//------------------------------//
// A Letter Found in Locker #730  
// Story: What the Mirror Saw 
// by Seirhune 
//------------------------------//

If you are reading this letter, you must really be persistent.  Also, I am probably not dead, though that would be dramatically satisfying for an opener.

I mean, I really planned to wedge this behind the left locker panel really tight.  Did you get a crowbar?  I suppose you want a reward.  Fine.  I’ll tell you my secret.

I never thought that, in the end, my hero would be Lazlo.  Also 36-23-55.  I know it’s not the right combination to this locker, just trust me.

Sorry, even my letters ramble now.  I guess if you were determined enough to find this then you might sympathize with my eccentricities.  You might even look in the mirror and see a face not colored with the most insane colors out of a box of Crayola.

Probably or hopefully, I’m long gone.  It’s hard to remember who changed first.  It is easy to remember how no one seemed bothered as it started spreading.  The ones with mostly the odd hair colors passed by without notice from me, probably.  After all, who the flip cares what people’s hair color is these days?  The first girl to come in with greenish skin though…

The colors.  The colors and the names.  No one seemed to care!  I wasn’t a bad student, and I tried to blend in as things progressed.  I remember telling my parents once what was happening, but they didn’t seem bothered.  They changed too, much later.  The students changed first though.  Then the adults.

They still knew me, somewhat, and I quickly learned to adapt to their styles and their new names.  They were similar people at least.  Families stayed together, with one exception.  The project was done by then, at least.

I learned when to blend in and I learned when to hide.   Do you?  Do you need to?   Maybe you exist here and there.  I think I only exist here, and that’s the problem.  Or perhaps the solution.

I wonder what would happen if I had stepped through the portal.  Would I cease to exist?  

Maybe I’ll come back one day and find out.  If I still exist I hope I can…put things back the way they were.  If you understand, godspeed to you.  If you don’t then…well, enjoy the magic and leave this letter for the next guy.

Sincerely,
The last Camelot High Stallion.