Grace didn’t have to wait all that long for someone to come and answer the door. The man who greeted her was well dressed. She couldn’t say she was terribly surprised by that. Why shouldn’t he have nice clothes? If his house or rather mansion was any indication, he could afford the very best. Admittedly his attire was the first thing she noticed. But he didn’t panic right away. Her brain had time to process the face. Light blue eyes. Brown hair. Skin that looked like it hadn’t seen the sun in quite some time but not deathly or sickly pale. By the time the man’s sapphire orbs watered, her eyes were widened in the shock of recognition. She’d never met this man but...
“I know you!” she said stunned, entirely ignoring his comment. Somehow selling Girl Scout cookies didn’t seem important anymore. Not right now. How...How could the man in the mirror be real?! Was she going crazy?! She’d often wondered that. She didn’t think she was mentally unstable; but, she couldn’t deny there was something...if not wrong about her...Odd. There wasn’t really a pattern to what would set her off but just little things...The tiniest thing could send her into a downward spiral of depression. She didn’t wish to worry Mama or Papa. And she didn’t want to explain what was going on, not when she didn’t understand herself. And certainly not when she could possibly be interpreted as mad. What if they tried to force her on anti-depressants? Or they might shove her into Dr. Hoper’s office! And then she’d have all these cold, pitiful glances directed at her.
No! She didn’t want that! She’d seen those awful stares the doctors and nurses reserved just for the patients down in the psyche ward. Normally when she volunteered at the hospital, they kept her away from the basement level. It was not a bright or lively place. But sometimes they would send her down to bring food or just some decorations that could potentially cheer the patients. But...she really hated the way the staff looked at those unfortunate souls. Didn’t they understand they had a hard enough time being locked away, hidden from sight, trapped in some basement level, tucked away from their friends and family, all but forgotten by the world? Going down there always made Paige want to cry. Dejected, miserable. You could see it in their eyes. Most had given up hope on anything ever getting better. There was something...almost inhuman about the way the patients down there were treated. They weren’t physically abused at least not when Paige was around. But all the same, the staff looked at them like they were...She didn’t even know what!
She wasn’t stupid. She knew that talking about her...issues? Was that the right word? Talking about...wherever this irrational deep seeded sorrow came from wouldn’t land her in the psyche ward right away but...She would certainly get strange looks. People would never see her the same way again. Everyone would wonder what was wrong with her and worry. It...No...She just didn’t want that! And...how could she hope to explain that sometimes her name was enough to make her run to her room, lock the door, and burry her head in a pillow sobbing. This...This whole town...Storybrooke...all the people in it...It...Just sometimes it didn’t make sense. Everything seemed so hollow, so wrong. And Paige...Why did that name pain her so some days? Not all the time but...Paige was pretty sounding. And Paige loved to read fictional stories like Alice in Wonderland (especially the one chapter with the hatter) and all sorts of things. Reading and English were her favorite subjects! Paige sounded like the page from a book even if it was spelled differently. And yet often times the name sounded foreign on her tongue, alien like it didn’t belong to her at all. Some days...Just after a whole day of everyone calling her Paige, Paige, Paige, Paige...She couldn’t take it anymore! And so she barricaded herself in her room.
No one real would understand. She couldn’t talk to Mama or Papa or any of her friends. She couldn’t ask them if their hearts felt...empty, like they were missing something, like there was this giant hole, a void that couldn’t be completely filled by anything not even her stuffed animals or her tea parties or the lovely little books in her room or her parents or her friends or anything. She should be happy. She told herself that over and over again. She thought if she said it enough she’d believe it. But she didn’t. She could hear the strain in her voice every time she whispered it and see the despair in her eyes when she gazed critically at herself in the mirror. She should have a perfect life. She was a good student, had loving parents, kind friends, enjoyed her time at Girl Scouts and was well on her way to becoming a doctor with her hospital work and CPR certification but...Somehow it wasn’t enough. It was silly but...sometimes she felt like the world around her was scripted and people were less real and more reciting lines. She felt like...She’d done this before, a thousand times perhaps.
She wasn’t depressed now so this part was less clear; but, when she was in the midst of despondency....certain things wouldn’t add up. Like crickets. She’d wanted to catch one before not to hurt it or anything! But she’d been learning about wildlife and thought it would be neat to see one up close. She’d read some books and even though she was certain she was poking around at the right time in all her 11 years, she could never find one, never so much as hear one. Not until very, very recently. See? Silly! After Henry and Dr. Hopper had been rescued, she’d heard them. They must have been there all along and she just...missed them somehow.
