Mirrors into the world.

I have no memories of a place besides this room. I don’t know if I was born here or if there’s another reason for my presence. My every memory conscious or otherwise, is from within these walls. The room itself is big. Luxurious even. I’d say the size of an average classroom. Each wall, including the sealing is a mirror of sorts, even the floor I stand on. But these mirrors do not reflect. They show me the world outside, at least.. That’s what I tell myself. I see different things every day. Life on a daily basis, happy families, classrooms in session, tourism, even life undersea.

 

I’ve been here for what I can only imagine to be years. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t be able to tell you the truth, for I simply don’t know. There’s no night or day here. I sleep when the mirrors stop showing me whatever it is they show me, and wake up when they do.

 

I’ve often told myself that I’m special for maintaining my mental health throughout all this. Who could possibly endure seeing life, but not being able to participate in life? I’m still here though, thinking rationally and trying to survive.

 

How rude of me.. I forgot to tell you.. My name is Dexter. I’m a male, that much I’m sure of. Can’t tell you my age, but I seem to be an adult. Not old.. I like to think I’m around 25. Don’t appear to have any family, brothers, siblings, friends. Maybe I do somewhere, but I don’t remember. I haven’t had any interaction with anyone, since I woke up here and those are my earliest memories as I already mentioned. I do have dreams, wishes, fantasies. The mirrors like to take advantage of this in fact.

 

Let me share with you a moment in my recent history. I woke up, like any other “day”, as soon as the mirrors activated. They showed me a family, father, mother, three kids. Happy, struggling, fighting, but ultimately hugging and protecting each other. For days on end afterward, I saw every moment in their lives. School, bedtime, dinner time, the good, the bad, all of it. I was particularly shaken when the daughter, a 10 year old girl, was brutally bullied by her peers. They made up all kinds of lies about her, including sexual accusations. The tears I cried as I saw it unfold. The worst kind of torture imaginable is to see, but not be able to react. My biggest dream by the way, is one day waking up from this nightmare and having my own family.. People to protect, love, shelter and watch grow into the best they can be. I imagine that’s why the mirror showed me these things. That’s really what I think they are after all. Mirrors that show you your deepest and darkest desires.

 

Truth is.. Your dreams and desires are the key to your soul. They show you what you need the most, but they also play tricks on your mind. The more you fight for them, the more they remain out of reach. These mirrors do exactly that. As I dream about having my own family, they show me precisely that, but every second, they remind me that I cannot have it, only see.

 

I’ve had good days and bad days. Recently I even tried to take a swing at a mirror to see if it can be broken and what would happen. Ended up having a headache, nothing else. Might not have been smart to bash into one full force with my head, but hindsight is 20/20 as they say.

 

I’m currently seeing the birth of a child, a girl.. Funny.. In my head I immediately named her Chloë, I like that name a lot you see. Mirrors ran with it too, so several minutes later, I see her father filling out her name.. Chloë. At that moment, I realised something though.. My thoughts controlled what I saw, because of my purest desires.

 

As the hours? Days? Weeks? Went on.. I saw the girl grow up into a fine young woman.. Her father, who was single, like me and in fact.. Looked exactly like me, or so I imagine anyway, mirrors have never shown me my own face, was taking good care of her. He had a job as teacher, and a home in the middle of nature. When he was not around, she was either looked after by family, or at school. When he wasn’t working, he was taking her on all kinds of adventures. Teaching her about nature, the world, humanity, philosophy, the stars, anything really. She always has the best time of her life, but she was also taught to fight for what she believes in. Do her chores and work hard.

 

One day, she became old and sentient enough to think about her future, beyond the now. She asked him what her life what look like when she grew up, when he wasn’t around anymore. I cried as I watched. The only thing rushing through my head was to scream loud enough, hoping that she could hear me, that no matter what, I would be watching and guiding her. Her father said the exact same thing in fact, moments later. He painted a picture where he explained to her, that even if he was no longer physically around, she could still feel his presence every moment of every day, if she tries hard enough. Chloë didn’t understand at the time, but like me, the father clearly believed that there are forces out there beyond the visible. Those we’ve lost, guiding our steps as we go along. Or karma maybe?

 

Interesting concept by the way; “Karma”. Those that do good things, will have good things happen to them. Do bad things, and they will come to haunt you. A thought rushed through my mind.. What must I have done before this room, to have deserved this much karma?

 

There were also bad days.. See, while looking through the mirrors, you don’t always see the shiny days. Chloë became very ill one day. Her friends didn’t visit and she felt alone. Of course her father was with her 24/7, but at some point, children grow up to have a life beyond just their family. A life, she thought she had, but the moment she got deathly ill and needed those friends, they were nowhere to be found. Of course I was there.. Watching.. Screaming.. Crying.. Praying.. But that changed nothing. The mirrors were no longer showing me my dreams and desires.. They were turning those into my biggest fears and nightmares. To watch my daughter, my biggest dream and achievement, die before my very eyes.. First mentally, then physically.

 

This has to be some kind of punishment? Torture maybe? I imagined having committed genocide or ordered the deaths of millions of people.. Had I maybe done horrible, unspeakably evil things prior to this? Whatever could the reason have been for this hell?

 

As I was about to be consumed by these thoughts, a small part of the mirror slid upwards, revealing bread, cheese, milk and a small blue pill. The pill was new.. Never had that one before. I figured it couldn’t get much worse, so whoever was on the other side of this room, had to have reasons. I took the pill along with the food and consumed both in a matter of seconds. Dry bread too.. Couldn’t even get a fresh piece.

