About the girl who broke mirrors

He led me through the Institute's halls, describing each "case," and I gazed at them, took notes, and waited for the telling words: "This one is yours," but they wouldn't come. They were diverse, a riot of personalities, incomprehensible, crazy, just like everywhere else... I devoted no more than a tiny fraction of my attention to any of them. I was a young and talented psychiatrist. I had graduated with distinction from my master's degree and had a great, bright career ahead of me. This job at the Wilmut Institute fully satisfied (at least temporarily) my ambition and vanity. Perhaps I was foolish in my pomposity, but the world was at my feet, and I didn't know the word "impossible."

Finally, we entered the last room. It was quite different from the others—it was furnished, with a bookcase taking pride of place and a large, red sofa contrasting with the green, UNUPHOLSTERED walls. A girl, about fifteen, was sitting there. She had short, mousy hair and gray eyes beneath half-closed lids. Dull, empty eyes. She sat motionless. The equipment looked unused. Somewhere, a clock ticked steadily. She sat with her hands on her knees, breathing evenly. And we stood, frozen in contemplation of this strange figure. Strange after dozens of shouting, inflated personalities. I have the impression that my guide deliberately showed me the others first. He wanted to evoke a sense of surprise, shock. He succeeded, but only for a fleeting moment.

"Catatonia?" my voice pierced the silence like a knife whistling through the air. The girl flinched, and the guide smiled wryly, leaving only the corners of his mouth.

"Do you think so little of us? You know what we're into," he said.

I waited patiently for an explanation. I deliberately grimaced with irony and superiority. For a moment, we exchanged glances. He didn't like the fact that they'd accepted someone new; it was dangerous, I read in his eyes. Eventually, however, he lowered his gaze and capitulated. He sighed, then pulled a flat object from his pocket. I watched his movements carefully. He placed it in front of the "patient" and quickly flipped it over, then immediately stepped away. It was a mirror, the kind women use on trips to touch up their makeup. The girl's eyes widened and she looked at it. Seeing it, or rather her own reflection, she opened her mouth in a silent scream and tried to smash the mirror, throwing it to the floor. The carpet wouldn't allow it. There were no sharp objects in the room, so the girl thrashed aimlessly. My companion watched with an expression of, "Familiar, nothing interesting," so, not wanting to reveal my inexperience, I assumed the same expression. Finally, the teenager, holding the mirror back to her face, squeezed the smooth surface with all her might. The glass shattered, several shards falling, hiding in the thick carpet, most remaining embedded in the "patient's" fingers. A few drops of blood stained the white of her dress. Meanwhile, she didn't stop, constantly crushing the remaining smooth shards until the mirror was reduced to sharp glass needles and crystals the size of grains of sand. Gazing at the unusual phenomenon, I hadn't noticed that my guide had disappeared in the meantime and was now returning accompanied by a nurse who had escorted the girl from the room. Throughout this entire time, the "patient" hadn't uttered a single sound; beyond the initial terror, her eyes remained dull, and her movements were slow and carefully measured.

"What do you think?" he asked after a long silence, and without giving me time to respond, he continued. "Her determination knows no bounds. Recently, when she was wearing a straitjacket, she tried to bite the mirror with her teeth.

My planned cynical, scientific lecture had gone to hell. I could no longer contain my surprise. Not so much at the patient's behavior—I'd seen many more dangerous cases—but at his. I had to ask,

"So why did you let her do this now?"

"For a better diagnosis, Dr. Contarel. We've been working on her for three years and still can't figure out the cause of her strange behavior. Now it's your turn. From now on, she's yours, Doctor." He smiled. "And who's the boss now?" But my self-confidence had an uncanny ability to regenerate. I was ready to face the challenge. "We'll see ,

" I said arrogantly. And I left.

They didn't give me the results of their tests. They didn't say anything. I had to start everything over. I tried to talk... During EVERY patient's internship, I managed to force a dialogue. With Rei, it proved impossible. She answered in half-words, revealing not a shred of her soul. I almost doubted she had any.

"Hello, Rei." There was no reaction from her.

"How are you feeling today?

" "Fine." She didn't even look at me.

"What are you thinking about?

" "About nothing."

Exactly. Usually, she just sat on the sofa, looking lost in thought, but her eyes, gray-gold eyes, remained blank. What had happened to her? What had led to this state? What was going on? I knew the Institute only dealt with special cases in the fields of psychiatry, physiology, surgery... There had been much talk about it. Although only now did I realize there was a lot of talk... about nothing. The organization was shrouded in secrecy. I was always led straight to the complex dedicated to my ward; I didn't see the other buildings or rooms. Once, I accidentally (at least officially) opened the door to one of the rooms I was shown around on my first day. It was empty. The next few rooms were empty too. It was as if my workplace was surrounded by a safe wall of impersonal void. Why had they lied to me?

