Reflections

Some called them demons, devils, aliens. Others, monsters. Like most things, their beginnings were uncertain; some said they had escaped from a laboratory, others an attack from the Russian government for military secrets. One thing remained certain, these beings were not human, and they could not be fought by humanity. When they first appeared, the world did what it did best, descended into chaos- our natural state. Bombs dropped. Guns fired. The earth was flattened and dented by the cuts we deemed appropriate to eradicate the things that floated before us; I always saw them as reflections. Reflections of us, of the tainted souls that hid among the people divided.

They swam with colour, pulsating beats of light dripped through their bodies. To most, one could liken them to a jellyfish; without distinguishable features or limbs, they moved without sound or call. Holding no certain patterns, some moved in solitude while others stole the air without an inch of space between them. They remained impossibly beautiful like the painting of memory, but they would steal far worse from you if you got too close. These reflections fed on memories; sucking a person dry, a human being wouldn't die from the encounter. Still, they might as well have, roaming the earth without memory in a body they no longer knew how to use turned a person into a walking graveyard. Losing all sense of time and thought, they would descend into an unravelling madness, missing the key to call for help.

And now this, I thought, my mother had been touched by one- briefly for less than a second, but it was enough to draw back the curtain of madness in her mind. Holding her hand in my own, I laid a silent prayer by her bed- hoping it would keep her warm while I travelled outward, further than anyone had dared in years.

'Are you sure about this?' My best friend, a young boy no older than fourteen, asked. After the attack, he lost his whole family to the reflections; I found him alone in a storm drain, having escaped the clutches of the apparitions. When I asked for his name, he had paused, taking the one and only opportunity to rename himself. 'Never, my name is Never.' He had answered.

'This is the only way I know how. The only thing I can think of to get her back.'

Never was stoic for his age, like a man of fifty lived beneath his skin. His actions mirrored the habits of adults; composure and measure rained from his lips and hands. 'Then we will go together.'

There was no use in fighting Never on anything; his certainty could be nauseating at times, but on others, it had saved our lives, so I knew better than to argue with reason. 'It might take a few hours, but I know the shortcuts.'

Never looked over at my mother, seeing her in every way as his own. 'She is worth the risk.'

We would head out at first light; the reflections with their trapped memories were easier to see during the daytime. The danger in walking among them could be over in less than a minute, but there were still ways you could travel around them without being detected. The reflections fed off memory and thought in order to evade their control; your mind needed to be empty. Emptier than a cup and just as transparent. After years of meditation and breathing exercises, Never and I had honed the skill down to a finite art- testing our abilities daily, we would walk a little further every day. Careful to return home if one set its power upon us. Our record stood at a mere twenty minutes, but this would surely be a suicide mission. One I was willing to take if it meant getting my mother back, love could make you do stupid things, but it was only love that gave you the strength to dare. Without the love we shared for one another, we would have perished a long time ago.

The world had crumbled, fallen in on itself. A broken memory of what once was could never be again. But memory itself, the word of it, the feeling of it thrived under the most inhabitable circumstances. Where there was life, there was the chance to go on. Memories were like currency you slotted into the machine of time. Staying in them could cost you, but by God, wasn't it worth it? To live among the kaleidoscope of light, sound, and taste that only memory could sing?

Standing on the threshold of our bunker, I drew in a deep breath, as deep as my body, releasing it from my lungs, I began the process of tearing back my layers. Never stood beside me, already descending into himself. Layer after layer, like strands of light, I reduced myself to nothing more than a speck in the universe. No longer a person. No longer a daughter. No longer a name. I was nothing when I stepped out into the new world.

One could see the world without thinking about it, observe but disregard all thought of your place among the surroundings that knocked against the mind. I was aware of Never by my side as much as I was also aware that Never was not by my side; the paradoxes of deep meditation could be confronting, but in order to get to a place of desolation, fear could not breathe its air.

Human beings roamed amongst the reflections; some stood vacantly like they were waiting for an unspoken word to call them home. Others watched the things that had stolen from them, peering into their transparent skin that projected images outward- snippets of lives that weren't their own.

