The last thing she remembered was having lunch with her best friend, but even the memory of that and  the restaurant seemed like a distant memory. She felt a harsh wind on her skin, like she had been dumped in the middle of the desert; her breath came thick and ragged, and she hadn't even opened her eyes yet. She couldn't bring herself to.

Slowly she opened her eyes, the area around  her was deserted, bare and vacant; and something like a stormy gray sky hung above her. The hot wind whipped her face, slapping her nondescript brown hair back into her eyes. She squinted her eyes, which were equally as nondescript as her hair-a muddy greenish gold.

She only had one thought:

Wherever she was she had to get out of here; wherever "here" was. Slowly, the young woman named Tara Carter got to her feet.

 

Someone had once said a journey begins with a single step. For some reason this quote kept running through Tara's mind as she journeyed  forward. Each path she took seem ed to loop back on itself, the passageways narrow and cramped. Soon she couldn't tell where she had started, maybe  it would've been better if she had just stayed put.

Tara kept moving, but it seemed to do her little good, each path was as similar as the next and the only way she could keep track of her progress was the gradual darkening of what she assumed was the sky that overlooked the labyrinth. Eventually, the sky had gone from a light gray to a murky black, at which time she assumed it was close to nightfall. The shadows within the maze lengthened making the paths even harder to navigate, but she kept moving forward, she had to.

 

Finally, Tara stopped to rest, sinking down along one of the solitary walls. She lay her head back against the stone and closed her eyes, maybe if she sat here long enough she would find herself back at the table talking and laughing with her friend, but then again, the last thing she remembered  Dylan hadn't been laughing; she could still see the seriousness in his deep blue eyes.

 

Suddenly her eyes flew open. At first, Tara wasn't sure what had snapped her out of her reverie, but then she heard it again, a slow, deep growl. Something was out there, lurking in the shadows.

She wasn't sure whether she should move forward, backward or stay where she was. Something unknown, but strangely tangible had  her frozen in place and she could only watch in horror as the noises; a series of growls and snarls grew louder from within the depths of the maze.

She crept forward, slowly, carefully afraid any further noise would betray her movements. She was at the end of another passageway when she heard it again, but it was louder this time, much louder.

Suddenly something large and furry leapt from the shadows. In the dim light she could tell it was some shade of bluish gray. It was the size of a bear with large glowing yellow eyes and a snarling, slobbering mouth filled with sharp teeth. As the creature advanced on her (and she was quickly running out of places to go) another creature appeared, this one different from  the first, but just as menacing.

The creature was large and sleek shades of red and black matted fur. It looked to be the size of some sort of big cat, it crept stealthily; snarling and terrifying.

Tara felt her back hit a wall, a wall she had barely been aware of until a few seconds ago. She felt everything close in around her until she could only hear her own breathing and the thudding of her heart in her ears. A third creature burst from the shadows, similar to the second creature, as ferocious as the first, with the same glowing yellow eyes and the same slinking build. It was about the size of a wolf but seemed twice as agitated as the other creatures-if that were possible. This smaller creature began to circle her still growling; Tara was sure it was about to sink its fangs into her when another figure appeared out of nowhere.

This figure instead of walking on all fours seemed to be more humanoid, a slender figure with wild hair, which seemed to be attempting to beat the creatures back with some sort of spear. Tara couldn't bring herself to watch, she stayed huddled against the wall until the figure had banished the creatures from the pathways.

Tara only looked up and she felt a gentle hand on her back. She found herself looking into the light blue eyes of the young man who had apparently saved her. Up close, she saw he was wearing a dirty tunic and had nearly shoulder length red hair (which was just as matted and dirty), light eyes and a kind face. His expression was strangely sympathetic.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, but he didn't seem angry, simply surprised and slightly on edge. "It's dangerous out here, particularly right now."

Finally Tara spoke her voice sounding slightly raspy.

"And where exactly is here?" She asked.

The young man reached down his hand which Tara found herself instinctively grabbing.

"Come on," he said, "I'll explain on the way."

2: Chapter 2

Tara sprinted as she hurried to keep up with the young man's long strides, as he ran dear like through the passageways.

"Who are you and where exactly am I?" She panted. She already had a stitch in her side and she had only gone a few feet; it was like trying to keep up with an Olympic athlete.

"Pax." He said shortly as he continued navigating the twists and turns of the maze. Within a few short minutes they arrived in a secluded hollow that seemed free of anything dangerous.

"In here." Pax said in the same clipped tone as he ushered her inside.

The small hovel appeared to be Pax's home. There was a small kitchen and a bed in one corner and a few cushy chairs in another. It reminded her of what she imagined a hobbit hole must look like minus the classic English charm. Tara sank down into one of the chairs, finally catching her breath. Her mind was buzzing with questions, each fighting to get out of her mouth first, but she settled on the most pressing one.

"What were those things you saved me from?" She asked.

Pax's handsome face screwed up in disgust.

"Nasty things." He said in a brusque voice. "Around here we call them Depression, Anxiety and Panic."

"Why were they interested in me?" Tara asked, now confused.

"They feed on anything that comes through here, mostly any and all human energies."

"Where exactly is here?" Tara asked next.

"Me, the therapist and scientists call it the Brain, or more commonly, the Maze."

"Why don't they affect you?" Tara asked, looking up at Pax with some sort of wonder.

A ghost of a smile flitted across Pax's face.

"Well, you can say I'm immune in a way. I have skills most people don't."

"How do I get out?" Tara asked.

Pax grinned this time, the first sign of life Tara had ever seen appearing on his face.

"That's the thing, isn't it," he asked rhetorically, "how do you get out? It's a closely guarded secret, but in your case I think I can help. One has to find their way to the center of the maze and me, the therapist and scientists will help get you out. That's about all I can tell you right now."

"So you'll help me?" Tara asked.

Pax gave a lazy shrug.