"Hello Rei... How are you feeling today?" I smiled with a plastered doctor's smile.

"Good.

" "Ready for another series of tests?

" "Yes.

We've tried metal, glass, plastic, foil... every surface that reflected light in some way. The result was always the same. Today was the last in a series of "mirror tests"—I poured some water into a wide, flat, matte black bowl. Making sure it reflected her face.

"Lean in, Rei," she did.

She looked into the glass, blinked, and froze. Nothing. No reaction. I perked up—after all, this was a breakthrough!

"Rei? Why aren't you afraid of this... mirror?" You've always been running away from your reflection…" I asked hopefully. Maybe I'd finally learn something.

"It's water," the girl said. "Water changes. It doesn't… take away," she concluded.

I didn't understand. I stood there, pondering her words and the clue they held. Meanwhile, she picked up the bowl and, with a slow movement, looking at herself in the mirror once more, poured the water onto the carpet. I didn't know what to think. In any case, I sensed progress.

I confided this discovery to Duncan, my superior and guide, before I even wrote my report. He showed no surprise or satisfaction, only a contemptuous look. Had my predecessors done the same? No, I couldn't doubt my abilities. This was only the beginning.

Rei's apathy tormented me more than the shattering of mirrors. Even though the daily tests—EEG, EKG, blood, urine, and psychomotor tests—came back normal, she had no will or mind of her own. She had no life in her. What could you do with such a patient? I brought her things, read to her, gave her exercises to do, encouraged her to sing or draw. She followed my instructions. The work was good—technically, but completely devoid of character. Nothing enlivened her. Except the mirrors. I once asked her if she hated herself. She denied it.

"That's good," I said. "Because I like you," I smiled.

Suddenly, I discovered I was telling the truth. Despite the scant progress, the daily fear of being fired (my two-month contract was ending any minute), I felt fond of her. She didn't talk much, always lulling me into an atmosphere of peace. For the past few weeks, I'd felt as calm as ever. She was my therapy, not mine. On impulse, I brought my hand to her face and stroked her cheek with the back of her hand. Cool, velvety skin. She looked at me. For the first time, she met my gaze. Gray-gold pools... They weren't empty, as I'd thought. I'd thought something was hidden deep within them. I saw myself in them... Suddenly, her pupils dilated, fear flashing in them. She jerked away, and when I tried to hold her, she slapped me across the face. Then it dawned on me. She saw her reflection in my eyes! Now she sat huddled in the corner of the couch, whispering softly,

"No, no, almost... no..."

I was terrified. What state could that have brought her to? I wanted to call someone, I wanted to go to her and hug her, when suddenly the door opened and two nurses burst through, followed by Duncan.

"I... I..." I couldn't get the words out. Had they been watching me the whole time?

"Don't worry," he said with a mocking smile. "We won't fire you for this. You've just managed to do something your predecessors haven't. You've managed to get a Reaction!"

I was slowly recovering. I realized they hadn't yet guessed about the reflection in my eyes. They thought the reaction was caused by something else—touch? But surely this had been tried before... Since they'd taken Rei for some tests that would last until tomorrow evening, I had the day off. I went to my apartment (which was on Institute property—we weren't allowed to leave this 20 square kilometer area until our contract expired) and, exhausted, lay down to think things over. Before midnight, the Board called to extend my contract for another two months. I fell asleep with a mixture of relief and anxiety

I entered her room, only to find it deserted. I rushed to the door. It was locked. My card didn't work. Finally, I gave in and sat on the sofa, face in my hands. My mind was blank. No thoughts. I stood up, as if guided by some other, alien force, and stood in front of the bare wall. Its entire surface was occupied by a huge, smooth mirror. I looked at my reflection. My reflection. Her. Her on the other side of the mirror. I looked into her (myself?) eyes. She reached out and touched the inside of the mirror. I realized I was also pressing my fingers against a cold surface. Only it wasn't a cold surface. My hand felt as if it had sunk into a warm gel, a gooey substance. Our hands touched, connected. She pulled me, or maybe I pulled her. In any case, we both entered the mirror from opposite sides, our reflections merged, then vanished in the same instant... The room was empty. Now I was simultaneously in the room and somewhere (where?) inside the mirror... My "outer" self walked up to the mirror and punched it with all my might... The mirror shattered into a million tiny needles that swirled in the air for a moment, then formed a familiar shape.

"Rei..." I whispered. I hugged her to me. I understood. I knew.

* * *

...and then I woke up.

