Chapter 37: The Eye of a Little God

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
What ever you see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful —
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me, she has drowned a young girl, and in me, an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

"Mirror" By Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)

"Where am I? It is so dark! Why is it so dark? And, that voice! Mon Dieu! Who is that, that voice ... so harsh, so ugly, so full of hate! Wait, I know that voice, oh no!"

Christine shuffled carefully along in the pitch dark. She cautiously skated one foot forward and then the other with her arms outstretched, grasping for purchase with anything solid. Her breathing sounded harsh and loud in her own ears. Even though she could see nothing, the young woman closed her eyes, tilted her head and listened. She wished to catch the import of the murmured words echoing and bouncing about her.

"Vandal! Thief! Liar! Murderess!" The ancient voice hissed.

"Which level of hell is your destination, Madame? What punishment awaits you?" It croaked.

Placing her hands defiantly upon her hips and raising her chin against the darkness, Christine replied.

"You cannot frighten me with your empty threats and lies. You have no power over me any more."

A low growl ran through the air surrounding the woman.

"Ma petite belle, I have power over you ... have you forgotten? I am a part of you. You gladly welcomed me into your heart and here I shall stay!"

Violently shaking her head in denial, Christine turned and twisted as she tried to locate the source of the voice.

"No! No, you were never me; you used me for your own twisted purposes!"

"As I recall, you were quite willing. After all, did I not protect you from all of your enemies just as I promised?"

"You lied! I had no enemies other than the ones you created in my mind. Too late, I discovered your deception. You are the serpent, the promise of the apple and the shame after the fall from grace. You are abomination. You found an innocent, a defenseless child and lied to her, but you can lie to me no longer. I know better now. I am stronger than you know."

"You may know better now, but you are innocent no longer. Your innocence can no longer protect you."

Christine's body stilled immediately. She stood tall, her shoulders straightened and her chin lifted in defiant answer to the voice's challenge.

"You do not frighten me. I lost my innocence honestly and without shame. You are not me! You deceived me. I was but a child when first you came to me. You are the one that lied and I gave you my trust blindly. I will do that no longer."

The voice cackled and Christine wondered how she had ever trusted that thing, that hideous hag. She blinked into the darkness, her eyes still seeking light in the ebony blackness. And, then Christine cried out in surprise as a light suddenly shone down upon her. The light, brighter than any light she had seen before and a blue-white in color, stunned her for the briefest of moments. The woman narrowed her eyes and waited.