Corpse in the Mirror [SAMPLE]

Chapter 1 - Brighter Days

        I’d never seen anything like it.

        The water was a bright cloudless sky, and the sky was an endless blue sea. The sand beneath my feet was warm and powder-like, inviting me to take off my sandals and just lose myself in them.

        And the air—oh, the magnificent air!—was light and breezy and warm, everything that summer was supposed to be.

        My mom used to tell me of how she met dad while he was on spring break in Ocean City, New Jersey. And he’d laughed when she scoffed at how Ocean City wasn’t a “real beach,” because real beaches were what she had back in the Philippines.

        I don’t think Dad ever really believed her, and I had no idea what she meant.

        Until now.

        This... this was a real beach.

        “Helmet diving?” a man said as I walked by. “Jet skiing?” offered another man. They were holding up laminated cards with pictures of people having fun doing the things they were inviting me to do. There were many of these men on the island—tour and adventure guides of sorts—whose mission was to help visitors make the most of their Boracay vacations (and earn extra income out of it, of course).

        I smiled at them and shook my head as I walked by. Dad and Mom and I had had our fill of swimming, skiing, boating, sailing, and diving in our first 3 days on the island. Now I just wanted to soak up the sun and be alone with my thoughts... and just flow with and let go of everyone else’s.

        This was a technique I’d been practicing all year with Father Nimoy, this conscious choice to accept and let go of the thoughts I still heard from other people’s heads, and not involve myself in them personally.

        A few months ago, I’d never have agreed to go with my parents to such a crowded place as Boracay, where it seemed like 10% of every country’s population decided to drop by and stay each summer. I knew the headache it would’ve given me, having all of those invading thoughts crowding my mind all at the same time, in probably every living language in the world.

        It didn’t help either that my Dad wanted so much to be a better father to me that he seemed to be overcompensating: I knew that one of the reasons he insisted on this trip was that he wanted me to “socialize.” He reasoned that since he and mom had first met on a beach a long time ago, maybe something similar might just happen with me. At the very least, I think he hoped I’d find someone to hang out with who had nothing to do with school.

        Of course I couldn’t tell my dad that, for all his good intentions, it didn’t change the fact that most everyone else’s intentions weren’t.

        Good, that is.

        It was just so hard to be friendly when every time I encountered a decent-looking guy my age on this beach, the very first thoughts I’d hear in his head would be, “Mmmm, nice rack,” or “I’d give her a rating of 7,” or “I wonder what she looks like naked?”

        Anyway, I didn’t really need to socialize to enjoy Boracay. Just feeling the energy of this lovely beach while experiencing success with “breathing in each thought, and breathing it out” was actually enough for me.

        I especially loved it that there were even uninterrupted hours when I could pretty much walk down this whole white stretch of beach all I wanted, and not even be bothered by the people walking all around me.

        “Sam!”

        I paused for a moment, wondering if it was a thought or a voice, and whether or not it was even addressing me.