Mirrors

In Repair

Chapter Twenty-Four:

In Repair

Little Irene led me back to the meadow. We went ahead a year after the last scene. A year later—that meant that my family and I were getting ready to move. Eleven-year-old Irene sat in the middle of the meadow, stroking a stray cat’s fur. She sat cross-legged, smiling at the cat.

Eight-year-old Irene sat next to her. She sat, hugging her knees to her chest. She  gazed at the cat lovingly. She began to hum a song to herself; it was barely audible.

“So you never answered my question, Irene,” she told me, solemnly looking me in the eyes.

I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “What do you mean?”

“Why weren’t you happy?”

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Well,” I shrugged, “moving away to a place where no one knows you breaks you.”

“But you got away,” little Irene protested. “You got away from those people who hurt you at school, from Christina and from—” she paused, looking away. “You got away from Shane.”

“You have everything. What else do you want?” she added.

The anger began to boil inside again. What does she know? She was eight. None of what happened to me hadn’t happened to her yet. Or she did know; she wanted to bring something delicate up so I would have the chance to actually think about what I felt.

“I wanted my childhood back. I wanted to be you again—the little girl that I used to be,” I answered as honest as I could.

“My innocence was taken away from me,” I continued. “I just wanted my childhood back.”

“But you and I are two different people! Yes, I am you. Yes, you are me,” little Irene broke in. “But you changed into someone else. Why can’t you accept that?”

“Because—”

From out of the blue, a boy ran up to eleven-year-old Irene. He hugged her around the neck, kissing her on the cheek. His boyish smile caught little Irene off guard. Golden locks covered part of his cheeks; a certain mole began to grow by his lips. The fragile structure he used to carry around began to be covered by some fat and muscles. From head to toe, muscles began to appear in places it never appeared before. About eight inches or so—that was how much taller he had gotten ever since he moved away to his grandparents’ house. He remained in the same school with me until second grade ended. Then, he had to move away and attend a different school.

Eleven-year-old Irene expressed her confusion with a raise of a brow; her lips pursed into an amazed smile. Colton grabbed her hand and held it with a taut but gentle grip. He whispered, “Hello,” under his breath. “Remember me?”

“Colton?” little Irene muttered. Her eyes grew wide; her mouth gaped in awe. “Colton? Is that you?” she continued on, feeling more excited as she finally realized who it was.

Colton grinned, viciously moving his head up and down. “Yeah. It’s me.”

Little Irene lunged herself towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She tumbled forward; her head fell on Colton’s chest. The stray cat didn’t like it, so it screeched in contempt towards Colton. Then it trotted away with such dignity for a cat that had its attention stolen away from it.

“I missed you so much!” little Irene screeched, embracing Colton tighter and tighter. Colton grunted, gasping for air.

“I need to—breath,” he winced.

Little Irene let go, saying sorry in a soft, innocent voice.

“No need to say sorry,” Colton reassured. “Just don’t kill me next time.”

“What are you doing here? Visiting?”

Colton nodded. “Yeah. I kind of missed the place, you know?”

“But you didn’t missed me?” little Irene teased.

“I missed you more than the place!” he chuckled. “Now I have the chance to actually tell you that I had a crush on you for the longest time.”

Little Irene’s eyes grew even wider. Her grin grew bigger, reaching from ear to ear. “I liked you, too,” she bashfully confessed.

Colton sighed. “Phew! I thought for a second there, you were going to reject me.”

“What?” little Irene giggled. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” Colton shrugged. “Because I’m too crazy for you.”

“You’re not crazy at all!”

Colton shook his head. “We really need to catch up.” With that, he stood up, holding out a hand to little Irene to help her on her feet. Little Irene grabbed his hand and stood up with him. They went for a walk along boundaries between the meadow and the woods. Talking about the past two years they spent apart. It had been a long time, but they chatted as if they never left each other’s side.

Something began to bother Colton. He began to bite his lips; blushing uncontrollably. He began to choke, trying to get words out of his mouth. But he stopped himself when he saw little Irene smiling at him. He couldn’t say a word. So instead, he reached out to her and pulled her in. A simple kiss was all it took to break my heart, watching the two. Sweet puppy love; I missed it so much.

After that, I started to walk away with a content smile on my face. With eight-year-old Irene by my side, we walked back toward the middle of the meadow. When I thought I was in the center of the lot, I laid myself down on the grass. The blades held close together, giving enough cushion to act like a soft bed. I pulled my hands below my head, making them pillows. There, the sun shone on me. The clouds rolled through the wind, making various shapes in the sky. The wind whistled a soft lullaby as the trees danced along to its tune. It was a peaceful place; I never wanted to leave.

“I wasn’t happy because I hated the person I became. Although that part of me faded away, she remains the stain in my life,” I began, startling little Irene who laid herself down beside me.

“And?”

“And now I understand that even with the little amount of time that I had, I had a fair life,” I continued. “That even with everything that happened, there’s always a better tomorrow. That I don’t have to worry about trying to be the little Irene that I was. That whoever I became was the best that I could be. There’s no need to miss little Irene—she will always be a part of me.”

“Are you happy now?” little Irene whispered in a meek voice.

I nodded. “I’m happy.”

“But you’re still missing something,” little Irene said. “I wanted you happy enough to face something.”

“And what is that?”

“I wanted to prepare you for the monster.”

The monster―as soon as I heard about it, I already knew who it was. It was a waste of space, who didn’t deserve to live. From head to toe, repulsiveness seeped through. A paranoid freak who hadn’t had the chance to face the world when the world turned its back. It was misunderstood, hated and insecure. It was all that I hated—a creature better left untouched.

The sun disappeared. Little Irene sat cross-legged, staring at me with aloof eyes. The scene around us began to blur, turning dimmer as if the sun started to slowly burn out. Little Irene floated up into the air. She mouthed something under her breath, though I didn’t catch what she said. She closed her eyes as her whole body began to transform. Her extremities began to grow out. Her body began to mature. The innocence melted away. She grew up, looking more mature in under a second. She looked tired, hating everything she laid eyes on. A few pounds hung out her stomach; her slender figure was gone. Cutting marks began to appear on her arms. Her hair was that of a rat’s—uncombed and unkempt.

She became the monster: the thirteen-year-old me—Valerie.