Petals on The Mirror of Yesterday

I steeled my resolve, clenched my fist and held it close to my chest, as if any action I did was going to prepare me for whatever lay beyond this door. A sturdy door with its wood covered in the hue of shadows. It stood tall over me, with the only thing that stood out being the striking gold handle that hung off the door.

I grabbed the handle and held my breath…

The door creaked open, with more and more of the room coming into view. There was a huge round podium with stairs on all sides, with only a mirror standing firm and tall. The mirror didn’t seem to be grand, and yet it held my gaze almost as if it was staring back.

“This mirror, it’s something special…” the priest says, his voice seemed to fluctuate from firm to worried, and a hint of sadness could be seen from the smile that was plastered on his face.

“This mirror allows one to take on three trials. Each one centres around helping the person come to terms and fully accept not just who you are, but who you were and who you may become.” The priest continues, but with each word he speaks, I can see that it affects him more and more.

I turn to him, with a look in my eyes that seems to trigger something.

“Is this something that I need to worry about?” I ask, my fist seems to clench at the sound of my question rippling through the atmosphere.

His face seemed to be becoming stiffer as he forced the words out of his mouth.

“Only if you have something to fear”, these words seemed to carry no weight as they floated through the air.

I turned to look at the mirror that stood at the centre of the room, its dark corners seemed to pierce through the atmosphere, all while its reflective centre duplicated all that could be seen.

“All you have to do is touch the centre of the mirror and the trials will begin, " the priest said. He seemed to look away from the mirror as if trying to avoid something.

Did something happen? I wondered, but I chose not to pry into the priest's background.

I nodded at the Priest, and he seemed to get the memo that I was going to attempt these trials.

What they were.

What waited for me?

It was all yet to be discovered, and the words that the priest said played in my mind

“Only if you have something to fear”

What would it pick? Many people have fears, death, fire, falling, and heights, so what could this single fear be that plagues everyone?

I guess I’ll just have to find out

I stepped up towards the mirror with my hand outstretched…inches away from the mirror and what was to come. My other hand lay on my chess, tight, clutching, grasping for something.

My hand sent ripples through the reflective centre, with the rest of my body following. The world began to change.

The sound of waves washing up against the shore, the feeling of sand in the air, the cold breeze reminding me that I’m here. Crimson petals began to fall from all around me, reflected upon the water's surface like a pool of blood; each one appeared as if it were on some journey. The water stretched out for as far as my eye could see, and on the other side, the sand stretched far and wide.

I may have been somewhere, but where my feet lay on the ground, it felt like I couldn’t go anywhere else. Captivated by the hum of the waves and the feel of the sand, watching as the petals danced their short performances before touching the ground.

I reached out my hand to catch a petal, as I felt the petal float into my hand, something appeared.

A scene began to play, almost as if the light was being projected directly into my eyes.

What it was, I could only hope to work out.

The greyed-out play showed a young boy helping a wide range of people out, first a mother, then a friend, then another. Each one presented a different problem, which the boy helped them solve. The boy smiled and continued with his day. While his smile was bright, his eyes looked shallow, hollow even.

The grey play continued to follow this young boy, now a little bit older, at college, taking a class for something that doesn’t quite seem to catch his interest. Looking out the window at the sky. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted something, but what it was that he wanted was something yet to be found.

The play only continued to play, with each scene presenting more and more problems, first a scene with paper scattered everywhere, each one with words scribbled on it like lost pieces of thoughts…Relics of things left unexplored. The next scene showcased a clothing shop window, and the boy looked at the item that many would say was not fit for him, but he bought it regardless. The look in his eyes that day showed hope that maybe, just maybe, he had found something.

The play cuts to him on the floor, the clothing item in another person's hands while they're shouting at him. The words that were spoken that day can’t be heard anymore, but the pain, the sorrow, the torment and lastly the trust that lay in pieces on the floor, were all that remained.

As I’m watching all of this unfold, I can only feel my eyes begin to twitch, my grip begin to tighten, and my hands begin to sweat. Why I reacted this way, I guess only time would tell.

The next part of the play showcases the boy looking at what remained of the little hope he had in one hand, and in the other, a knife. The play became blurry, and only rough movements could be made out, but you could tell what was happening.

“W…w..what are you doing?” I said behind the tears that glazed my eyes.

The next time we see him, he’s standing on a bridge looking over the edge, hand gripped tightly on his arm, confirming what we believed would happen.

“N…no…” I whimpered, wondering if there was anything I could say to reduce the pain.

“Y…you still have a chance!” I shivered, reaching out my hand as if I could do anything about the boy's life.

Was the boy, as he fell from the bridge, never saved, never to be seen again?

“THERE WAS STILL HOPE”, I screamed, collapsing onto my knees that were now covered in sand. My hands covered my face as my tears flooded through the gaps between my fingers. I tried to piece together what little words I could.

“Y..you still had a chance.”

“Why did you fall?”

“There WAS STILL HOPE”

The words, obviously, had no effect on the outcome of what I just watched. Then suddenly, something began to come back to me.

The waves that were calm were now lapping at my feet, pulling me in with each wave.

“W…wait”, I shuddered as things I had no recollection of began to come back to me…

“That…was all me…”