Reflection
By Janine Mills
 
Continued From Page 1:

Toys surround my child's body.  Hundreds of them litter the floor.  I am bored.  The door opens and he is there.  He looks angry.  I run to him.  He sweeps me up and plants a kiss on my forehead.  i giggle with pleasure.  he makes me clean away the toys.  He places me in the bed and tucks me in.   He reads to me a bedtime story and says goodnight.  The door closes softly behind him.  His presence lingers long after he is gone.
 

*
 

Death looms before me.  I know no pain, no fear.  Eternal peace awaits me.  He comes to me.  I have but one wish of him.  Show his mother at least some respect.  He kisses my cheek and smiles.  The smile does not touch his eyes.  I knew he was no man.  He is happy I am dying.  I know my request will go unheeded.  I only hope my granddaughter will not become like her father,  a monster in every way.  I turn to embrace the only one I can.  Death meets me eagerly.
 
*
 

I walk into the operating room.  Blood is everywhere.  I commence the operation.  The transplant goes well.  His body accepts the new heart.  New blood pumps through old veins.  He opens his eyes.  I look into them.  His thoughts are shielded.  I have a strange feeling that I should have let him die.
 

*
 
We are in some kind of tomb, exploring.  He does not recognize my presence.  We pass an old dusty mirror hanging on the wall.  Only one man reflects.  I stare at the mirror in front of me and see no reflection.  It frightens me.  I tear my gaze from the mirror and notice he is gone.  I search for him.  Fear, or anxiety creeps in.  I find him at last.  He is in danger. The ceiling is crumbling.  I shout a warning.  He does not hear.  The ceiling falls.  He is trapped beneath the heavy rock.  Blood drips from a wound in his head.  It falls in his eyes.  i bend over him.  I can not help him.  He blinks away the red and stares at me in confusion.  He sees me.  Recognition comes back with memory.  I scream and run from him.  Blackness falls...
 

*  *  *
 
I awaken.  I recognize the face now.  I know now who I was.  I know now what I was.  I know not who or what I will become.  The face is going.  i can feel it slipping from my thoughts and can not prevent it.  I do not try to keep it. I welcome its going.  It fades from thought, leaving me finally in peace.  I await my sentence.
 
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Originally Posted October 17, 2001. Reposted on February 3, 2005.
Copyright 2005, 2001 by the Labyrinth and the United States Naval Academy, http://www.usna.edu. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction or duplication is strictly prohibited. The views expressed on this site are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of the US Naval Academy, the Department of Defense, or the US Government.