The+Funhouse+Effect

by Kirsten Corcoran Start by walking up the narrow steps, They may go in a circle or they may go straight, either way you are already questioning yourself.

Then you enter the house and instantly you see yourself, not figuratively, but literally, dozens, maybe even hundreds of copies, all staring, silent, waiting.

You begin to grope your way forward, cautiously, slowly, your hand outstretched and you gently bump into glass. You readjust and continue deeper into the maze of you.

Just when you begin to gain confidence BAM! You walk into the glass and the copy inside looks at you, bewildered and a bit embarrassed.

You stare at the image in the mirror until you realize just how close you are to yourself. You quickly push away from the mirror and try to find the path again.

BAM! Another mirror, another doppelganger. BAM! You’ve lost your way completely. BAM! The images turn mocking and sinister. BAM! They become your darkest nightmares, your deepest fears. BAM! You start to hyperventilate. BAM! You move faster. BAM! You can’t escape this hall of dread. BAM! BAM! BAM!

Just when you can take no more, when you fear ever being free, you turn the final corner and the hall of mirrors and all those laughing, mocking faces disappear.

But you have not time to catch your breath. Almost immediately you find yourself in a deceptively short tunnel that spins continually.

If you were smart, you would get out while you could, but you’re still shaken up from you experience in the Hall of mirrors and can’t collect your thoughts or think straight.

You step into this tunnel and instantly find yourself in another struggle for your footing, your dignity, your sanity.

Spinning and spinning and spinning. You stumble forward, completely off balance.

Spinning and spinning and spinning. The motion eerily similar to the motion of your life.

Spinning and spinning and spinning. You can’t stop the motion, the disillusionment, the confusion, the fear.

Finally, when you fear your legs giving out, fear losing your balance the light at the end of the tunnel is reached, and you half step, half fall out of the whirling vortex of doom.

Even more shaken than after leaving the hall of mirrors, all you want is to get out of this funhouse and back to your normal life.

But the way back is further than the way ahead and you can’t imagine going back through it all. So you press onwards, hoping the end is near.

At this point, the funhouse changes, depending on the person. Some will find a never ending series of ramps, up and down, up and down, the roller coaster of life. Some will find their footing once again tested in the motion of floor panels, stumbling their way through life. Some will find themselves the center of attention, surrounded by an audience as they navigate the funhouse, their worst fear.

Finally you reach the last obstacle, only one thing remains between you and freedom. A strange shape, a yawning darkness that you semi-fear.

But the desire to escape the insanity and the crushing uncertainty overrules any inhibitions you might have. You step up, take a seat and let yourself go.

Free! Free! Free at last! You slide out of the clown’s mouth… which is really just the way life goes.

A funhouse. What child doesn’t love a funhouse? What adult doesn’t fear it?