouldn't have spent the night in such an uncomfortable position, but it's too late to undo my actions. Any of them.

The light is still dim this early in the morning, adding even more spooky effects to the thin line of maze that I can see through the slowly opening doors. My knife in hand, I slip through the stones as soon as I can fit, though the sound of grinding rocks from the still-moving doors sets me on edge.

The corridor beyond is dark and gloomy, and looks different in the dull morning light. A light fog, the closest thing to weather I've seen, hangs in the corners and droops across the ground. My tired mind idly wonders why I can find fog out here, when there's never been any in the glade.

I refocus my brain to the dangers of the unseen corners. What lurks unseen behind the twists and bends of the ivy coated walls? I have never been out this early, and the cool fog makes it difficult to see once I turn the corner. My breath seems heavy, and the damp air makes me almost sneeze.

I keep a careful account of the turns I make, for the last thing I want is to become lost in this endless grey maze. I trail my knife along the walls, allowing it to cut vines and drop them to the floor. I won't let myself lose the only safety I have. Whilst Robin may not have wanted to stay in the safety of the glade, I do. I have no desire to meet one of the monsters, and all I want to do is find Robin and return to the safety of my walls.

I wonder if he was my only chance. Will I ever know another person in this place? Or was he the only other to come. Or perhaps, am I the only one to stay beyond the one day, and have there been others before me, each leaving as soon as they arrive, forgotten without a trace? Am I the first to stay, to make a home in the glade instead of running into the creepy maze beyond? Am I the first to make a mark upon this place?

Left, left, right, I slowly droop into a half trance. I'm surrounded by the pale stone walls, over which thick ivy drapes. Above me, there is a narrow line of the blank sky, now more visible as the day progresses and the fog clears. Beneath my feet lies the cobbled stone floor, a few strands of ivy, and some random pile cloth in front of me.

Cloth? Oh no...

I kneel down, staring at the remains of the clothes Robin was wearing yesterday. His shirt and trousers, muted greens and browns just like mine, lie in tattered shreds.

I pick up the only sign that the young boy ever existed, and trudge back to the doors. Sorrow fills my bones as I realise that I am once again alone. It seems cruel, that I should have a glimpse of companionship only for it to be snatched from me, but even crueller to poor little Robin, who's new life only lasted for the one short afternoon, before dying at the hands (claws?) of some unknown monster.

I wonder if anyone remembers him elsewhere in the world. Does anyone know the chubby boy, determined to swear even without knowing the words? Did anyone know the child, scared to be locked into a cage, no matter how large it might be?

On one side of the glade, there's a window into a blank corridor, although I have no clue as to it's point. Beside it is a large slate of flat wall, and it is to there that I now walk. Taking the knife I've been carrying, I begin to carve Robin's name into the stone.

Now, even if I lose my memory again, or if I die and someone else comes here, Robin will never be forgotten. He will always be known, and I will never repeat my mistakes. I will never let another person vanish into the maze, never to return.

Seeing his name up there breaks something inside me, and with my vision blurred by tears, I strike a line through the middle of the letters. The stone comes off in fine shavings, so similar to the state of his clothes.

Now there can be no doubt as to his presence, or his fate. If I can achieve one thing, I want the world to acknowledge the passing of this innocent life, and never let it happen again.

Taking the remains of his clothes, I find a clearing deep within the forest and create a grave. The ribbons of fabric I bury in a shallow hole, headed by a wooden gravestone, on which I write his name, and beneath: May you never be forgotten.

Then I take a seat on the leaf litter and gently carve a bird. My skill is poor, but it is intended to be a statue of a little robin, perched carelessly on a safe stem.