Voices in the Mirror

by Ross Turner

  “What happened, Johnathan?” His mother asked him. Her voice was much calmer now and her panic had subsided somewhat, though her words still quivered in something that was more likely than not shock.

  “That man is evil.” Johnathan breathed, as if that was all that need to be said.

  Rising slowly to his feet, his skin sore and burning, Johnathan limped over to the pews once again and lowered himself carefully to sit.

  “He’s a monster.” Emily agreed, her voice barely a whisper, looking upon her only son and eldest child as he struggled and fought with his wounds, sorrow and fear gripping her heart.

  Richard had done this to her boy.

  That man.

  That fiend.

  “He went to the place on the river where he dumped Arthur’s body…” Johnathan continued without the need for prompting.

  So desperately did he want to say father, rather than Arthur, but for some reason, after everything that had happened, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  He sighed mournfully, and that simple sound was filled with such terrible and endless remorse.

  Johnathan’s mother swallowed a lump in her throat, and her eyes brimmed with tears, threatening to break free at any moment.

  Somehow she knew what was coming next.

  “He tried to kill me too…” Her son stated, his voice level and steady, cold and emotionless. The simple notion that his voice could hold that tone chilled Emily to the very bone. Guilt suddenly washed over her as she looked upon her son helplessly.

  What had she done?

  What had she allowed to happen?

  Regret and blame swallowed Emily up from the inside as she gazed upon her awful work and all that she had failed to protect. It was no longer only sorrow and grief that consumed her.

  “Arthur protected me though…” Johnathan went on, oblivious to his mother’s silent and internal torment.

  Maddie sidled over to the pew upon which her brother sat, her movements wary, almost even nervous, as if something drastic had changed and she would no longer be welcome beside him.

  Johnathan smiled warmly, knowing she was only scared, and held out his arm to her. She smiled a sweet and shy little smile, her eyes young and winnow some, and cradled into him gratefully. She edged close, but not quite touching, not wanting to hurt him, but he smirked and pulled her up against his side, indifferent to the pain, for it was not important.

  Maddie’s shyness and worry faded away almost instantly and Emily’s heart melted at the sight of her children, and things between the three of them were suddenly alright again.

  These bouts would undoubtedly continue, at least until something drastic changed, on way or another.

  “Do you need anything?” Father Peter asked then, breaking the silence that had fallen over them in that moment of unification.

  At those words, after everything they had been through, as will almost always be the case with young men, Johnathan’s first thought was, of course, food.

  As if on cue his stomach growled loudly and fiercely, feeling rather neglected and calling out desperately to be fed.

  They all laughed openly then, for the second time in the same day, and not a word needed to be said.

  “I’ll lock the door…” Father Peter assured them as he gathered his things, knowing that another visit from Richard would most certainly not be welcomed. “But I’ll leave you a key…” He added, rummaging around inside his robe for the spare key he always kept on his person.

  Finding it, he smiled as he handed it to Emily Knight, and the gratitude in her eyes said volumes more than words ever could have done.

  The door closed quietly and locked with a satisfying click behind the old man as he disappeared outside, and silence once again fell over the vast hall.

  Johnathan held his sister close, and their mother sat down beside them, on Johnathan’s opposite side, and reached her arms around them both, holding her family near.

  There was only one person missing, and, sadly, there was nothing any of them could do to change that.

  The day wore on in Father Peter’s absence and Johnathan and Maddie and Emily Knight enjoyed the time they were given together, as a family should, and were grateful for whomever it was who had been watching over them.

  Johnathan had a good idea who it had been, but he had no way to show his mother or sister all that he had seen.

  Words alone would not do it.

  Soon enough Father Peter returned, and even as the kind old man set about preparing their food, the beginnings of an idea formed in Johnathan’s mind.

  Afternoon came and went and they ate the banquet Father Peter prepared for them. There was food enough to feed them several times over, and they laughed and joked and recovered and were the happiest they had been in a long while.

  Of course Richard’s immediate presence still hung over them all, but for now at least they were safe.

  The light of the day streamed in through the high windows and illuminated their day. Visitors came by to see how they were. Before long news of their recovery spread, and it seemed that the whole village appeared on the doorstep at once.

  Each and every person was invited in, greeted warmly by the old Vicar, and Emily felt safe with her friends and family all about her, as we all do.

  But, nonetheless, regardless of who came and went, regardless of who visited and departed, there was always one face that was forever lost amongst the crowd, and his face was the one she longed to see the most.

  Evening encroached upon them and a deep, vast, endless darkness swept in upon the tiny, insignificant village of Riverbrook.

  Cold winds cut through the trees and bit harshly at the exposed faces of anybody who dared still remain out under the enormous sky, scattered with an ocean of burned out stars that seethed and watched without a sound.

