Mirror

Useless

"Dead," Tazmia mumbled to herself in her mostly empty house for maybe the hundredth time. I felt her frustration, but this time, rather than feeling the isolated emotion, I also knew its source. We were immobile and powerless. In one fell swoop, not only had the mobility we treasured so dearly been taken, but so had our purpose.

From conversations between Tazmia and Kylee I learned about the plan Tazmia and I had conceived over the months in which we were in possession of the amulet. Shimi, Geera, Den, Dr. Joan, and even the family from Wekimore residing in our house, all intended on banding together to complete Cantery's Couere de reve, distribute Avril's orbs to other nodes all around the world, and establish refugee centers to integrate people who would be coming from outside the orbs' perimeter into the new society within its protective boundary. They would also have the help of Tyreek and a man named Terr- who Tazmia felt enormously affectionate toward- and Terr's family if the the amulet could be repossessed with its communication charm attached. Perhaps help would come from Den's brother, Feor -after his rescue?- and the citizens of Feor's second home, Strauk.

It was hard not to get excited about the plans being laid out and reworked daily within Tazmia's household. Community meetings were held at the market place periodically and each time the whole crew would return home, bursting with energy, eager to share new ideas. As the group's enthusiasm increased, so did Tazmia's despair. Her condition prevented her from leaving the house and even her capability to join meetings held at her very own table diminished with each passing day. On good days, she could attend, but rarely was she all present. Pain and dizziness hindered her ability engage. On the worst days, she wasn't ever fully conscious.

She and I weren't the same person anymore, but if I fell asleep I would wake and see from her eyes and feel her pain. I knew she was vaguely aware of my presence and I tried to keep a calm mind, but it was hard, impossible really, to resist Tazmia's downward spiral. I might as well be dead, completely and utterly lifeless, for all the use I am to the world and my friends.

"What was that?" Kylee asked. She had stayed behind to prepare food for when everyone else returned home. The smell made me sick.

I contemplated making up a lie or ignoring her all together, but the anger was too much. I wanted to be heard. I wanted the proof of existence. Even if my words only made her cry, at the very least it was my existence, my words, that still had an effect on this world.
"I might as well be dead," I shot at Kylee.

She turned on me sharply. "What the hell are you talking about?"

I smiled grimly. Yes, that was the response I expected, the response I wanted, and I craved more. "I'll never be able to do what I was once capable of."

"Don't say that, Taz." Kylee's eyes softened a little. She came over and knelt beside my mat. Really it was a whole stack of mats now, meant to keep me as comfortable as possible in my last days. I watched her fold at the knees with a kind of grace I would never again have and hated the disgusting bubbling of jealousy in my gut. "You're already recovering well," she said, rubbing my foot.

I looked at my own legs. The left one was completely immobile, splotchy, red, and swollen. The feeling in my gut revealed itself on my face. "You're lying," I said. "I will never walk further than the kitchen again. My heart will never beat a steady rhythm again. I will never fill both lungs with air again. I will never feel anyone hold my left hand again. These things, they are lost to me forever. To say otherwise is to say that fire is not hot and sugar is not sweet."