 

Next thing I knew, I woke up in the same room, but the mirrors weren’t working. All was quiet, completely dark. Couldn’t see my own hands before my eyes. No noise either. For a moment I thought my life had come to an end and this was the afterlife. No such luck though I’m afraid. The mirrors jumped back on, showing me the final results of my dreams. Chloë, the girl who I had dreamt up as my own daughter, passed away before my very eyes and her father’s for that matter. His life went further downhill from there. I still imagined that he was me.. That was probably not far from the truth either, as I think the mirrors really did show me what it would’ve been like for me, if I’d have been a father. He lost his job, didn’t have friends to visit him, colleagues didn’t care. Family didn’t see his pain either, nor bothered to. Life moved on, while he did not. Funny.. That’s exactly what was happening to me. My life stood still, while I was watching life around me unfold through these very mirrors.

 

As I watched him through the mirror, reaching breaking point, snapping.. I felt an uncontrollable urge inside me as well. In the end, not but a few moments from snapping, he ended his own life and with it, his pain. Chloë’s memory lived on through me only. I myself had given up until I realised this. I may not have been her father personally.. But it was now up to me to carry her memory. It sparked in me some life, I had not felt before. I had a reason to live.

 

I hear sounds coming from the other side of my room.. A mirror slides upwards, revealing a door. Standing on the other side, 2 males, 1 woman. Older.. Scientific looking, lab coat cliché and all. A gun points at me and next thing I remember is waking up strapped to a chair, unable to move. “Our sincerest apologies for the restrains, sir. What do you remember?” The female scientist asked interested. “The room, the mirrors, Chloë..” Simple answer.. I know, but I wasn’t in a position to play games. I notice the male scientists on the opposite side of the room, taking notes, but remaining awfully quiet and looking very serious.. Dangerously so in fact. I felt Ill at ease. “Tell us, Dexter, was it? What have you learned from the mirrors? What wisdom has it given you?” “Wisdom? Learned? I haven’t a clue what it is you want to hear, but those mirrors show only death and decay. You don’t learn from death and decay. Those mirrors have taken from me, all of my dreams and desires, my very life and soul. In fact, the only thing I hold on to, is the memory of a daughter I never even had.” The female scientist looks rather shocked and disturbed.. The men seemed unmoved by my words. After what seemed like hours, but were in fact, probably merely minutes.. She spoke again: “Sir.. Do you remember anything from your life, before the mirrors? Anything at all?” “No. Can’t even Saw whether my name is really Dexter.” Sadly, it’s actually the truth too.. I was cautious with my answers though, not knowing what was happening in the slightest.

 

"Your real name.. Insignificant now.. Dexter is what we will use. As for why you are here. You volunteered. These mirrors show many things, you’ve already discovered that. But they didn’t just show you your dreams and desired Dexter.. Nor did they show you only your biggest fears and nightmares. These mirrors also have the power to show you reality. Plain and simple, truthful, reality. You mentioned remembering the room, the mirrors and Chloë? Would she happen to be the daughter of a single father, a teacher, who died of illness, way before her time? The father falling into decay afterward? This wasn’t a nightmare. The mirrors were showing you your past. Chloë was your daughter. That father? That was you. Shortly after her death, you attempted to end your life. We found you and managed to save you, and placed you with us in a psychiatry ward. There, we told you about the mirrors and you volunteered to be the first to experience their effects. We believe that these mirrors are capable of showing you the way to a better life. Show you what you have to live for, to fight for, when reality has taken it all away.”

 

So that’s what it was.. Therapy? I was supposed to find a reason to live? I suppose I did find a reason to live.. Chloë.. Who turned out to really be my own daughter. She needed to be remembered, to live on in me.

 

“What do you want to do now, sir?” I asked them for an empty book, a pen and drawing materials. In the book I wrote about her. Her thoughts, her adventures, her life. Everything as the mirrors had shown me. Sometimes I even went back into the room, begging the mirrors to show me our life, but they never worked for me again. At the last pages of the book, I drew a portrait of her, her face from the very moment she asked her father.. Me.. about the future. In that moment her face reflected all the hopes and dreams she had for life. The page after, I drew her face, after she heard of her fate. When all her dreams and hopes had left her and her soul got trapped behind mirrors of their own.

 

On the last page I wrote:

 

“For dreams are a double-edged sword, they give us the strength to move forward, but take our very lifeforce away every moment they are not achieved. Our lifeforce is not limitless and if you do not reach your dreams, your nightmares will surely find you instead.”

 

“How do you feel, now that your book is finished?” It had been months since being strapped to the chair and enlightened. The female scientist, who I had come to know as Eliza, was still immensely taken with me and always concerned. How I feel? Let’s see.. I once had a life, others only dream of. That life was taken from me. I then got placed inside a room, where mirrors showed me my life, dreams and hopes and.. Chloë… I feel.. at ease, knowing she will never fade from this world again, now that she’s in this book. I have fulfilled my job as a father and a human being and I am at peace.

 

I remember leaving the building several days later.. I’d been given a clean bill of health and allowed back into society, they had even procured a job for me at a local elementary school. 7^th grade. Felt empty to me. I hadn’t been completely honest with Eliza, you see.. There was still one more thing I had to do, before I had completed my job as father. I needed to make sure the entire world knew Chloë’s story. Simply writing a book, doesn’t make the world aware. So, I did what I did. I went into the heart of our city, shouted her name for hours, until I had enough spectators and the press as well as officials watching. I tossed my book into the hands of Eliza, who I knew would eventually show up and jumped peacefully toward that black and empty space, to see my Chloë again. Can’t say whether the book truly ended up in public hands, but I trusted Eliza. The mirrors had indeed shown me the way.                                          ©Raifiku

Reviews

[no tell writer]

Wow! A lot of imagery and detail in your story, nicely written