  A million and more shining eyes that had gazed down upon the face of the Earth for a hundred millennia and even longer, turned their cruel eyes now to all that was unfolding before them, and for not the first time in history, something impossible and wonderful, a miracle, began to unfold.

  It was then, once all their plates and cups and dishes and bowls from the day had been cleared and cleaned and dried, that Johnathan put his notion into action.

  Father Peter fetched them blankets and lanterns and candles, delving every time into his seemingly bottomless storeroom. He offered them beds in his quarters in the church and continually asked if there was anything else they needed.

  He was a good man.

  There are a few of them left, it would seem, but only a few.

  “What is it, Johnathan?” He suddenly asked the young boy, sensing somehow amidst all else that there was something on his mind.

  “There’s something I need to do first.” Johnathan told him, grateful for his perception.

  “Yes…?” The old Vicar replied, not quite understanding what the boy needed, but already with that simple reply offering him anything he could possibly give.

  Johnathan glanced for a moment across at his mother and sister, and their expressions cast back at him questioningly, wondering what he was doing.

  The young boy took a deep breath, unsure whether what he had in mind would even work.

  “Please, do you have a mirror?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The full length mirror stood directly in the centre of the aisle, between the rows of pews on either side. Framing the perfect, shining face of the mirror that reflected the dancing orange light of the candles upon the high walls of the hall, was an ornately carved, wooden frame. Swirls and twists and patterns that didn’t even have names to describe them were etched into the border, sculpted however many years ago with such intricacy and finesse that it left no room for words alone to describe them.

  It was clear that this mirror had seen many years in its time, like the one Johnathan had sadly lost to the flames.

  Perhaps it was indeed time that wore them down so, but then also that made them so unique
and invaluable and, ironically, timeless.

  Young Maddie and guilty Emily and the empathetic Vicar looked on, intrigued. Neither Emily nor Father Peter had any idea what the mirror was for.

  Maddie, in the back of her mind, knew what Johnathan was going to try to do. He had tried to show he once before, she remembered. He had taken her into his room and shown her his mirror, and had demanded that he’d seen a man in his reflection.

  She hadn’t understood it at the time, and she still didn’t, but she hoped that this time, for her brother’s sake, if nothing else, that whatever he was trying to do worked.

  He too was unsure.

  He had every right to be, he thought.

  For one, what he was trying to do sounded impossible in the first place.

  Secondly, he was going to try and do it using a different mirror. Whether that made any difference at all or not, he had no idea.

  And thirdly…

  He wasn’t even sure what other reason to choose to make his notion sound even more ludicrous than it already was.

  There was bound to be one, he reasoned, and so, considering that, he simply pushed them all from his mind.

  The day had long worn into night. Dusk had come and gone silently, and now it was time for him to try.

  What else could he do?

  He had nothing else.

  And so, resolutely, the young boy set him mind to the task at hand.

  For a long time Johnathan simply stood. Staring at his own reflection in the mirror, flickering slightly by the hundred or so candles, he bore his eyes into his own gaze, concentrating as hard as he possibly could.

  Not really knowing what else to do besides that, to begin with, Johnathan simply hoped the image of what he now knew was his father would appear, and he tried with all his might to simply will the strange phenomenon to be.

  But after a while Johnathan had seemingly achieved nothing, and his thoughts had settled upon the single, haunting image of the mist surrounded words that had at the time, and still even now, terrified him.

  look after them

  The image stuck in his mind and would not budge. After a while he conceded that he wouldn’t be able to remove the thought, and so instead he tried to focus on it.

  And the more he thought of it, the more it frightened him. But yet, even still, he only focused harder on it.

  Then other memories came flooding to him in a sudden great rush, almost drowning him in thought.

  He thought of Brock, the bully at school.

  He thought of the fire.

  He thought of his father.

  He tried to picture the strong, brave man he had seen in his silver mirror in his bedroom.

  But, hard as he tried, nothing happened.

  Silence hung heavily all around, even as his mind raced, and in the end, after everything, Johnathan still found himself staring back at his own frustrated, terrified reflection: young and feeble and small and insignificant.

  Eventually, after a full hour of trying, all his efforts in vain, Johnathan sat down upon the hard, stone floor, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. Dropping his head into his hands he rubbed his weary eyes and groaned, wondering what he was doing wrong.

  Wondering what he was even doing.

  Emily and Father Peter exchanged a worried look. Still they had no idea what Johnathan was trying to do, and to them it had simply looked like he had spent the past hour staring at his own reflection in silence.

  Maddie however, moving on swift and silent steps as if on her very purpose and existence hung the balance of the whole world, rose to her feet and swept to her brother’s side all in a single motion.

  His head still in his hands, Johnathan did not even know his sister was there until her hand gently grazed his shoulders and back, caressing his concerns with every movement.

  She didn’t startle him however, and her touch comforted him greatly.

