Mirrors

I Need You

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

I Need You

The world went black, turning as silent as space. The vacuum sealed light and sound, preventing them from travelling through air. Nothing moved; nothing breathed. It was just me and my non-existent body. My coherence was sent to a different place. Was I asleep?

It seemed like I stayed there for an eternity. I waited for something to happen, something to set me free. This world made me as still as a mountain; it held me down with its chains.

I saw a light. Could it be? Could this be my salvation? My eyes squinted away; it was too bright. Voices began to utter, mumbling around me. Silhouettes  partially covered the brilliance ahead of me, giving me enough time to glance over at their shadows. There was no telling them apart. I was under the spotlight—an experiment ready to be examined by persons I have never met. Their faces were obscured. I couldn’t tell them apart.

Their voices sang out in unison, as if they were all in this grand scheme. The volume increased in a steady increase. Soon, they were screaming in a horrific tone. Their agony rang in my ears, letting me know that I couldn’t escape their wrath. My head throbbed, but I couldn’t lift my hands to cover my ears.  Thier voices intermingled, becoming a sonic boom. It felt like I was standing in the middle of a runway where airplanes get ready for take off. I couldn’t handle it.

“Irene! Dad! Dad! Irene’s right here!”

“Where?”

“In this ditch!”

“All right. Boys: follow Quinn.”

“Irene!”

“Are you all right?”

“Come on. Talk to me, honey!”

“Daddy, she’s awake.”

I was pulled out of that world, back to the memory. Valerie laid at the bottom of the ditch, half awake. Her eyes were diluted. She had a dazed expression, like she was barely there. She looked malnourished and  beaten. She had been unconscious for two days. Five men hoisted her out of the ditch; they were part of the search party. They carried her out to Highway 101. I followed them, realizing how close the road to salvation was. It was only a few yards away from where Valerie fell.

Valerie was going back to unconsciousness. I began to slip back into sleep. My eyes got heavier; my vision blurred. With every step I took, my body began to feel like lead. With each passing time, I felt heavier and heavier. Both my knees began to buckle, getting weaker. I tumbled to the ground, falling on my knees to my face. I blacked out again.

I was in that cold, dark world again. Slipping in and out of coherence made me come back here. The world was empty again. There was nothing with me. A lonely feeling took a hold of me. I had been over being afraid of the dark, but this place made my skin crawl. No matter how much oddity this world portrayed, I couldn’t help but feel an itch of familiarity. Right then, dejá vù took a hold of me. Have I been here before? I thought to myself.

That’s when I realized that I had dreamt of this world before—when I was still alive.

I woke up in the middle of a hospital room. It was small and quiet. A tall window stood over on the far side of the room, closed by blinds. The cold stagnant air made me quiver. Valerie laid on the hospital bed. Dad sat on a chair right next to her. In a matter of days, he had grown years older. Bags formed beneath his eyes. Wrinkles began to show. His ragged hair was a mop. The expression on his face made me quiver harder. He was worried, though he watched Valerie sleep with such tender eyes.

He began to stroke Valerie’s hair, fixing it out of her face. He swooped her hand, placing it closer to his cheek. One single kiss on the palm, and tears started to roll out of my eyes.

“You know, Val?” he began, talking as casually as he could. “The first time I met your mom, I immediately thought, ‘Valerie.’”

“I don’t know why,” he added, after a short pause. “It just suddenly came to me. She, of course, wanted a different name for you. She loved Greek Mythology and all that crap. So she chose Irene, who’s apparently the goddess of peace. Quite frankly, I thought that name best suited you. You were always so peaceful.

“I remember when you were a baby, your mom had to check on you every hour just to make sure you were still asleep. See, you never cried when you wake up. All you did was lay there, waiting for someone to pick you up. I gotta say: you were the easiest baby out of the three.

“I know that Mom and I hadn’t been telling you and your sisters everything. She left for . . . her reasons. She needs her space and I understand that now.

“Valerie; just don’t leave me. With your mom gone, I need you more than ever. Stay here with me. Don't go. I need you.”