CHAPTER 15
Lalala! To my surprise, the birds fly in the next morning and pull down my covers. Hello, my little feathered friends! I’m feeling much stronger. And I’m starving—guess I must have slept right through dinner last night.
After breakfast, I feel well enough to join the others for morning meditation. Our sun salutations make me even stronger. I’m ready to face Shrink.
The climb up to Shrink’s office isn’t easy for me. I have to stop several times to catch my breath. When I finally get there, she’s waiting for me. That’s a first.
“Jane, it’s good to see you.” She smiles. “You’ve been through an ordeal. Would you like to talk about it?”
“Not really,” I say, collapsing onto the chaise. “I want to know when I’m getting out of here.”
“That’s up to you, Jane.” Shrink does a figure eight across the room, then hovers over me.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that you have to want to get better.”
“I do.” Surprisingly, I really mean it.
“Good. Then you must trust me. You must start opening up about your past so that I can understand the roots of your addiction and help you recover.”
My past. The words run cold through my veins.
“For tomorrow, I’d like you to write down as much as possible of what you remember about your childhood. Where you were born. Your earliest memories. Your relationship with your father as well as—”
“My father?” I cut her off. “I don’t know who he is.”
“Good. Include that detail. It’s important. And, of course, don’t forget about your relationship with your mother.”
My mother! My stomach knots up into a painful ball. Why can’t I just pretend she’s dead?
“You wrote on your assessment that your relationship with your mother was no one’s business. Well, it’s mine. I need to know about it.”
I take a deep breath. I’m not sure if I can go through with this.
“We’re running out of time for today, Jane. Do you have any questions?”
“Why didn’t The Huntsman kill me?” My eyes tear up. “I deserved to die.”
“No, Jane, you didn’t deserve to die. You deserved to live. That’s why he spared your life.” She pauses. “Did you know that he’s the one who committed you to Faraway?”
The Huntsman committed me?
The all-too-familiar chime sounds.
“Time’s up for today, Jane. I’ll see you here tomorrow.” She shoots out of the room, covering me in a cloud of fairy dust.
I linger on the chaise, unable to stop thinking about The Huntsman. Shrink practically made it sound like I should fall to my knees and thank him. Give me a break! The hatred I feel toward him cannot be put into words. There’s no one who’s more deliberately and underhandedly messed up my life. Not even Snow White. She couldn’t help being born beautiful.
After lunch at group, Grimm introduces two new members to me.
The first is a teenage boy in tan overalls named Pinocchio. I would actually call him beautiful if it wasn’t for his nose. It’s as long as a parsnip.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
The boy stares at me. His expressive brown eyes remind me of my puppy Bambi. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” he says.
He’s got to be kidding. Seriously, with a nose like that, he’s at least got to have girl problems. Suddenly, something happens that makes me almost fall off my chair. His nose grows three inches!
Grimm frowns. “Pinocchio, tell her the truth.”
“Okay, I’m a pathological liar. My father won’t stand for it anymore. So he sent me here.”
To my astonishment, the boy’s nose shrinks considerably.
“Good, Pinocchio,” says Grimm. “You told Jane the truth.”
Whoof! This place has gotten even more whacked.
The other new member is a frail, silver-haired man in a formal frock coat and bow tie, who must be in his seventies.
“I’m the Wizard. The Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz!” he proclaims.
“Yo, Oz. Show Jane some of your magic tricks!” mocks Hook.
The elderly man’s face and body twitch. He flushes with embarrassment.
Sasperilla bursts out laughing. “Maybe we should call him ‘The Wizard of Spaz.’”
God! Can she get any meaner?
“And, Sasperilla, we should call you ‘The Wicked Bitch of the West!’” says Hook.
“W-wicked Bitch! W-wicked Bitch!” chants Rump.
Go, Rump! His words shut the scrawn up. My hero.
To my surprise, Grimm moves the focus of the group on to me.
“Jane, would you like to share anything with us today?”
Is he out of his mind too? What makes him think I now have a reason to share my life with these whackos? “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Fine. Does anyone have any questions for Jane?”
Hook raises his missing hand. “So, babe, do you want to ‘hook up’ later?”
That’s it. I’ve had it. It’s time to set him straight. “First, my name’s not ‘babe’; it’s Jane. And second, I’d rather make it with a one-legged stinky cheese man.”
Stunned, Hook rocks back on his chair and topples over. He mutters a curse. Ha! Serves him right.
“Group’s over for today,” announces Grimm.
Hallelujah! I can’t take a minute more of these pathetic losers. I’m going to work hard with Shrink to get out of Loserville once and for all.
After dinner, I return to my room and work on Shrink’s writing assignment. I have writer’s block. I can’t get started. Or maybe it’s more because I don’t want to. Okay, I admit it. I’m afraid of writing down my past.
It’s a good thing there was a roll of parchment waiting for me. Each time, I begin with “I was born,” I can’t write another word and tear up the sheet. There’s a mountain of shreds next to my bed.
I need a new approach to my life story. Wait! That’s it! I’ll try writing my life like a story. I start over again and the words flow.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Jane who lived alone with her poor but beautiful mother, Nelle. Little Jane was always curious about her father, but whenever she would ask her mother where he was, she would reply, “Who knows!”
On her fifth birthday, Jane’s mother handed her a rusty, old tin cup. Every day from that day on, she had to walk miles to the village square where she would dance until her feet bled. Passersby dropped coins into her tin. When it was all filled up, she would limp back home. Her mother would take all the money and spend it on new clothes and makeup. She never bought Jane anything, not even a tiny toy.
The little girl’s mother had a large mirror that she kept in her bedroom. It was her favorite possession. She loved to look at herself in the shiny glass. Every night, she would dress up and admire her reflection. Then she would go out, leaving Jane all alone.
One night, Jane snuck into her mother’s room. She put on one of her mother’s pretty dresses and looked at herself in the mirror. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Who’s the fairest one of all?” she asked. To her delight, the mirror replied, “Your mother is fair, but her beauty is bland; You, My Queen, are the fairest in the land.”
Jane loved this game of make-believe. She secretly played it again and again. Then one evening, her mother came home early and surprised her. “How dare you dress up in my beautiful clothes and look into my mirror!” she screamed. She beat Jane so hard that the little girl could not dance for weeks.
When Jane grew up, she married a King and became a Queen. She never had to worry about her mother or money. Ever again.
THE END
I quickly reread my story. It’s perfect. I even got in the no-father detail. Shrink will be pleased. Exhausted, I crawl into bed, surprisingly looking forward to my session with Shrink in the morning. I’m one step closer to going home to my castle. And my magic mirror.