Mirrors

Angel

Chapter Nineteen:

Angel

“Irene. Irene. Wake up. Irene . . .”

What was that?

“Wake up.”

Who was that?

“Irene.”

I bolted up, waking from my sleep. For a second, I had completely forgotten where I was. Bodies floated around me; their white, glassy eyes stared at me. They were skin and bones, almost skeletal. Many of them were asleep; the rest were groaning in hopeless concern over their demise. I accidentally bumped into a body right next to me. It’s face was stiff, frozen in a scream. It’s teeth were rotten, covered by cavities and slime. Its eyes were white; not a single color in sight. I pulled away from it as I gagged and trembled.

“Irene,” the voice called out again. It was a gentle voice, probably from a young mother. A glowing hand appeared right before my eyes, holding its palm out, waiting for me to grab a hold. I couldn’t deny this gesture; my hand wrapped around it. I was pulled away from the bodies. There, it gave me enough elbow room to stretch. The current swirled around me; this was a sphere of open space.

In front of me was a glowing, golden illumination, surrounding a tall woman in a long, flowing white dress. Her blonde hair swirled around her face. Her hand touched mine; it was so soft. There was no sign of flaws on her, as if she lived a perfect life without scars to ruin each moment. How I wanted the same.

I couldn’t help but gawk at her. It might have been rude at the moment, but it was all my body could do. I carefully caressed her hand, fearing that I might break it in a single swoop or tug. She was an angel without wings. What was she doing here? What right did I have to be at her presence? What made her deliberately talk to me as if I had the right to have her attention? I gulped in anticipation.

“Who are you?” I managed to say, still gawking at the angelic queen in front of me.

“Who am I?” the woman said. “We’re not talking about me, Irene. We’re talking about you.”

“Me?” I mumbled, surprised.

The woman nodded her head. She pulled me in with the hand that she held me with. This woman was a giant, almost as big as a one-story house. But when I got closer to her, she adjusted her height and she became as tall as I was. We gazed at each other eye-to-eye. I couldn’t stop looking at her opaque, light blue eyes. She stared at me with such intensity, petrifying me in place.

“Tell me, Irene,” the woman began, “do you see anyone else trying to escape.”

I shook my head.

“Exactly,” she smiled. “You’re one of the only ones that are attempting to escape. Which is why I’m here.”

“I’m here to tell you how to get out of here,” she added.

“How?” I asked. “How do I get out of here? Where am I going? Am I going back to that ocean? Is that it?”

The woman shook her head in response. “You’re leaving it all behind. But there’s a catch.”

“What is it?”

“You have to experience pain again,” the woman answered regrettably. “You didn’t finish the memories those mirrors were trying to show. You didn’t let them finish, which is why you were brought here in the first place.”

“But I don’t want to go through that again,” I protested, feeling the rage grow inside me once again. That anger—how sweet it felt.

“Nobody does, but—”

“But what?”

The woman sighed again, looking away to avoid my bloodshot eyes. “Look: the longer you stay here in this world, the weaker you get.” She pointed to the bodies that floated around us. “If you stayed long enough, you’d be too weak to deliberate important decisions. You wouldn’t find the peace you deserve, the peace that would lead you out of here.”

“You’d become one of these lifeless bodies,” she added. “All I could ever do is to make you disappear out of this realm. You’d never exist again.”

“What happens if I do get out of here?” I challenged. “What happens then? Where will I go?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the answer to that question.”

I gave a mocking laugh. “You don’t have the answer?” I spat. “I thought you were some type of goddess or some shit.”

“I am merely a guardian of every lost soul,” she answered with nonchalance. Her grace made me regret treating her with such bitterness. But I pushed on.

“A guardian?” I snickered with obvious sarcasm. “It looks like you’re not doing your job.”

“I’m a guardian, not someone who saves every soul,” she said, raising her voice to make a point. “I give everyone the same warning. It’s their choice whether or not to follow it. As you may see, many had shrugged my words off of their shoulder.”

“Now, Irene,” she added, calming her nerves and giving all of her patience to me. “Are you going to follow my advice or not?”

I looked around, observing the demented bodies of the poor souls. They could have led a better afterlife only if they followed this woman’s warning. What fools. But I couldn’t blame them. All of us had to face our past; some were darker than others. But when it came down to it, the bravest men fall to their own demons—the monsters that followed them all their lives.

“I’m getting out of here."