Her legs were trembling so much that she could barely walk. She could imagine the thousands of people watching the show laughing at her. Thousands of sadistic strangers sat comfortably in their homes, watching Femie struggle through this maze of horrors, with only a slim chance of freedom.
A slim chance was all she needed. Even if finding the exit only meant reopening her trial, she had to keep going.
Finally, she managed to waddle shakily up to the next door. She used the handle to steady herself before putting the key into the lock.
She pulled the door open and immediately jumped back as she saw a person stood directly in front of her. Her heart raced as she stumbled back and fell painfully onto the ground.
Femie laughed nervously in relief as she realised that it was only a mirror. She climbed back onto her feet and moved closer to it. It was huge, to the point where it filled the doorway. She tried to push it back, but it remained firmly in place. There was nowhere that she could find to pull it open, so Femie just resorted to looking at her reflection.
All that she saw were her own deep brown eyes staring back. She saw now what six years in prison had really done to her. The dirt covered prison mirrors had a way of hiding the faint lines that now peered through her once smooth skin; the dark circles permanently etched under her eyes; the depression that replaced any hope she'd had all those years ago. Her oversied, grey prison uniform, now stained with brown, made her seem smaller, weaker.
Minutes passed and Femie couldn't quite leave the mirror behind. She was seeing herself properly for the first time in years, and she didn't know when - or if - she would see it again.
"You have to keep going," she said aloud, talking at her reflection as if it could hear her.
"Go."
She wrenched her gaze from the mirror and shut the door, stealing a quick final glance.
After shutting the door, she stared at the white panels and didn't know how to feel. She longed to open the door and stay with her reflection, but forced herself to walk away. It wasn't vanity that made her want to stay, nor was it a wish to give up. It was a craving to have another human with her. The mirror had reminded Femie of how alone she really was, and she had to use every once of self-discipline she possessed to leave it behind.
Femie's mind seemed to stay with the mirror as she moved on to the next door. Leaving the mirror behind seemed to have opened up a pit in her stomach. She had experienced this feeling only once before, when she was dragged away from her family to spend life in prison.