"Sure. You're not the first person to get lost in here. By the way, I never got your name; I saved your life and I never asked."

Tara grinned.

"Well I should say so, you were kind of busy." She held out her hand, "Tara, Tara Carter."

"Pleasure to meet you Tara Carter. As I said, I'm Pax and I'll try to help you as much as I can."

"So when can we go?" Tara asked.

"No one travels through here at night, not even me and the other people here--although I patrol occasionally. I say we get some sleep and start first thing in the morning."

Grudgingly, Tara agreed and made herself as comfortable as possible with a few blankets in one of the oversized chairs. The light from the dying fire was strangely comforting and for the first time since waking up in the Maze she felt more relaxed, and finally (after what seemed like an eternity) she slept.

3: Chapter 3

Morning seemed to come too soon for Tara, but you could barely tell because of the dim light which seemed to fill the small room, although it fluctuated now and then.

When she awoke, the first thing that greeted her was the smell of bacon and eggs and she opened her eyes to see Pax was awake and cooking on a small stove in the far corner.

"Morning." He said pleasantly.

"Morning." Tara replied groggily.

"I made you breakfast." Pax continued, gesturing to the second plate he had prepared.

Tara got up suddenly aware of how grungy she felt, having slept in her clothes from the day before.

"I know this is going to sound weird, but do you have some clothes I can borrow? I kind of feel gross right now."

Pax returned a few minutes later with a loosefitting shirt, a belt and an extremely baggy pair of pants.

"I hope these will do," he chuckled," they may be a bit big."

Tara nodded and shrugged, she couldn't afford to be picky right now.

"Thanks." She muttered, taking the clothes, "Now if you don't mind… and keep my breakfast warm."

Pax smiled graciously.

"No problem." He retreated quietly.

 

Constructing a makeshift privacy screen out of a few blankets Tara dressed, securing the loosefitting clothing with the belt Pax had given her. She washed up the best she could in a small basin nearby, and afterwards, ate her breakfast suddenly realizing how hungry she was.

"So what do we do now?" She asked through a mouthful of bacon and eggs.

"We have to pack." Pax said shortly, We're going to be gone for a couple of weeks." Tara nodded slowly and finished eating while Pax bustled around the small room, gathering supplies as he went.

Sometime later, he was packed: two rolls that looked like sleeping bags, several blankets, and jugs of water. In another knapsack, it looked like he had packed several days worth of food.

"We'll be able to resupply a little bit once we reach the Stream of Consciousness." Pax said, but that is at least a week's journey from here."

Tara looked up.

"Stream of Consciousness? Really?"

Pax smiled, seemingly following her train of thought.

"Yes, whimsical, isn't it?"

A short time later, they were packed and ready to leave. In her knapsack Tara packed her old clothes and a few more essentials. She had kept on her underclothes since she didn't have clean ones, it would have to do for now.

Mercifully, their first few hours of travel within the maze were uneventful, and for the first time Tara looked around. It wasn't particularly bright but it was lighter than it had been the night before. Pax walked in front of her carrying his spear with a knapsack over his shoulder and this time he wasn't running. For the first time since waking up in the maze Tara felt relatively safe, confident Pax would protect her.

They stopped for lunch a few hours later eating bread, cheese and apples. Pax was just cleaning up their little picnic when it happened. Tara felt the prickly feeling she had felt the night before and moving closer to Pax she looked around. She heard the sound before she even saw anything, there, slinking out of the shadows was the creature she now recognized as Anxiety and on its heels was Panic-quieter, but just as dangerous.

"I thought you said they didn't come out during the day." She whispered to Pax through numbing lips.

"I didn't say it made them go away either." Pax muttered back gripping his spear in the opposite hand. His pose now defensive.

Anxiety growled, creeping closer.

Panic snarled quietly, it's yellow eyes fixed on Tara.

Tara felt paralyzed her heart beating loudly in her ears. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, she had even forgotten Pax was there standing beside her, she felt like she was falling down a long, never ending tunnel.

Just as quickly as the feelings had risen they seem to have subsided as Anxiety and Panic retreated back into the depths of the maze.

"What-what happened?" Tara whispered when she could speak again.

"You had a panic attack." Pax said matter-of-factly. "That's how they control you. I may not be able to help you with that directly, but the therapist can, he knows a few tricks I don't. Come on."

Gently, Pax took her hand and they continued to walk slowly and carefully through the maze. Pax's hand was smooth and cool and Tara found the sensation strangely calming like all her anxieties had been muted somehow although they were still there, lurking in the back of her mind.

It was only then she realized Pax was still speaking to her, sounding like he had said this information many times before.

"Depression only makes Anxiety and Panic worse; eggs them on in a way, you could say, gets them all riled up. They're bad at the worst of times."

He chuckled ruefully.

"The sooner we get to the Stream of Consciousness the sooner we can rest, and we still have a long way to go before we stop for the night."

He squeezed her hand.

"Come on," Pax said again, "this way, I know a shortcut; somewhere where they can't follow us."

4: Chapter 4

Pax hurried along in that business like fashion Tara now associated with him. Holding her hand, he navigated the twists and turns of the labyrinth effortlessly, which made Tara feel much more secure than she had the night before.

"Where are we going?" She finally asked.

"Just around here," Pax answered, "around the next corner."

They were just rounding the corner when another figure darted out of the shadows, and by the time Tara saw it again it was huddled in the middle of the path, but even then it was hard to tell if it was humanoid or not.

The creature, gave a shrill shriek and there was a swirl of purplish silver hair, and upon closer inspection, Tara saw it was a gnarled but seemingly sturdy old woman.

"Quiet!" Pax hissed, "Do you want the creatures to come running?"

The old woman emitted a sound that sounded more like a croak. From between her locks of grimy hair Tara saw glossy eyes and a thin mouth.

"Pfff…" The old woman scoffed, "they don't scare me! They're pussycats."

