Illumine

In a corner of the forgotten attic hangs a broken piece of mirror, the edges like jagged teeth against the paneled wooden walls. Through the thick layer of dust marring its surface I can see a vague bluish outline of a person, fairly short, probably young, gender undeterminable. That's me. That's as far as I come to a mental image of what I look like.

The thing is, I don't have any memories.

There was a before, but I can't remember it all at once. I try to find answers to the questions that are bound to arise after endless years of sitting betwixt the same four walls alone, but there is an unbreachable barrier there, wedged into my mind in all the wrong places.

Sometimes, memories resurface.

Like times when I can bring myself to watch the strange talking box downstairs. Watching some sort of depressing family gathering comprised of rude weeping strangers, a flash of times long gone by hit my senses, combined with the reality.

(two girls with pigtails, skipping around a kitchen)

(a woman with a tired smile, setting dinner on the table)

(a door opening, shutting; a man shuffling in, kissing the woman, ruffling my hair)

(I blinked a lot, and then the memory ended. I had fallen asleep.)

And then, one of the strangers on the TV shouted at another, "Kieran!" and suddenly I knew it was my name. But the stranger wasn't me, because the stranger lifted a glass of wine to his lips and took a sip. He was alive, and I am so not.

 

I suppose I should have known today was Halloween. It's my own fault for not consulting the calender downstairs on a regular basis. But there would have been nothing I could do anyway, nothing but worry and gnash my teeth in dread of the fade.

The fade happens gradually, it happens everyday. But it happens faster and far more intensely every Halloween. I don't know why, and I guess I never--

Don't listen to anything she says, m'kay, kid?

What?

I said--

"How are you feeling, Kieran?"

I spin around, causing the cold pumping through my unactive veins to stab against the inside of my skin. The pain isn't real, because my body isn't real, I know that. It's all in my mind. But I still wince, even before I really catch sight of the stunning woman standing in the middle of the room.

--don't listen to anything she says.

The woman smiles gently, making her cheeks form ripe pink apples, shiny with spring newness. Her red hair sits regally atop her head, the sun holding court in a pale morning sky. Her pure white robe billows out behind her, as if in a delicate wind.

"Hello, Kieran," she says. "My name is Illumine. I am here to help you."

"I-I-I-I. Hello," I stammer.

A laugh as musical as any serenade fills up the attic, the house, the entire universe. "I'm sure you're not used to speaking, are you?"

Speechless, I shake my head vigorously.

She suddenly turns gravely serious. Somehow, she is even more beautiful this way. "Tell me, have you spoken to anyone recently?"

Kid.

"Ah, y-yes."

"Did he imply he was the Devil?"

"No, he said he was."

Damn. You.

Illumine laughs again, and I realize I would do a lot of things to make her keep making that sound, filling up my silences.

"He may say what he likes," she says lightly, "But my brother isn't the devil. He is only a demon, a minor pawn of evil." Suddenly, light fills up the space around her, a halo of her entire being. As if she wasn't stunning enough. "And I am an angel."

 

Reviews

[Shep]

Ok I said come back and I did. Reread up to thie point. Not a bad beginning. Liked what I read and some strange reason I wanted more. I can't believe I said it. But there it is,so you better get to it.