We were running. The wolves snapped at our heels. Hot fetid breath. Thick thorns ripped at us, straining to taste our blood.
Deja vu.
This had happened before. Last time, we had stumbled into Wonderland. Now we pressed forth, desparately seeking our escape Through the Looking Glass.
Mirrors.
We had not come full circle. No, we were reflections. We had floated in on one stream (a stream of water, time, thought… all things reflective), and now we fled on another. And the light was so close. The home that had abandoned us - now just within reach…
Campus. I remembered this place. Arches. Grass. Blue water girl, blue electric guy, wolf man - I don't remember them. No, I remember their reflections, but not them.
Their reflections crawled all over me. Chunks of mirrors, capturing and reflecting the faces they showed to the world. I saw the real and reflected the fake. The gawking, blushing school girls (yes, I remember them too) saw … what exactly did they see?
I ran. I was caught. Campus cop. I reflected. He saw what I wanted. A small crying boy, taken from his room on a cold November night. I screamed as the boy had screamed. Shrilly. Plaintively. Fruitlessly.. The policeman ran, replaced by a matronly colleague.
The pieces began to fit. My cracked, fractured memories began to reform, to heal. I was Holden. No, I was Holden. Now… I am everyone. I'm their darkside. The thing they can never escape. That nagging truth that stares them down when they look into the mirror alone. And perhaps one day, all the beauty and joy and compassion that humanity could ever harness.
Not likely.