"I'm not saying they scare me either," Pax replied crossly, "but for the sake of my companion I'd rather not."

For the first time the woman seemed to notice Tara.

"Humans," she muttered, "always getting lost in here… I'll never understand it." Carefully, she straightened and drew herself up to her full height, she was short, squat and square, but seemed less frail than Tara originally thought.

"Well come on, I'd rather not give them fodder to chew on." She hurried away with Pax and Tara following after her.

 

She led them to a hollow similar to Pax's home although it was much tidier than his; neat and clean with a similar warm glow.

Without being asked, the woman was already preparing three cups of tea.

"So what brings you out this way, Paxil?" She asked.

"I would think," Pax sounded irritable, "that would be obvious."

The old woman's gaze returned to Tara.

"Oh yes, helping this little lamb find its way home." She bustled around for a few more minutes before finally handing out two cups of tea, sitting down and taking one herself.

Tara cautiously sipped her tea, it made her feel warm all the way down to her toes but somehow it went deeper than that and she calmed almost instantly, her encounter with Panic and Anxiety seeming to be a distant memory. Finally, she found her voice.

"Excuse me, but, who are you?"

The old woman looked up giving her a shrewd expression before replying.

"Name's Xanax." She replied gruffly. "Been doing some work for the Doctor here and there, and it's time I get back."

Xanax turned her attention to Pax.

"So, that's about where you're headed, am I right?"

Pax nodded before replying.

"Actually, we're headed for the Stream of Consciousness… You know how long it takes to get to the Center."

"Yes," Xanax replied, "but," she held up a knowing finger, "I know a few shortcuts."

"You know I can't take a human through there, the Doctor, therapist and scientists won't allow it."

By now Tara was used to them talking like she wasn't there, but at this point she had no room to argue; this was their territory not hers, at the moment she was happy just to have people helping her.

"Mind if I come along?" Xanax asked, "I have to head back that way anyway. I don't mind stopping by the good old Stream of Consciousness to make a pitstop."

Pax sighed.

"I don't see why not. You may have some insight I haven't thought of yet."

 

They gave Xanax a few moments to collect supplies and then the three of them set off. As they walked along Pax glanced at the ever cloudy sky.

"It will be dark soon," he commented, "we might want to start looking for a place to spend the night."

Tara was about to ask where they could spend the night where they were safe from the creatures, but it seemed Pax and Xanax had already thought of this and by the time the shadows lengthened within the maze they had stopped at another dead-end, but this one had several hollows (big enough for a person to fit comfortably inside) in the wall.

"Here we are." Xanax said with satisfaction as she said her knapsack down. "Not many of these in here, but it's nice when we find them."

Without speaking the three of them set out preparing for the night. Pax lay down next to Tara in an adjoining hollow, just knowing he was nearby made her feel better. Xanax settled down somewhere below them, grunting and muttering several times before she was quiet. Finally Tara settled down, it wouldn't have been the first place she would have elected to sleep, but it seemed it was the only option available to her. It was kind of like camping, she thought-not that she was one for such things.

Finally the only noise that she could hear were the night sounds of the maze and the wheezing nasal snores of Xanax. Any other time the sound would've made her laugh, but at the moment she didn't feel much like laughing. Finally, she managed to get comfortable and pulling the blanket up to her ears she closed her eyes.

It seemed, however, her mind had other ideas and a parade thoughts, in various degrees of grimness, circled through her mind making her feel worse than she had the day before. So she lay awake listening to the night.

5: Chapter 5

Tara sat bolt upright. Then she promptly cracked her head against the low ceiling in the small space in which she found herself. Through her haze of panic she couldn't remember where she was or why she was there. She didn't scream, but her commotion was enough to wake Pax and Xanax, who were already climbing out of their own cubbyholes.

"Tara, what is it?" Pax asked.

Xanax took her hands, her voice soft and gentle looking critically into Tara's eyes.

"What's the matter dear?"

Tara shook her head, she couldn't say what the matter was, only that she was suddenly afraid of everything (or so it seemed).

Over her head, she saw Pax and Xanax give each other a look, a look only they appeared to understand.

"I'll make some tea." Xanax said quietly and she climbed back down to her own sleeping quarters, surprisingly nimble for a woman of her age.

"It's alright," Pax said gently. "it will go away, I promise."

"Are they out there?" Tara whispered.

Pax looked where her gaze had drifted out the hole of the hideaway. He didn't have to ask who "they" were.

"I'm sure they are, this is prime time for them, when people are the most vulnerable."

In no time at all, Xanax had returned with three cups of tea, how she had climbed from one cubbyhole to another without spilling a drop Tara would never know.

"Here we are, nice and hot." She distributed the cups in a businesslike fashion before turning back to Tara. "Drink that." She instructed firmly, "You'll feel better, I promise."

Numbly, Tara did as she was told. She still felt like she was somewhere outside her body like her rational mind had vacated her body altogether. As the minutes passed she slowly came back to herself and her thoughts reorganized themselves.

"Better?" Pax asked.

Slowly, Tara nodded.

As she took the cups from everyone, Xanax asked softly:

"What triggered the attack, dear?"

Tara shook her head again.

"I don't know." She whispered. "This place… It's strange… It's creepy… Like I'm waiting for something to jump out at me."

"Most of the time those things are only shadows," Pax said wisely, "but you have to learn that."

"How?" Tara asked.

"In time, in time," Xanax said soothingly, "but for now, we must sleep." As quickly as the old woman had appeared, she disappeared again over the edge of Tara's cubbyhole.

"I'll stay with you tonight, I'll be here if you need me." Pax said quietly. Suddenly the cubbyhole seemed less constricting, almost cozy; lit only by a lantern Pax had brought with him. He settled somewhere behind Tara and she heard him moving around for several moments before he was still it took Tara several minutes of her own to get comfortable again, her head still throbbed slightly from where she had hit it, but everything had seemed to drift away in a dreamy haze, for which she was strangely grateful.

