Chapter - 1

The mirrored world, a different reality

Chapter " 1

A different Reality

Time passed and Zach was dry enough to help Mewz with his Math. Although with his constant rambling about the end of the world annoyed Zach, he decided to give an ear to the kid, just so he could shut up.

His prophecy went like this:

“Hey. Hey, hey. Remember the story Papa told us back then?

The story about how a world, opposite to ours, like a mirror existed?

And then the mirrored world and the real world waged wars and eventually, reality won? Ever since then, the mirrored world became a part of every reality’s mind? Y’know, as ‘imagination’? Remember he said, ‘The thin mirror world shattered to form the millions of shards we see as stars today. It showed how a beautiful world we destroyed but would always grow in our heart’?

DON’T GIVE ME THAT LOOK! You just forgot. That’s all.”

Zach was at sea. “And this relates to the ‘end of the world’. How?”

Mewz huffed angrily and started again:

“You’re missing the point!

If this story was true, then the mirrored world is waging a war again! This time, they’re gonna win! They’re gonna get back reality!”

Zach didn’t know what to say. His ‘prophecy’ merely stood on sticks about a bed-time story Uncle Wiles had told them. But not to dampen the boy’s spirits he asked, “How can you possibly prove such a ‘mirrored-world’ even existed? That’s just impossible.”

Mewz shot a triumphant look and opened the wooden windows to the dark star-filled night sky. The weather was finally clear and quiet. The boy pointed at the stars and then to the bright new moon.

“It’s right there! See, if those are stars we see, then those are the pieces of the mirrored world! And look, they’re forming together the moon! That’s the mirror world! And the moon causes tides, remember?”

It wasn’t fully wrong. Except for it defied every logical, scientifically and rational explanation ever given on the planet. Zach shook his head and laughed in a soft tone at his little brother. He was absurd but hey, you couldn’t blame him. He believed his father. And who knows? Maybe, it might be the truth after all…

Zach was ready to ask why the moon vanished after a fortnight, but he decided to keep that to himself. Mewz’s bright face soon dampened. “Do you believe me, Zach?” he whimpered.

Zach, who’d, spaced out jerked back to his brother’s sudden question. He looked at the moon and sighed. Who knows… Maybe… It’s a whole new world out there…The ‘mirrored reality’… “Imagination huh…? I believe you, Mewz.” Zach finally said.

“You said that just to shut me up!” he cried.

“I love how you know me so well.”

“What?”

Mewz concentration dithered for a minute there. That’s when it hit Zach. Fool! Zach wanted to face-palm himself.

“I didn’t hear you. It’s no use hiding it from me!” Mewz jumped over to his big brother and started rattling him by his collar.

“Mewz, I believe you. Swear it on my neck…agh, you’re choking me!”

“What was that? I didn’t hear you!”

“Mewz…ack, LET GO--”

“Mewz, stop trying to kill your brother, this instant!”

Uncle Wiles climbed up the narrow stairs. His head almost hit the roof. He held a tray of food, dinner, for the two kids.

The brothers’ bedroom was small, the same size of that of the living-cum-kitchen room downstairs. It had beds on either side. On the left was Zach’s, filled with sea-shells, tiny bells, chimes, and a few glittery stones. It also had piles of books under it. On the right, was Mewz’s bed. His bed was covered with several ‘how-to-draw’ books and though very tiny, the mattress was over-flowing with beads. Beads. Beads of different sizes, shapes, colors, designs, patterns, some were attached to a thread, some were flowing out of a box and some were neatly arranged near the big, fluffy pillow. Mewz had an old, worn out brown shoe-box under his bed. He said it was his secret and well, Zach respected it. Because he already knew what was inside. Come on, what could an 11-year-old possibly hide?

Uncle Wiles chuckled as he trod, trying not to hit his head on the roof. “Dinner’s ready, and enough prophecy-telling Mewz.”

“It isn’t a prophecy!” Mewz shouted with stubbornness.

Their meal was fairly very, very simple. The tray held two wooden bowls of tomato soup, two plates of bread loaves and a bottle of Jam and a cake of butter. It also had a small bowl of mashed potato near one plate.

Uncle Wiles had also bought them milk. “Bon appetite my little ones.” He said with love and tramped down.

