Reflections

I’m lost.

I’m lost in a maze of my own making. It is deeply familiar, yet I do not know it at all. I’m constantly moving forward, trying to get somewhere, but the maze twists and it turns and it throws me around, and I don’t think I’ll ever make it to the end. Maybe I am destined to roam this vast unknown for eternity. Have my stars led me astray?

I’ve tried asking for help. I’ve pleaded, I’ve begged, I’ve bargained. I’ve shouted at the night sky to give me something, anything at all. I’ve screamed until my lungs were burning. But to no avail. All I hear are echoes, empty words from my own mouth dancing in the wind. That’s all I ever get. The rest is silence. So, all I can do is move forward.

Occasionally I encounter strange artefacts. Notes, letters, small trinkets, and some pictures. All items are addressed to the same person, but I cannot make any sense of the name written on them. The notes are sometimes sweet reminders, other times mundane tasks or what seem like phone numbers written in a rushed handwriting, but they all feel important. The letters are always soft to the touch and are filled with rosy words of adoration, so the recipient must be very loved. Worthy of love. But the pictures, the pictures are confusing. There is always a group of people, looking back at me as I observe them in their frozen happiness, though the groups vary. In some, there seems to be a family, sometimes a group of friends, or something of the sort. But across all pictures I’ve found, there is one thing in common. A person, most often to the side of the group, not fully facing the camera. The person looks strangely familiar to me with their wild curly hair, but their face is always obscured in some way. I cannot tell who the person is. I do not know.

I’ve collected everything in a small wooden box that I found at the very beginning of the maze. Whenever I put a new artefact into the box, the weight changes drastically. Some trinkets felt heavy as bricks, some lighter than feathers, and the same happened with each picture, letter and note, regardless of their actual size or weight. Sometimes the box is nearly impossible to carry around. Sometimes I can balance it on the tip of my finger. And I never know what each item is going to do. Still, I have no choice but to carry them with me. They’re with me wherever I go. They’re my only companions as I make my way through this maze.

Suddenly, a glimmer of light catches my eye, making me stop in my tracks.

What was that?

I look around cautiously, trying to find the source. Nothing. I start to move again, taking a small, slow step forward, still paying close attention to my surroundings. There. There it is. I stop to observe it. The light is now steadier, though it flickers slightly as I try to stay put. Whatever it is, my gaze is now locked upon the light. I move towards it with curiosity, crouching down to look at it as I get close enough. Whatever could that be? Reaching down, I pry it from the grass and mud it’s almost stuck to.

It’s… it’s a shard of glass. Wait, no. As I rotate the piece in my hand, I can see the reflection of my hand on its scratched-up surface. It’s a mirror. I lift it up to observe it further, and I see yet another speck of light. I turn my head, only to find another piece of a broken mirror. The reflected light is almost blindingly bright, and I shield my eyes as I pick it up. How peculiar. It almost seems like the pieces fit together. As I get up, I see yet another piece. And another beyond it.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I start to follow their trail. The small reflections of light lead me further into the maze, turn after turn, through gates and archways, past fountains and gazebos. If I had any sense of direction before, I have none left now. My head is spinning, the walls are closing in on me, where am I, where am I going? But still… with each step I feel more confident than ever before. Each step feels like a step toward something that I will be destined to find in the end.

Finally, I’m thrown into a wide-open space. Have I found the centre of the maze? I look around, the walls surrounding me on every side like a protective wall, a warm hug. I feel… safe. I feel… accomplished. Whole. Out of breath, I set the box and the mirror pieces down, each piece glimmering as the light hits their surface. I try to tame my curls, that are now messier than ever before, looking at the mirrors for help. I only see bits of myself in each shard, as if they are trying to form a coherent picture but are unable to in their current state. Should I try to set them together? Should I complete the puzzle? Should I finally see more than small reflections of myself?