The tea she had drunk earlier seemed to have made her very sleepy, and after what only seemed like a few minutes she was sound asleep. Sleep, which was deep and dreamless.

 

All too soon, sunlight was intruding into their darkened sleeping quarters and slowly, they awoke one by one; Pax and Tara and came out of their cubbyholes to find Xanax cooking what appeared to be breakfast.

"Eat." She instructed, "We have a long journey ahead of us. It's still three days journey to the Stream of Consciousness."

Pax and Tara complied without speaking, Pax settling his small dish across his knees.

After their meager breakfast, they were on the road again, Tara wondering what the day would bring.

 

The next few days blurred into one another. After being in the maze for little over a week each path looked like the last but Tara had stopped trying to tell where she was. Apparently Pax and Xanax had no problem navigating the twists and turns and they seem to know where they were going.

Late one morning, several days later, Xanax quickened her pace, she seemed excited about something.

"We're almost there, two more turns up that way and we come to the stream. Then it's time for us to eat, wash and refresh ourselves. We should be able to get more food there as well, I'll see what I can find."

What greeted Tara's eyes a few minutes later was not what she expected. In contrast to the rest of the maze, the area surrounding the Stream of Consciousness was amazingly bright. There were what appeared to be trees against a softly glowing sky that was the color of an orange Creamsicle and the stream itself which appeared to stretch endlessly as far as the eye could see. Around the stream were several outcroppings interspersed with many small waterfalls.

"It's beautiful…" Tara whispered, feeling hopeful for the first time since she had arrived.

"I've always thought so." Pax mused. "The mind is a beautiful thing."

Before Tara could blink, Pax was stripping off his clothes and jumping into the stream from one of the outcroppings. Apparently, he was just as freckled everywhere else as his face and shoulders. Tara turned away, she didn't want to see anymore than she had to, but clearly Pax, she had noticed, was very good-looking.

A short distance away, Xanax was busy gathering fruit and several small berries from bushes and trees, even from where she was Tara could hear the old woman humming to herself.

She watched Pax (what she could see of him) splash and dive in the many pools, but suddenly he was beside her, fully dressed, his eyes twinkling a broad grin stretching his face.

"Your turn!" He said, "I'm sure you want to get cleaned up." Then he sauntered away, apparently to find Xanax.

Tara watched him leave then glanced around for a place where she could change, thankfully a large bush was nearby, which she took full advantage of. Then, making sure Pax still had his back turned, she darted out towards the stream. The water was surprisingly pleasant and she submerged herself rinsing the grease and grime out of her hair. She felt wonderful!

Suddenly Tara found herself holding a bar of soap, which she used to clean herself (she didn't know where it had come from, but at the moment she didn't stop to ponder the logic of it.) She was still drifting lazily about when she saw it; there in the water was Dylan's serious face, which with another ripple changed to laughing. Tara squinted, slightly alarmed, but when she looked again the image was gone.

After that, she cleaned up quickly, and after several minutes she was back in the bushes then fully dressed before going to find Pax and Xanax.

She found them under a nearby tree. Their knapsacks bulging with food and the canteens refilled with fresh water. She noticed that Xanax had taken off her slip on shoes; she had neat, but dehydrated looking feet and apparently she had taken advantage of the stream too. Then Pax shouldered the knapsacks and they set off again.

They were halfway down another path before Tara thought about what she had seen in the stream.

"Pax?" She asked, "I have a question?"

"What's on your mind?" He asked with a small smile.

"When I was in the stream I… I saw something. I saw my friend."

To her surprise, Pax laughed.

"Well it is the Stream of Consciousness, it tends to visualize whatever we think about, whether that's food, water, a place to rest or someone we care about." He gave her a warm smile.

"What do you see?" Tara asked, curious now.

Pax smiled, his blue eyes once again twinkling.

"Today, I saw you."

Tara almost stopped walking, taken aback.

"Me? Why would you see me?"

"I saw you as you are just now; you were thinking about me."

Tara blushed.

"You wonder how I can be so cavalier about being naked particularly in…" He glanced at Xanax who was walking some pieces ahead of them. "When you're on your own as I am," Pax replied sagely, "you make do with what you have, even if that means is skinny-dipping every once in a while out in the open." He winked.

Tara felt heat flood her face again and resolved to keep her mouth shut and not ask any more questions.

6: Chapter 6

Each day in the maze was like the day before, they rose in the morning, ate breakfast and walked. At night, Tara, Pax and Xanax would sleep in the hollows at the dead ends of the maze or in the crevices in the walls (when they could find them). It went on like this for several days until once again Xanax started walking faster, which Tara now knew meant they were getting close to something.

They paused at a point in the passed before Xanax pointed at a point somewhere beyond the wall next to her.

"There. There, a week's walk from where we are now is the Center. Within three days we will meet the Therapist."

"How do we get there?" Tara asked.

"Turn the corner and around this way." Xanax instructed.

When they followed the path Xanax was walking along they came to what seemed to be another dead end.

Tara looked around puzzled.

"Xanax, there's nothing here."

The old woman smiled (almost a smirk) holding up one gnarled finger.

"Ah! But looks can be deceiving."

Then she and Pax stepped forward and they each placed a hand on a particular spot on the wall in front of them and suddenly it began to quiver, and there, before Tara's astonished eyes, a small door appeared in the wall.

"Like Alice…" She muttered. This was definitely getting curiouser and curiouser.

Then Pax was beside her, his hand gently on her shoulder.

"This way," he said softly, "the direction of the maze changes. The closer we get to the Center the harder it will be for Depression, Anxiety, and Panic to get to you."

Xanax sniffed.

"They never come this far in, one because they don't have opposable thumbs and can't open the door, they lack the know-how and they know we will all tan their hides if they so much as come within sneezing distance of the Center and its pathways."

