Looking into the mirror before me I see those lost eyes: big bright blue dimming, slowly. My locks of hair deep dark brown breeze in the wind. But that smile, that lost smile, gone. I once knew how to laugh, how to be the soul of the party but I forgot how. In the depths of my lost mind my once beaming smile faded to only a memory of my gardener: my best friend.

Running through the woods is like to reading a book. My once great imagination interested in every word. When I get to the river a memory will always flick through my mind but no image do I see. Forgotten pasts haunt me
in dreams.

Every meal from now on, I sit myself down on the bench, chair, stool what ever and wherever. The plate is placed in front of me and everyone ‘digs’ in. Every mealtime I eat half. Pippin from times visited has always eaten the rest but not now: now they force it down me until I get angry.

That mirror before me is telling me a memory I should be. I should be happy, joyous to the world. The smile that the girls always loved should bring me that but instead I am the Frodo I wish not to be but cannot see
how to change.

Paler and paler skin each day I do not eat fully. Sam worries; I see it in his eyes day by day. The food I get makes me sick. Delicious the smell and the taste so succulent but eating it makes me want to throw it all up.
The smile that brought me any girl, fails me when I need it most. Birthdays I give presents but I have no joy to give them either.

Sometimes I think to myself that I will venture out to the boundaries of the shire once more but when darkness comes, I find myself thinking, “If I remember unwanted times in dark in my bed of softness, safety: how
will I cope on my own in the woods” I tried: many times. The last time I wondered and remembered so much I
frightened myself so much to actually run half witless back to Bag End.

It is night and once more my thoughts have kept me awake. My tears have left me with red aching eyes. Rubbing them only makes them worse. Sam sleeps luckily safe and sound along with Rosie. My nightmares have given me no favours. Eating hardly half these past few days has made me tired, confused and worried for even myself. Standing stark naked shows me the thinness I have become. The reflection before me points my ribs out just like that, sticking out I pinch my skin and I can’t even grab it. Just skin and bone I have become: why can’t they leave me alone.