Where am I?

This was written for the contest "Where Are You?"

I step into the open doorway, into a space I never had explored.  The ceilings are high, the area vast and wondrous. Where am I? The walls are a lifeless grey with no windows to bring warm rays of light. I step further into the room; take in the wide range of smells that seem to come in turns, all of them familiar. I smell loose soil patted still, dance in the scent of perfume used by my mother before job interviews, I breathe in deeply the aroma of steaming tea so warm and soothing and drink in the glorious still night air. Soft music plays accenting the comforting smells.

 

            As I wander deeper into this room of mystery I hear faint sounds echo through the walls. Innocent laughter of children so young, giggle and bounce around this bland space. I smile and run forward, searching for the source of cheerful banter, I hurry along, my eyes scanning each side. I see shadows creep lankily in the ever expansing shadows but when I steal a sideways glance I see nothing but empty corners.

 

I slow my pace as the laughter softens; turning into muffled cries and the music deepens to solemn strings. Cello`s and violin`s make the walls weep and my heart beats hard as the sobbing fills the room and tugs at my chest. The room darkens to a charcoal grey and I cringe away from haunting laughter. I spin around to look for the door, to leave this sad place but more hard wall now takes its place.

 

            I’m trapped in this twisted room of changing sensation without a compass to lend me direction. Where do I go? I walk forward slowly, straining my eyes to spot hidden dangers. I feel such pain in my chest, like a sharp blade protruded from my heart and I clutch at my chest with white knuckled hands gasping in large gulps of air. The whimpering subsides and morphs into soft whispers which I cannot decipher, but the pain in my chest quiets alongside the sobs and I can now breathe again.

 

            Light breaks in from an unidentifiable source and breaks through the dense darkness. Bright colours begin to spread on the lifeless walls, bursting with flashes of pinks, yellows, purples and greens. The floor beneath me transforms from hard cement into a soft carpet of gentle blue which cushions each of my precarious steps. I now feel a light inside me glowing brightly through my soft skin and I get an urge to run! To laugh and sing along with the now lively music that awakens this room; crashing symbols, celebratory drums and blaring trumpets! The music radiates joy and love and peace at last.

 

            I laugh and grin from ear to ear as I spin and dance in the colourful place until the walls sprout rows upon rows of diversely sized mirrors. I slow my pace as I gaze wonderingly into each flat surface; I stop in front of one which reflects back a little girl, big wide eyes and a curly mop atop her pretty head, the reflection waves to me before running off to join two young boys as they plow through a field of mud.  I smile and move past the mirror and onto the next, this one shows me a different image; that same little girl huddled up close to one of the boys who looks so much like her, she trembles in his protecting arms and I pull my eyes away from their sad, matching faces.

 

            Each mirror I pass shows me a different time, a different story and a different mood. Mirrors of death and life and love and loss, mirrors of good times and the bad, mistakes, regrets and courage. I see images of the little girl in various stages of life; I see the selfless good done for countless others, selfless acts done by others in return. I see times of being lost and times of being found. I look curiously into each, the images holding so many meanings, so many lessons and challenges.

 

I now come to the end of the room where one final, full length mirror stands overshadowing the others.  Hundreds of photos fill the entire wall around the mirror and I look to each with genuine fascination. There was one of a guitar standing polished and solitary, another of silhouettes holding hands in a group. Paintings of self expression, mask of comedy and others tragedy. I admire a photo of fresh greenery lavished with elegant handwritten poetry and images of artwork and lust. There are pictures of animals, children, elderly and the disabled, all smiling brightly, all equal and content. I see hope, desire, strength and equality.

 

I turn to the final mirror in the center of all these pictures, the surface ripples like water and I reach out a steady hand to gently touch the glass. The ripples stop and solidify at my gentle touch and I find myself looking at one final reflection. I smile looking into the glass, my own reflection grins back.

 

Where am I you ask?

“Oh, in my mind of course.”

Author's Note

I wondered what it would be like to enter my own mind, every detail in here-no matter how subtle- represents something.

Reviews

[M. Freeman]

Sharp description. Your prose has a richness, a vividness to it, which should be viewed as a strength as you continue to develop your craft. I also like that you make heavy use of subtext, which means you clearly grasp that narrative should have multiple elements, which is something a lot of aspiring writers don't get. I did find some unnecessary words, but nothing an afternoon reading the piece aloud couldn't fix.

My only concern is that this feels less like a story and more like a vignette or a "proof-of-concept." These things are fine by themselves, but they're more things you play with as exercises to stretch your creative joints, so to speak, rather than full-blown narratives. Characterization, tension, plot--these all need more development before this becomes a full story.

I think you have talent, and I that this piece showcases a lot of potential. I just also think it feels somehow... incomplete, like maybe there are concepts here which one day will form the underpinnings of a full-story. I say keep playing with it, let it bang around in your head, let it bounce off of other ideas and concepts, and see what sorts of new synergies emerge. Most importantly, keep writing. Good work!

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

Wow! This was amazing! I could see everything so clearly and I would love to see a short film adaptation. You are really creative. I actually felt surrounded by the scenery. I was IN your mind.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This was wonderful, like walking through a waking dream; mystical, magical and really lovely...great job on this and I enjoyed reading!