my name’s makayla, i’m sixteen, and i live in pennsylvania. i used to think i knew who i was, but i feel like i’m losing more and more of myself everyday. i’m only sixteen, i know, but i feel like i should’ve had the whole world figured out by now, and i don’t. i hardly know a thing anymore. all i know is that i love to write, and yet, my inspiration for that is thinning and thinning with each and every passing day. i feel worthless, useless and i can’t do a thing about it. i was born to say things others fear, born to do what others fear, born to do something, make something of myself. but what if i can’t? i fear this. it grows inside me, this worry, and i can’t change it. i can only hope that someday i will make a difference, if not in the world, than in just one person. but how can i change someone’s life when i don’t even know where mine is going? i’m so confused. i fear that i will never make it out of the labyrinth. all I’ve got is this nostalgia, this stupid nostalgia that keeps me going for the time being, keeps me thinking that i will escape this small town. it’ll never happen unless i do something, and right now, even at sixteen, i’m worrying if i can get out. college is so expensive and it’ll only get worse for when it’s my turn to try and run away from this place. how am i supposed to make something of myself?
will i make it out of the labyrinth?