And then there were her friends. She...She couldn’t tell them what she was really feeling, not without them staring at her like she’d grown a third head or something. Yes, that was...a bit sad; but, that’s not what troubled her during her bouts of grief. She’d try to think of how they met, how they became friends. And...It was just so hazy. She couldn’t focus. Was her memory really so poor? But again she was being silly. Likely she’d just known them for so long things sort of blurred together. But when gloom struck...Each and every odd little thing plagued her until all of a sudden all of Stroybrooke felt wrong and she was sure she couldn’t stay here another second. All she wanted to do was run away, go somewhere else, anywhere else. But of course that was irrational.
She couldn’t leave. Where would she go? Her only family was here. Her life was here. She was 11. She had no funds saved up. She was very thoroughly trapped. Although it shouldn’t feel that way! Storybrooke was a nice little town! And whose fault was it she couldn’t confide in her friends? Wasn’t it hers? But it didn’t matter. Feelings weren’t so easily rationalized away. She found...She couldn’t really connect with anyone. It was a very lonely feeling. Isolated even when she was surrounded by people. They couldn’t make the ache in her heart go away. Something must be really wrong with her. And because of it she could only have superficial relationships, talk about books and Girl Scouts and volunteer work, nothing important, nothing real, not all those odd questions and feelings that were quite possibly slowly driving her insane.
It got to the point where it just was too much bottled up, holed up inside. She needed some form of release. But people couldn’t be trusted. They’d never understand. So she talked to her stuffed animals and the man in the mirror. She'd had this very strange mirror for as long as she could remember. The mirror didn’t reflect her face but someone else’s. And...Although she’d never met the person...He seemed familiar. He was someone she could rely on, share her secrets with. He would never grow upset with her, never try and seek out Dr. Hopper, betraying her confidence due to concern. He couldn’t because he didn’t really exist, couldn’t hear a single word she so desperately uttered in a rush under her breath lest Mama or Papa hear. He was her dear friend and mentor. It was....probably silly but since she couldn’t talk to anyone real, she’d imagine the advise he would give her if only he could speak. She was certain he would support her! He just had...That face she supposed. But now here the face was out of the mirror! Was she losing it?!
No it was probably more simple than that. Maybe the mirror originally belonged to him or someone he loved or something and so it had his picture locked behind glass. Although it seemed less locked behind glass and more just...It was the mirror. For someone who loved to read...Her vocabulary was really failing her. But the mirror was just...really odd.
.She wanted to make sure anyways! She...Was probably paranoid; but, the mirror was a precious treasure. If she lost it, it wouldn’t just be like she’d misplaced a shoe or something. He was her confidant. He was her support network. She couldn’t bare the thought of being separated. It was horribly irrational she knew. She had her other stuffed animals. And she never brought any of them to school. But the mirror, the mirror never left her side. It wasn’t pocket size; but, she always carefully packed it away in her backpack. It was a handheld mirror, one that could easily fit inside her backpack even being on the longer end of the spectrum. She tenderly extracted her bluish silver gem and gazed into it. Like always it was not her own face that stared back at her but a man’s who was maybe...She was bad with aging. Her best bet would be late twenties, early thirties. Those eyes, that hair..He was even wearing a scarf like that very wealthy man! No, there was no mistaking it! That was definitely him!
She held the mirror up to the door in any case, turning it around so the image was pointed his way.
“This is you, isn’t it, the man in the mirror?” Her voice was more hesitant than she would have liked. But...This was crazy! She’d never thought this man in the mirror was anyone real! It was just a funny picture. But now...Here he was in a mansion she’d never even seen before. Was this a result of her imagination acting up or something? Things like that...normally didn’t happen. But...She couldn’t even guess how many hours she’d spent staring at the mirror, talking to the man like he was someone real, someone beloved and special. That was him! That was definitely him! She shouldn’t second guess herself like this! But it was...There was no denying that this was really unusual!
“Did the mirror used to be yours?” Why did it have his face?! She didn’t even know how she got the mirror. It was one of the many things she just couldn’t remember, another thing that just didn’t add up and made her question her sanity.
“Please, please look at it!” He had to confirm that she wasn’t crazy! The desperation was evident in her tone. She just needed him to say yes that was him that she wasn’t completely off her rocker. He had to see it too! He was the man in her mirror made flesh and blood! It wasn’t in her head! It was odd but this was real! He could prove that this one strange thing at least wasn’t a figment of her imagination!
She was so worked into a frenzy that it took her a moment to realize he’d called her something different. Not Paige, the name that so tormented her but...Grace? It...Why hadn’t she corrected him?! Hadn’t..hadn’t he confused her with someone else?! But the name was soothing and felt so right that she hadn’t thought to comment. Hers?...Yes...It just...made so much more sense than Paige!
This was madness! Paige! Paige had always been her name! But...
“Grace, is that who I am?” she said softly. The words tumbled off her tongue without a thought. What was she saying?! She knew who she was! She might hate the name for some irrational reason but she was a Paige not a Grace!
Tears brimmed in her eyes. Why...Why did all of this hurt so much?! She couldn’t understand it!