  Dropping gracefully to the floor beside him and crossing her legs also, Maddie rested her head lightly upon her brother’s shoulder and took up immediate occupancy. She too stared at their slightly smudged reflection in the mirror, waiting for something to happen.

  The old Vicar looked on curiously at the pair of them.

  He had known them their entire lives, and they had always been so close. Never had a day gone by when they hadn’t been there for each other, no matter what. He looked over to their mother once again, exchanging yet another glance, only this one said something completely different to those previous.

  Emily looked weary, worried and confused, but she loved her children very much. More than anything, Of course she did. What mother doesn’t?

  And not only did Father Peter know that for a fact, but it was all too plain to see as she went and sat down with Johnathan and Emily, joining them, placing one arm around each of them.

  Turning her eyes to the mirror, Emily also gazed into its face and saw the reflection of the three of them, but, at least at that point, only the three of them.

  It was then that Father Peter felt once again the presence that he had felt so often of late, and he smiled warmly at the family before him.

  The fight had been long, and it wasn't over yet, but he knew that they deserved this moment more than any, and so he retired to his quarters, ensuring of course on his way that the heavy wooden doors to the church were locked, making certain the Knights' safety, and he pulled the door to his quarters silently shut behind him, giving the four of them their privacy.

  Johnathan smiled.

  Maddie’s eyes widened in wonder.

  Emily gasped and choked on a shocked sob.

  Arthur looked at the three of them with eyes so full of love and sorrow that it struck at the heart just to see such a thing.

  Stood behind her in their reflection, Emily saw the face she had so desperately longed to see for years now. The man she had so badly yearned for was all of a sudden right there before her.

  His eyes rested for a moment on their children, and as his gaze swept over Johnathan and his wounds, his expression for a moment became creased with serious concern. But then, after a few seconds, a look of decision crossed the devoted father’s face, and all was well again.

  Emily whipped her head round expecting to see him stood behind her.

  But there was nothing.

  Confused, she looked back to the mirror and Arthur smiled warmly at her, though she could see in his eyes the pain that he too felt, and just to know that he missed her just as much as she missed him warmed Emily’s broken heart to the core.

  His silent reassurance set her worries aside. Suddenly, even after all these years, she knew that he still loved them.

  She knew that she had done all she could.

  She knew he was proud of her.

  Their children were strong and brave and loving.

  His unspoken words eased her self-blame and doubt, and for that night, for the first time in far too long, it was as if Arthur was right there with them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next morning Emily Knight awoke and found herself lay on the floor of the church, curled up on one of the blankets that Father Peter had brought them. Her children slept soundly with her, the three of them all huddled together, and even before she had lifted her head, Emily felt a warmth upon her back that she instinctively knew had kept the cold from touching them all throughout the night.

  She knew what that warmth was, and though she could not touch him, she smiled contentedly and a single tear of happiness managed to squeeze its way from her grasp, for she knew without a shadow of a doubt that her dear husband, Arthur Knight, was there with them still.

  Looking up, Emily squinted slightly against the streaks of bright morning light that flooded the enormous cavern that had been their bedroom for the night.

  Beneath her the blanket was soft and warm and she felt almost as if she could stay there quite comfortably forever.

  There was not a sound to be heard besides that of the early morning calls
of the birds outside. Mrs Knight lay there with her children and her husband and listened to their sound for quite some time.

  She had no idea exactly how long really, and quite frankly, she really didn’t care.

  They were all safe, and their family was whole again.

  What else really mattered in the world?

  Nothing, she decided, and she sank deeper and deeper into blissful contentment, wrapping her arms ever tighter about her babies, wishing only that Arthur was able to wrap his arms round her in turn.

  Sadly, Emily knew there would be no way to bring him back for real. What had already happened was impossible, to ask for that too would be beyond insanity.

  Shifting her weight slightly, sliding her arm beneath Johnathan and Maddie as she did so, Emily drew in a sharp breath as she caught one of her son’s dressings, accidentally ripping it away from his skin.

  Instinctively, with concern that can only be learned as a parent, her attention darted in, half rising in an instant, only stopping because what she saw bewildered her completely.

  She ran her fingers over the skin on Johnathan’s arm where she had just accidentally pulled the dressing from.

  It was smooth and pink and fresh, unharmed and unscarred.

  Perfect.

  The feeling that filled Emily Knight then was indescribable.

  She knew instantly that this was her husband’s work, and she whispered a silent prayer thanking him, and telling him that she loved him with all her heart.

  As if in response the warmth at her back intensified, and she could even have sworn that she felt the fingers of a hand interlocking with her own.

  Of course that was madness, but even as she looked at her empty hand, she felt Arthur’s there even still, and smiled affectionately, for she did indeed love him with everything that she had, even if he was gone, never to return.

  When Father Peter decided he had allowed them enough time, for now the sun had well and truly broken over the horizon far to the east, he pushed the door to his quarters open and descended into the nave expectantly.