Tara giggled, she liked Xanax, she was weird but interesting and she certainly knew how to turn of phrase.

As they walked, Tara looked around her. This part of the maze was much different than what she had walked through so far. She noticed the closer she got to the center of the maze the brighter it seemed to get, but nothing was ever going to replace the image of the Stream of Consciousness in her mind.

Tara was even now walking more quickly, here the walls seem to be shorter and less imposing there were small hedges between some of the walls and spindly trees grew up in several areas. Even though she could see further she still couldn't see where they were going, even then, the maze was still endless.

From the time they went through the door even Pax seemed to relax. They were sleeping more in the open now, although they still took turns guarding Tara. Whenever she got anxious or upset Xanax would give her tea and she and Pax would stay up talking until the sun was creeping through the clouds and light made the shadows less visible.

 

Her depression seem to have lessened some ever since she had been at the Stream of Consciousness and seeing an end to the endless mess made her feel more hopeful than she had in days. It was only at night, so it seemed her mind got the best of her.

 By the end of the week they were nearing their destination (or what Tara assumed was their destination). One evening, when Xanax stopped in a darkened hollow Tara began to feel anxious again, feeling her breath hitch and her heart pound she reached automatically for Pax's hand, he returned her gesture reassuringly.

In front of them, Xanax was pacing, seemingly annoyed by something.

"He should be here by now. He has me running all over creation and the least he could do is show up on time."

Just as she spoke there was a rustling noise outside the hollow and a few minutes later a figure in a white coat ducked through the opening.

The figure was tall and slender, but slightly stooped. Like Xanax, he had long frizzy looking white hair, which put Tara in the mind of cotton balls. He had a long sloping nose and wild, bright blue eyes which were slightly obscured by large, bushy eyebrows.

"Xanax, I was wondering what was taking you so long." He turned his attention to Pax. "Paxil!" He exclaimed, "It's nice to see you again." The two men shook hands.

Finally, his eyes fell on Tara.

"Ah!" His eyes lit with understanding, "This is what took you so long… Another one for me to work with, I see."

Tara felt Pax's arm slide around her shoulders once more.

She looked up into the older man's engaging blue eyes.

"Who…?" She inquired, she wasn't even sure where to start or what question to ask first. Pax, however, seemed to read her mind.

"Tara," Pax made the introductions, "meet the Therapist, he's going to take us to the Center now."

7: Chapter 7

The Therapist extended his hand and Tara shook it.

"Dr. Kepler, if you don't mind. Now, if you will follow me." Without preamble, Dr. Kepler led them out of the hovel.

 

As they continued to walk Tara looked around her. Everything seemed vaguely brighter and for once, even Xanax was quiet. Dr. Kepler didn't speak much, only the occasional small talk, which Tara found oddly comforting.

They reached their destination within half a day and the sun was just darkening the sky when a small building appeared.

The Center, as it turned out, was a nondescript white building, which looked like it wouldn't have been out of place in an old-fashioned cemetery. It had no signage to mark the way only a small tan awning over the entrance. Around the building were a series of small shrubs and a neatly trimmed path; certainly the creatures and horrors of the Maze would seem out of place here.

"After you." Dr. Kepler gave a slight bow as he let Tara pass him, then he brought up the rear behind Pax and Xanax, shutting the door behind him.

They were greeted by a small mousy looking woman in violet colored scrubs.

"Welcome back Dr. Kepler." She nodded to Pax and Xanax in turn.

"Ms. Carter, if you will follow me, we'll get you cleaned up and ready to see Dr. Kepler."

Pax gave her an encouraging shove forward.

"I'll see you soon." He whispered.

 

Tara was led into another brightly lit white room it looked like some sort of locker room; certainly out of place in a medical facility.

"I'll let you get cleaned up, please change into these when you are finished." The nurse held out a pair of plain white garments.

Tara nodded and the nurse smiled before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

The shower felt wonderful! The soaps and lotions were sweet smelling and made Tara feel better than she had in days. Her impromptu bath seemed like an eternity ago and she was grateful for hot water and indoor plumbing. When she was finished showering and dressed she exited into a small waiting room where more nurses were milling around in the same violet scrubs. The same mousy nurse hurried over to her.

"Dr. Kepler will see you now." The woman said kindly. "Follow me."

Tara followed the nurse down another institutional looking hallway, her sock clad feet hardly making a sound. Finally they turned to the door of the only opened room and there was Dr. Kepler. He was sitting at a small desk, but the room also had a couch and a couple of chairs.

He nodded.

"Thank you Melody," he said quietly. "I think I take it from here."

The nurse, Melody, smiled and quietly exited the room.

Dr. Kepler settled Tara with a gaze that made her feel like she was being x-rayed, like he could peer into the deepest part of her. It made her feel vaguely unsettled.

"So, you are here because you've been dealing with depression and anxiety, is that correct?"

Tara blinked, unsure of how to answer.

"I-I-guess so." She stammered. "I-I don't know why though."

"Ah. Such are the vagaries of the mind." Dr. Kepler gave her a small smile. "I find the beginning is a good place to start. When did you start having symptoms."

"I-I-don't know. When I woke up in here. Last thing I remember I was having lunch with my friend, Dylan. He's my best friend." She added.

"One never exhibits symptoms in the Maze without exhibiting them in the real world first." Dr. Kepler continued, "Is there anything at all you remember before you ended up in the Maze?"

"Shock, panic, loss of control." Tara finally said.

"Why?" Dr. Kepler questioned.

"Well I-" Tara began, "Dylan he…"

Then the entire story (what she could remember of it) came pouring out. Dr. Kepler only nodding and jotting down notes periodically. He didn't speak until she had finished.

"Well all of these things can certainly cause anxiety. Now about your depression… How long has that been going on?"

"I don't know. A few months, I guess, but it always went away. Usually it only happened when Dylan left-since he doesn't live where I live anymore. He's always gone." She finished lamely."

