The trip through the mirror was long. After the flash, all pain stopped. My world had stretched into glaring nothingness. It was like the natural color of a mirror. It's the color of whatever it reflects, but imagine it in its natural state. That's what I was seeing, and it was stretching. Time was passing, but I realized that time is not real. Time is an agreed-upon construct that we represent with numbers. We have taken distance (the distance around the sun), and divided it into labels (hour, minute, day, second). We have agreed upon what time is, and so have become its slave. But still, I shall refer to it as though it is real.

I took this time to reflect on my life. On why I loved the voices so much, even though they swore at me and called me names.

Little Alyssa was sitting alone in her room, chewing on her doll's head. She looked outside, at the setting evening sun.

Chew chew chew.

Her mom had suggested, yesterday, that they go to the park and see if they could find any friends for the three-year-old girl. Her baby's response was to bite harder on the doll's head. She didn't want friends.

"Ttsssff," a whisper came.

"GAgaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa," the baby gurgled. She could talk, but she preferred nonsense noises.

"Tsst. Little... you can't... don't do it...." the voices were starting to make sense.

Alyssa looked around her room, but no-one was there.

"BaaAAAH." She flopped over on her face in surprise.

The voices were gone.

"Gaaaaghbahhh," she said, sitting back up. "Bahbahabh."

The voices were her first friends. That day, she started to change. Both her body and her mind developed faster than most, but in the wrong direction. She seemed to know more than she should. She knew things about the world that no-one could have told her. She stopped talking in baby noises and spoke with a clear ring to her voice. She sounded like she was reciting messages, no matter what she said.

No matter what the voices said to her, she loved them. Her mind was programmed to accept them. It was twisted like an evil creature, like something that craved equally evil companionship. But she was not evil. Her mind just accepted the voices. But every since that first day of falling over, any time someone or something touched her with force, the voices disappeared for a time.

Now she was thinking. 'How did I get so screwed up?' she wondered. 'Is loving these voices evil? Are they bad?'

She didn't know.

The End

29 comments about this story Feed