Queen of The Maze

Getting Comfortable

After a crappy nights sleep on the hard ground, hearing these weird and creepy noises echoing from around the glade (That's what i've decided to name this hellhole), and definitely not crying myself to sleep, I rose from my slumber. The first night had been rough, but if I was going to survive on my own here, I had to stay strong. As I woke up, I wish I hadn't, because I was greeted to birds screeching and ants crawling all over me. That certainly woke me up if I wasn't already. I started my day by running the perimeter of the glade, checking everything out. There was this cool bare tree with platforms and ladders, giving me an indication that this land was not completely untouched. I decided to call it the lookout. The box went back down to wherever it came from last night, but luckily me and my smart brain emptied it out earlier in the evening. I had opened all the crates to find seeds and weapons, shoes and hats, blankets and more construction tools. Today I decided to put some of them to good use. I walked over to the crates and took the things I wanted, and then walked over to a spot I scouted earlier. It was near the back of the glade, in the middle, and had a few sturdy trees and the ground was flat. I picked up some wood that came up in the box with me and pinned it perfectly between two trees. "I have absolutely no idea on how to do this crap" I said aloud. I really hope I don't become that crazy that I start talking to myself. No matter how long i'm in here alone, I will make it work. I will show whoever started this how good I am.

A couple of hours later I was done. I had constructed a shelter with a bed, a campfire, a little 'wash bay' down near the stream, and even an outhouse. I was proud. So proud in fact, that I allowed myself to have a nap. On my new bed. With a blanket from the box. But of course, when you are alone in a field surrounded by walls, the euphoria doesn't last. Once I got up again, it was time to continue working. I went back to the crates and got out all the seed packets. I walked over to the garden boxes and planted myself some carrot, potato, tomato, cucumber, onion, garlic and ginger. It was a very therapeutic process, and I just hoped that I had planted them right. I even built a trellis so any other plants I decided to grow would have what they need. What also came up with me were bowls. And wooden cutlery. So I used one of the bowls to drip some water over the seeds. Satisfied with my work, I stood up from the plants. As I was walking back to my little shelter, something fell out of my pocket. 

I didn't realise I even had pockets. I looked down, and I saw myself. And that's not even metaphorical. I literally saw myself. The thing that fell out of my pocket was a mirror. I was amazed how it didn't break, but what I was more amazed at was how gorgeous I was. I'm kiddiiiiing. But I couldn't remember what I looked like. I knew I was slender, from an earlier inspection, and I knew that my hair was really black, but that was it. I picked the mirror up off the ground and looked closely. There were dots of dried blood sprinkled around the mirror, which were corresponding to the blood on my pants, but I had so many questions similar to that it made my head explode. So I pushed them away, and I pushed the anxious feeling down. I turned my focus to my reflection. I looked around 16 years old, a mature young woman. Dark brown freckles spotted over my tanned face, a bloody scar extending over my right eye. Wonder where that came from? I touched it and didn't feel any pain, so I rubbed the dried blood away. I looked totally badass, and I knew that that scar was going to be with me for the rest of my life, however long that was. My hair was in a braid, as I thought it was when I felt it before, and it reached roughly to my shoulders. My eyes looked very green, but not nearly as green as the trees around me. My stomach rumbled, interrupting my staring, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in god knows when. I knew what I had to do, but I didn't really want to do it.

I did it. Took the wooden bow from the 'weapons' crate and went into the forest-y part of the glade. Shot the unsuspecting deer from behind a tree. Watched as the life died out of its eyes. Skinned and chopped it up into portions, saving it for other days. But as I sat next to the fire, sitting on my makeshift chair, roasting one of the deer legs on my makeshift spit, I could only think about how delicious it would be. I can't remember having tried venison at any stage, but then again, I couldn't remember anything about my life. I could remember maths and english and history and how to run and every life skill I will ever need, but for the life of me I couldn't remember anything about me. Couldn't remember my first kiss. Couldn't remember my favourite song. Not even how well I did in school. Nothing. it was like my personal life was faded, like someone had taken glasses off of me when I was born. But right now was not the time to think about that. It will probably never be the time to think about that. It was time to think about survival. I pulled the deer off the spit and into one of the bowls. It was pretty fucking good. The murder was worth it. And besides, I needed to fuel up for tomorrow, where I was going to do some investigating about the walls surrounding my new 'home'. I walked over to the wall I marked yesterday, running my fingers over the cold concrete in acknowledgement. For living another day.

Nyla.