Dr. Kepler nodded again.

"That's understandable." He said quietly.

Finally Dr. Kepler stood up, arranging his papers on a small clipboard. "I'm going to prescribe you a few things; Xanax and Paxil to help you with the anxiety and depression, but I think we'll start with Paxil's own concoction first, Xanax as needed."

He made to leave the room.

"I'll get you something to eat and your first dose. Then it's time to get some sleep and see about getting you home in the morning."

8: Chapter 8

Tara was put in a small room at the center. It was small and cozy, with a thin, narrow bed, a sidetable with a lamp and a small chest of drawers. She asked where Pax and Xanax were and told they were working, which everyone around here seem to do. Sometime later, she was brought two small pills and a cup of tea she recognized as Xanax's concoction.

The woman that brought them in was another nondescript nurse in violet scrubs, who had a soft, but firm voice.

"Now dear, you take these, they should help and you should be able to sleep. We'll see about getting you home in the morning."

Tara nodded mutely and did as she was told. On the tray where her medication and tea were, there was a small folded piece of paper with her name on it. As she sipped her tea, she opened it.

 

Tara,

Hope the medication helps, I would've given you some while we were traveling, but I don't have the authority to prescribe it. I'll see you in the morning, I promise. Xanax sends her regards; hope you like the tea.

Pax

 

Smiling briefly, Tara refolded the note, finished her tea and settled down to sleep feeling warm and relaxed. For the first time in almost two weeks, she felt like her life was falling into order. While she had become comfortable in this strange place she was grateful to be going home.

 

When Tara awoke the next morning, it took her a few moments to remember where she was, she was just sitting up when there was a knock on the door.

When the door opened, there was Pax, dressed in his normal brown tunic, his red hair tousled and his blue eyes shining over a full breakfast tray.

"I've brought you your breakfast," Pax said with a smile, "then I'm going to take you to the lab."

Tara gave a wry smile.

"More questions? More poking and prodding?" She asked.

Pax shook his head, laughing.

"No, I'm taking you to the scientists, they're going to help you get home."

While she ate her breakfast, she and Pax talked. It occurred to Tara it would be the last time she would probably do so and she would probably never see him again, which made her vaguely sad. After making sure she took her medication, Pax led her down another hallway the opposite direction from where she had come the night before, and at the end of the hallway there was another door leading into another large room, larger than any she had seen so far.

The room looked like what she had expected, the only perplexing thing were the numerous doors going a million different directions at various points in the room. What immediately grabbed her attention though were the two dozen men sitting on stools behind computers and microscopes. They were all dressed in the same white lab coats and most of them looked to be quite old, but from where she stood she couldn't tell.

Just then one man separated himself from the group and made his way over to them.

"Dr. Collins." He said shaking Tara's hand. "You must be Tara, Pax and Xanax have told me quite a bit about you."

"So how do I get back?" Tara asked.

Dr. Collins turned and pointed.

"That door, down there. I'll have David escort you."

 Just then another man in a lab coat appeared. He looked much younger than the rest of the men in the room, in fact, he looked to be no older than Tara herself. He grinned as he shook her hand introducing himself and instructed her to follow him, Pax followed behind, seeming to fade into the background.

Tara continued to look around the lab and she noticed each door had a label, seeming to pertain to different parts of the body.

She frowned, trying to remember where she had seen something like this before, her mind scrambling to come up with the answer.

She was saved from that task however when David stopped at a door at the very end of the room, clearly marked "EXIT".

"Well here we are. All you have to do is walk on through." This was said with a smile which made his hazel eyes twinkle.

Suddenly Tara stopped, looking around.

"Wait, I have to say goodbye… To Pax… And Xanax."

"Xanax should be around here somewhere…" David replied, looking around. "I'll see if I can find her." He disappeared in the maze of tables and chairs.

He returned a few minutes later with Xanax following behind him. Xanax, instead of her brown and blue tunic was also dressed in violet scrubs. It was only Pax, who seemed to be a character unto himself, who wasn't dressed in the formal medical attire.

"So," Xanax said with a smile, "getting out of your head, are you?"

Tara shrugged.

"I guess so."

Xanax reached up to hug her.

"Well, I hope you find what you are looking for, Tara Carter, and straighten out whatever sent you here in the first place."

Tara nodded.

"Yeah, me too."

Then Tara turned to Pax, his blue eyes smiling softly and once again it struck her how out of place he looked in his brown tunic (a clean one this time), pants, which looked better on him than they had on her, and boots. He was still a wild man if she ever saw one.

Then she hugged him, as hard as she could, as if she never wanted to let go.

"I'll miss you." She muttered into his shoulder, and was rewarded with a gentle squeeze.

"I'll miss you too." Pax murmured softly, "You're a special one, Tara Carter."

Tara gave him a watery smile as she pulled back and was surprised when he reached out and touched her cheek, his fingers lingering on her skin for a moment before pulling away.

"You better go, I don't want to hold you here any longer." He frowned as he looked over her head seeming to see and know something she did not.

Then she turned back to David, who was standing at the door like a doorman waiting to open it. With a loud groan, the door opened emitting a surprisingly cool breeze; Tara shivered.

"Whenever you're ready." David said softly.

Slowly, Tara stepped forward. Just as she reached the door, about to step over the threshold, she turned back looking from one face to another. Lastly, her gaze lingered on Pax again and he gave her a reassuring smile, nodding encouragingly.

Then, before she lost her nerve, she stepped over the threshold; into the coolness, into the nothingness… she was going back.

9: Chapter 9

The first thing Tara noticed when she came back was she wasn't in the same place she had been when she left. She was lying down (her eyes still closed at the moment) her body trying to reorient itself to the real world. She felt strangely sleepy and heavy like she didn't have a care in the world.

Tara was also aware of something over her nose and mouth, she tried to reach for it, but found her arms were too heavy to lift.