Mewz had a strange appetite. Rather than eating bread with jam and butter, like normal people do, he ate his bread with mashed potatoes. “My personal favorite,” he’d say every time.

Zach never demanded much. He’d eaten all sorts of rich food at school, but nothing beat Uncle Wiles’ simple food. Tasty, healthy and well, simple.

After a satisfying meal, Zach returned the dishes down and washed them clean. Uncle Wiles had nothing much either. He had an extra tea for milk. Zach flashed a smile as he went back upstairs. He’d never forget to do so. It was way of saying, “Hey, thanks for all the food lately.”

Uncle Wiles would pleasantly smile back.

After dinner time, the brothers’ had to clean up their messy room. Zach found all sorts of stuff he liked, untouched on his bed. He had a knack for collecting small things like stones, sea-shells, bells and more. Mewz was a little different. He liked beads. Or anything that looked like a bead. He wore his own creations, like rings and bracelets in his hands. He was not an amateur or just some random bead-collector and ornament maker. He had raw skill. He knew how to put which bead where to create a perfect jewel. This fascinated Zach so much he had his own pendant for his mother’s necklace, designed by Mewz.

After a few minutes of cleaning up, Zach bent down to arrange his books. He had only a common type of books. Books about stars and planets and about sea-shells. He loved reading them. He knew every star, constellation and planet there is. He also knew every type of sea-shell, every color, pattern and shape.

As he was going through his little world, Zach realized his brother Mewz being unnaturally quiet for a while. He peeked behind.

Mewz was sitting with the torn shoe-box on his lap. It had a label with a poorly and illegible written handwriting on it stating, ‘Mewz Seekrat’.  (It spelled ‘Mewz Seekrat’, as to what a 6 year-old could write back then.)

Zach knew. That torn-out box boxed all of Mewz’s childhood. What he did as a child, his first beads and bead-ornaments, his first pictures…but most important of them all, were photographs. Photographs of Aunt Lia and Uncle Wiles. Aunt Lia was an excellent designer. Give her anything, she’d make the best out of it, be it flowers to a bouquet, rags to a dress and yes, beads to a jewel. The box had Aunt Lia’s first and last works. Mewz looked up to his mother, whom he never saw. He wanted to pick up where she left off, and now Zach was feeling guilty to have invaded his brother’s privacy.

After a quite while, as if things couldn’t get worse, Mewz whimpered under his breath. This however, did not surprise Zach. Mewz had to go through so much pain at such a young age. He wished all his brother’s pain to be on Zach’s shoulders instead.

Zach tried to recall how Aunt Lia looked. She was a beautiful woman. Mewz had her eyes, bright, burning amber. She had a calm face, long brown, wavy locks and a voice as sweet as an angel’s.

Although that memory was now burned down, to ashes, Zach wished he’d never reminisced.

“It’s my fault,” Mewz whispered quietly.

This took Zach.

“It’s my fault, she died,” Mewz whispered again. Zach could see small droplets fall on a picture he was holding.

“Hey, Mewz, cut it out man, I know you’re strong. Only girlies cry, remember?”

“I’m not a girly!” The little boy screamed and pounced behind to his brother. The next few minutes, the clean room was put under warfare.

“Timeout, boys!” Uncle Wiles screamed from down the stairs as he climbed.

Mewz had won the battle, therefore, was sitting on Zach, who was face-down.

“Pfet ooph, Foos!” Zach cried with his face labeled on the floor.

“I don’t speak Loser-language!”

“GET OFF, MEWZ!”

“Hehe”

“Whatever--” Uncle Wiles started and then paused to find for words. “Whatever are you doing Mewz? Your brother is not a camel. If he was, he’d be a very handicapped one of that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zach retorted as he sat up.

Uncle Wiles pulled out a chair from the corner and sat in-front of the stairs. He then cleared his throat.

The two boys rushed to their beds, eager for their story-time.

Uncle Wiles started:

“This story is about a Queen, in the mirrored world, name Alsea. She was a very snobby and proud queen. Added to that she was greedy and very hostile. Because of this, her heart gave in to dark powers and her dark powers grew and grew…”

Zach must have nodded off at some point… because when he came to, the whole world was a different story.

Author's Note

please ignore failed attempt at humor.