How Does a Daffodil Survive in Winter?

xxii | The Eggnog Hangover and a Walk Down a Mirror Maze

When I was around six years of age, the town decided to have a large fair in celebration of the opening of the mall. It was this huge thing that everyone attended. I went to it with my mother and aunt. Everything seemed so exciting but as I actually got closer to it, I realised that it wasn't.

I remember the numerous masses of people waiting for the popcorn stand because apparently it had real butter, not the kind of artificial stuff they soak it in at the movies. It didn't even taste that good but people are just gullible and will buy anything that says: no artificial [blank]. Honestly, movie theatre popcorn tastes better even with its fake butter. The guy who was making it smelled like cheap shaving foam and cigarettes and that smell would get infused with the popcorn. But no one else seemed to mind it because the popcorn had real butter.

There was also this ferris wheel, typical fair stuff, with multi-coloured lights covering it. The ride was packed head to toe with not only lights but couples, the kind with the matching mugs and towels. They were all just horrible, always holding hands as they sat in their seats and talking with their heads bowed and lips inches from each other. The girl would always be giggling like some maniac at anything the guy says. And the cheesiest part of the whole ride would be when they reach the top. Every single time, like all the couples had this meeting beforehand, the guy would slowly reach out and cup the girl's cheek then say something cheesy enough to kill a lactose intolerant person. She would be smiling, flashing her pearly whites, and gushing at her boyfriend. Predictably, he would then kiss her. And next thing you know they're eating each other's faces out while the next couple arrives at the top and the whole thing starts again. I know it's suppose to be romantic but it's just so fucking boring and disgusting to watch as a bystander, especially when your were barely 4 feet tall and the only thing that you liked was pink and blue cotton candy. Seeing those couples on the ferris wheel made me dead set on dumping any guy's sorry ass if he ever tries to do that.

I could go on forever about popcorn with real butter and ferris wheels but the main thing that stuck in my mind after all those years was the mirror maze. It was inside this dark room with neon lights and the entire thing was covered in full length mirrors. That's why the maze was so hard, because it seemed infinite and you never know what's real and what was a reflection. It was the last thing I did at that fair and as to why, I'll get to that later. I had gone into the maze by myself and had spent the first five minutes running around happily with cotton candy in my hand. It was almost towards the end of the fair, even the parade of ferris wheel couples was coming to an end. I was all alone in the maze. At first, it was amusing to see myself being reflected in the mirrors all around me. I completely ignored the fact I was trying to escape the maze and just walked around instead, admiring the neon lights and the structure of the mirrors. I kept running around in circles, unaware of the passing time. The cotton candy had made its way from the stick it was on to being stuck in my mass of unruly hair. I would smile at every mirror, revealing the cotton candy stuck between my teeth. It must've been quite awhile I had been frolicking around in the maze but I didn't care.

That was until the neon lights went out. Suddenly, I no longer felt amused by the mirrors and began running around in fear. I cried as most small children do when they were afraid and I distinctly remember calling out to my mother. In my frantic running, I crashed into a mirror. Luckily it didn't break on impact but it sent me flying down the path I ran down.

According to my aunt, I was still sitting there in the same spot and bawling my eyes out when they found me. As it turns out, the lights turned off because the fair had come to an end and the workers weren't aware of the fact I was still in there. Neither was my mother, apparently, even though she was the one who put me in there.

That is why the mirror maze was the last thing I did at the fair that day and conveniently it was the last time I ever went into a mirror maze ever again. Because after what had happened, I developed a phobia of mirror mazes.