Slowly she opened her eyes, which proved to be very difficult they felt like they were made of lead and the insides felt like sandpaper.

She groaned.

Somewhere in the corner of the room someone moved and there was a disjointed voice squawking to her left, but she was too tired to care what it said.

A few minutes later a doctor and a nurse were rushing into the room and she realized she must be  in the hospital. When had she gone to the hospital? They shone bright lights in her eyes and asked her many questions, to which she muttered answers through parched lips. Finally, the nurse and doctor seem satisfied she was okay and left the room, closing the door behind them.

It was only then she managed to look around the room and noticed the figure sitting in the chair nearby. Even in the dimness, she recognized the curly hair and glasses.

"Dylan…?" She croaked. "Where am I? What happened?"

Then Dylan came into the light scooting the chair closer to the bed.

He was a little older than she was, but not much, his tousled blond curls and blue eyes behind his glasses were familiar. Today, he was wearing some pattern shirt and his usual jeans.

He looked tired, Tara thought, his face was pinched with concern and his blue eyes looked worried.

"You've been in a coma for almost two weeks." He said in a serious voice.

Tara tried to blink. She tried to form the word "what" but nothing came out, the closest she got was a soundless gaping.

"We were at lunch," he reminded her, "and you sort of passed out after I-came out-" he cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"I-I-think I had a panic attack." Tara managed quietly so only Dylan could hear her.

"Yeah," Dylan ran a hand through his already messy hair. "That's what they said, they gave you some stuff to calm you down, but they didn't want to do too much since you lost consciousness shortly after I brought you in. Your parents have been by a few times, they're really worried."

"What about you?" Tara asked.

"I've been on emergency leave for the past week or so. I'm going to have to go back to North Carolina soon."

Tara's already foggy mind processed this, Dylan had stayed, for her.

"I-want to talk about what happened…" Tara began.

Dylan cut her off.

"Later, rest. We can talk about it later, don't worry about it." He was still looking at her with that vaguely concerned look. "Your parents should be here soon, I'm sure the doctor has already contacted them."

Tara nodded vaguely before closing her eyes again.

 

She endured fifteen minutes of her parents fussing over her within the next hour and got the impression they didn't know exactly why she had fallen unconscious for the past two weeks. Even Tara couldn't explain that, even to herself. She still wanted to talk to Dylan and tell him about her experience in the Maze. She hoped he believed her.

It was almost another full twenty-four hours before she saw Dylan again. The doctors were still keeping her for observation and slowly letting her wake up and regain function of her body.

Today, the curtains in her hospital room were open and sun was streaming through them. Dylan was once again seated in the chair he had been sitting in the day before as they continued to talk.

"I have to tell you what happened to me."

"What do you mean, what happened to you?" Dylan asked frowning.

"After I lost consciousness I was in this kind of maze, this never ending maze and I had to find my way back."

"Yeah, well, I know the doctors said they were getting brain activity from you, but they weren't quite sure what was going on and why. You kept muttering Pax… Whatever that meant."

Then Tara explained about Pax and Xanax and their roles in her finding her way back.

"Paxil and Xanax are antidepressant and anti-anxiety medications." Dylan said, "I've been on a few myself. They were talking about putting you on some, but they had to wait until you had woken up."

Tara nodded again. She was going to see the doctor later today to address her anxiety and depression and what may have triggered it in the first place.

Finally, after Tara had exhausted all stories. She and Dylan's talk turned to more mundane things, even though Tara knew she had more to tell him. Their conversation was interrupted however, when her parents came in, her mother was carrying a bag which turned out to be several sandwiches from a local sandwich shop.

"I thought this would be better than that hospital food." Her mother said with a smile.

As her family prepared for lunch Dylan excused himself and they said their goodbyes, promising they would talk later, for which Tara was grateful. Then she turned her attention to her sandwich, roast beef and Swiss cheese had never tasted so good.

10: Chapter 10

Tara was released from the hospital a few days later, written instructions to follow up with a therapist shortly. She also had two new prescriptions, one for Paxil and the other for Xanax. While her parents were still perplexed as to what had triggered her "meltdown" (Tara certainly wasn't going to tell them) they were accommodating, although her mother still shooting her concerned looks every once in a while. Afterwards, however, Tara found this to be bothersome.

With some trepidation, Tara approached her first appointment with the therapist. She had opted to go to the appointment herself instead of taking her mother, because this created more problems than it did solutions. After a relatively short wait, Tara was ushered back to a small cozy looking room with a computer in one corner and a couple of chairs in another. After a few minutes there was a knock on the door.

The woman that walked in and was about what Tara had expected, tall and thin with her blond hair pulled back in a severe bun. She was wearing heavy squared spectacles and had wide startled blue eyes.

Sitting down in the chair next to the computer she introduced herself.

"My name is Sylvia Jamieson, but you can call me Sylvia." After that she was all business. "Now, I hear you're here about some anxiety and depression?" As she spoke, Sylvia consulted some pieces of paper on a clipboard she had brought in with her.

Unsure of where to start, Tara only nodded.

"When would you say all this started?" Sylvia asked.

Talking to Sylvia, Tara was reminded of Dr. Kepler; Sylvia Jamieson had the same penetrating gaze that she found slightly unnerving. Still Sylvia sat, her posture and tone relaxed, patiently waiting for Tara to answer.

"A-a few weeks ago. My best friend came out about his sexuality, well, you could say it was a bit of a shock."

Sylvia nodded again.

"I can imagine." She said sympathetically.

"Then it was like everything snowballed every little thing that had ever made me nervous or uncomfortable was triggering massive panic attacks, but I didn't know that's what they were until recently.

"What would you say makes you nervous?" Sylvia asked.

Tara shrugged.

"I don't know… Loud noises, like when people yell, if anyone's were mostly upset… I don't know. I guess I'm just afraid of upsetting people and what would happen if I did."