The reflections operated in a similar fashion to one another; they each projected a memory that fed them the most; for some, it was the birth of a new child, others the last words they said to their loved ones. Walking amongst them was like being trapped in a mirage of thought- like being in a museum of forgotten things, stealing life if you got too close. Terrible things are usually filled with beauty, and the reflections were no different, dodging a projection of a man blowing out a plume of smoke, I could see the building up ahead, further than halfway Never remained as composed as ever, not once daring to shift his gaze from the obstacle ahead, getting mother what she needed to come back to us.

The lost souls that once held names, jobs, and children tangled amongst the reflections- some clothed, some not, some walked, some sat. The reflections held them in a never-ending carousel of consciousness. They paid no attention to our travels but moving around their infant-like wanderings was becoming tiresome.

The building was close now, close enough that for a second, a creep of relief sunk into my mind and revealed me to the reflections as quick as a change in wind one appeared before me, trapping my path. So, this is what it comes down to, I thought. A boy called Never and a girl trying to save a life. When it came down to it, all the will within you amounted to so much more than you ever thought. At least, that's what I thought of as the reflection wrapped itself around me, thin needles like ice tore through, scooping handfuls of images from my mind—sifting and weighing. Counting and ticking, trying to find its one meal to take.

My mind was all I had left, all we really had in the fight against reality. Flashes appeared before me, a flock of birds, a bubble of soap fizzing on a kitchen counter, a stranger singing in broken lyrics, the bleed of the sun into a new dawn, my mother counting my fingertips on her own. My brother. My brother and his redden cheeks chasing after me, the curls of sunlight upon his head bouncing as he ran. This was what they wanted, the only memory I had left of him. The reflection began to pull, trapping me under a blanket of darkness. It pulled the memory from me- like a tug of war, I pulled back. With every ounce of will in my bones, I pulled until finally, the needles of ice retracted back into space. Light swam against my vision; without further try, the reflection moved from us like it had called me by a stranger's name and made a mistake.

Never stood beside me, focused on keeping his calm, I returned back into myself, slowing my laboured breathing. With patience and care, we reached the building. Never went first; most buildings, if small enough, were safe from projections. They liked space and a lot of it. Signalling me inside, he closed his eyes, drawing himself back into his mind and body.

'How did you do that?' He asked, a smile of wonder struck his small face.

'I kept what was mine. I fought it with everything I had.'

Never nodded, no doubt already formulating exercises we could try to battle the reflections. We made quick work of finding what we needed; the store had been mostly untouched- there was little necessity in a jewellery store, but for us, it might just be the antidote we required.

'Is this it?' Never held up a gold chain, the cut out of a heart shaped locket swung on its end.

'Yes, that's it.'

Intent on getting back to mother, we had to be as careful as possible, dodging the reflections; we made it back to the bunker with ease, turning to me Never's guard had dropped, excitement in his eyes at having succeeded. I watched in horror as a reflection came straight for him, attaching itself to his body Never yelled for me to go. Shutting the bunker door behind me, a wrack of sobs overtook my defeated body. Struggling to stand, I came to my mother's side. The same faraway look we had left her with laid like a mirror over her face.

'Here.' Taking her hand in my own, I placed the necklace in her palm. 'Remember this; we got it for you on Mother's Day; me and Hunter got it for you. One just like it. You lost it years ago, but the same shop is still there. Please.' Closing her hand over the necklace, tears blurred my vision.

Her eyes remained without soul or thought. Leaning my head on her stomach, I closed my eyes to the defeat this new world had grown; then, like a hope in the dark, her hand reached for mine.

'Adira? Is that you? Where was I?'

'Yes, mother, it's me. You were gone, but now you're back.'

The act of remembering was a feat in itself, like finding something you thought lost in the corner of a cupboard drawer, and all at once, it comes back to you, in no order at all. What the object meant to you, its place in the world, and you are transported through time to another place. To a place of memory. My mother had found her way back and Never would too.

While she slept, I thought only of him, whispering promises into the night. 'I will find him. I will bring him home. I will find him. I will bring him home.'