Then Tara was talking about things she hadn't ever talked about. She explained about how upset she got every time Dylan left, how depressed him leaving for college had made her feel.

"He's my best friend," she confessed, "we've been friends since we were kids and then… He's just gone and then all this other stuff happens… At some point I guess I just felt stuck."

"Do you have things you can do to deal with the anxiety?" Sylvia asked.

"I draw a little, sketching mostly. I run a little bit, when the weather is nice and ride my bike… Sometimes Dylan and I ride together."

Sylvia nodded.

"Good, good, exercise is good. The medication will help of course, but it will take a few weeks to have full effect. I also want to give you a couple of apps for your phone I think will help."

Tara nodded.

Sylvia began making notes on a piece of paper on the desk.

"Here is a tip sheet of other things that will help." Sylvia handed Tara the piece of paper she had been writing on. On the piece of paper was a small table of what would help anxiety and depression and what could hinder it. At the bottom of the page in scrawled handwriting were the names of the apps Sylvia had suggested; they had names like Breathe to Relax and Stop, Think, and Breathe.

Tara nodded again, folded the paper and put it in her purse along with her prescriptions from the doctor. After making her next appointment with Sylvia, Tara left, planning on heading for the pharmacy to fill her prescriptions and then going home to email Dylan, telling him everything she had experienced that afternoon.

11: Chapter 11

Six months later

Three doctor's appointments and several prescription refills later, Tara was feeling much better. While her situation wasn't perfect she was managing, and for the first time in many months really living.

Today, she was meeting Dylan for lunch. It was the second week in June and he was finally home. The weather was bright and sunny and she felt much better than she had that day six months previous, maybe they could even have that conversation Dylan had promised they would have.

He beamed when he saw her and Tara had the oddest sense of déjà vu, even though this was a different day, a different restaurant and a completely different season.

"Hey." He said easily, his eyes crinkled in that familiar sort of way as he sat down.

"Hey," Tara replied, "you doing okay?"

Dylan chuckled.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He asked, as he sat down, "How's the medication working?"

Tara nodded.

"Good." She replied, "It's going good, other than the side effects…" She shrugged.

Dylan nodded in response.

"Good, and yeah, the side effects can be a pain, but they go away eventually."

They talked like this for a few more minutes before a perky looking waitress came to take their order. She was much older than the waitress that had waited on them at the other restaurant had been, and seemed much more businesslike, instead of spending her time flirting with the customers. After they had placed their orders and the waitress had wandered away, Tara spoke again.

"So how are you doing… I mean, with the sexuality stuff?"

"I'm doing okay. Every time I tell someone it gets easier, but that doesn't make it any less personal." He gave a wry smile, "I mean, it is my life."

A short time later, the waitress had returned with their drinks and they were placing their orders for food. When the waitress had left again, they continued their conversation.

"I didn't mean to scare you, or freak you out." Dylan ran a hand through his curls, "I didn't think when I came out to you it would put you in a coma for two weeks." He chuckled ruefully, but there was little humor in his tone.

Tara absently stared into space.

"Yeah…" She mumbled."

She was casting about for something else to say to fill the awkward silence that had settled between them when she suddenly remembered something.

"Wait a minute! I just remembered, I drew you something the other day."

Reaching into her purse, Tara pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Dylan.

Slowly, Dylan unfolded it and looked at it for several minutes before looking up.

"Oh…" A small smile twisted his mouth, but Tara wasn't quite sure what it meant, "Thank you."

The picture was a pencil sketch of Dylan standing against the LGBT flag with a solemn looking expression.

"You inspire me." Tara said softly, "coming out like that… And dealing with it on social media on top of that… I think speaking up the way you have been that was really-is really brave."

Dylan grinned sheepishly.

"Thanks." He replied. "I'm just doing my best to help other people… other Christians… I mean."

He paused for a moment before continuing.

"You know Tara, you're pretty brave too, dealing with a mental illness, it's not easy stuff to deal with, I know."

Tara stared at the tabletop, intensely studying the intricate detail of the wood grain.

"That's nothing compared to what you're dealing with." She mumbled.

"Sure it is," Dylan replied, "just in a different way. We each have our battles, God never gives two people the same journey."

"Are you going to church again?" Dylan asked changing the subject, he was now playing with his napkin and picking at a bread stick on the table.

Tara nodded.

"I'm thinking of taking a few classes and joining a small group… If I can find one."

"That's good. You need that connection Tara, it's not good for you to be alone so much."

Tara could almost hear him add "when I'm gone" but she knew he wouldn't say that.

She gave him a wry smile, which turned into a full blown grin.

"You sound like my mother, she's always encouraging me to go out. I'm trying, but nothing seems like the right fit, you know?"

Dylan nodded again.

"Well I'm not your mother; I'm just concerned."

Tara sighed.

"I know."

They fell into silence again. Tara was about to say something else when the waitress came to their food and she was grateful for the distraction. As Dylan began cutting up his food and Tara was doing likewise her friend posed his next question.

"I saw your drawing of that guy the other day; the one you posted on Facebook. So," Dylan looked her squarely in the eyes, the intense blue of them making her feel like she was being x-rayed, "are you ever can you tell me what happened in those two weeks you were in the coma? What you remember, that is."

Tara was quiet for a long time before she spoke. At first she wanted to give her knee-jerk flippant response but then she thought better of it.

"Well," she said, "the first thing I remember is it was windy. Very dry and hot, like a desert, and that was all before I opened my eyes."

12: Reader's Note

This story was interesting to write. For the most part the story came off the top of my head with no outline supporting it. It is primarily based off my experiences in the past few years, particularly my experiences with anxiety and depression, this was just a fun way of illustrating that. For anyone reading this I hope it opened your eyes in some way or helped you in whatever you're dealing with. This story was very therapeutic for me and I hope it was just as therapeutic for you reading it.