I was sitting in my own bed. It was three in the morning. I remembered the dream clearly—it was the first time I'd dreamed of a patient—the first time I'd dreamed of anything that wasn't a vague, hazy image. I only forgot one thing... what had I understood? I made myself a cup of coffee, still trying to remember... But the vision, as always, the more we care, grew hazy, dimmed. However, I was now certain of one thing: my relationship with the girl wasn't purely professional. Why?

I had to go to her, no matter how early it was; I couldn't stand another moment without meeting the gaze of her gray-gold eyes. I quickly dressed, got into my car, and headed for the institute. The keycard worked—fortunately, they hadn't programmed a time limit into it. I went in. Heading toward the Mental Health Ward, I heard some raised voices from the Rehearsal Office. The Rehearsal Office was essentially one big mystery—no one knew what they were doing, and the doors (I checked) were always locked. When I asked my guide about them, he fell silent... Now, on impulse, I approached the slightly ajar (!) door and began listening.

"We have to end this project immediately!" an unfamiliar voice shouted.

“Not yet, Professor McKinley,” said the second one, which I assumed belonged to Mrs. Luthien, the deputy director of the Institute.

"But progress, if there's any progress at all, is too slow!! Reporters are sniffing around, as are MI5 and the police. Understand, nothing will come of this!

" "We have serious sponsors who think completely differently." The woman's voice remained calm and reserved.

"Oh, your sponsors! They're only after... Do you think I don't know what this is about? A group of fanatics who want to create their own God!

" "You have no right to make such accusations." The director's voice held a note of anger and unpleasant surprise. Apparently, the doctor knew too much.

"You know this better than I do... No, she has to be killed! It won't work anyway! We can't CREATE a God, or even a human being! Take a look at her once! She's completely synthetic—she has no soul!" The truth hit me like a rock. They were after Rei! That's why she was so important—she's a synthetic human... though not entirely successful... No, no, it's impossible, technology hadn't advanced that far yet... We weren't able to... I backed away quietly, then started running.

* * *

I'm leaving. If I'd known earlier, if they'd revealed a word, a document... How could they have deceived me like that?!...

I know... In fact, even if I'd known then, I probably would have taken the job. I was blinded. But never again, never again. I'm leaving. But will they let me go? They have to... Never mind, I have one more important thing to do here.

The familiar dark corridor led him to that one door. Behind it sat... a man? a monster? a puppet in the hands of the bosses? SHE. The result of humans playing God... or perhaps, as McKinley claimed, an attempt to create a god? And I almost... No, even if I was starting to like her, it MUST have been just their game... She had to...

* * *

He knew he had to kill her. Let this world finally return to normal! He opened the door quietly and closed it silently. The soundproof walls would drown out every moan, every cry. Though he didn't think she was moaning. She was just a doll—dangerous in the right hands, but just a doll nonetheless. Heartless, emotionless... She hadn't slept—could she even sleep? She sat on the sofa, staring blankly into space as usual. What was she pondering? Could she think of anything AT ALL? He stepped closer, their knees touching. She looked at him disinterestedly.

"You should be back in three hours," she said in a flat voice.

"Change of plan, today is a special day, we'll run one last test. Okay?" He smiled with that sweet, friendly laugh of his.

Rei realized she liked him. But she didn't say anything. Not yet, she couldn't yet... She just closed her eyes and curved her lips in a faint, shy smile. Had he been mistaken? No, impossible, they had already discovered he knew and prepared this... It was so easy to see through him, to see that he... No, no, she was just a doll! Pretty, kind, but without will, without... without a soul? Yes, exactly! Better to end this as soon as possible and escape. He felt danger close, as if someone's icy gaze were on the back of his neck. He shook himself.

"One last try," his voice quivered. "But first..."

He brushed her hair back from her face with his hands, caressed her cheeks, and then brought his lips to hers. He touched them lightly, then pulled away, not letting go. She looked at him in surprise (surprise?). He looked into her eyes. He saw himself in them... his reflection... She returned the gaze... She saw another self, a second and a third in the two circles of blue and black that were his pupils... A person gives with a look... Eyes are the mirror of the soul... We give ourselves... She whispered something... He didn't hear, he remained staring into the gray-gold irises... No, they were blue after all... She whispered something again. He didn't understand, he couldn't anymore, his thoughts abandoned him and he was left alone... and that loneliness too was swallowed up... By what? Eyes, deep blue eyes. He was drowning. Darkness enveloped him, but after a few moments it curled up and floated away. Nothing remained. Only a whisper, an indefinable whisper in his mind... Soon he too fell silent.

* * *

The head physician wiped the sweat from his brow. He couldn't understand it, couldn't...

"So again, what happened?" One by one - the "boss," or really just the link to the Mountain, was relentless.

"Probably his heart gave out... Some congenital defect... Maybe he learned something that upset him... And simply stopped working..." He tried not to let his embarrassment show... He couldn't tell anyone about the strange, yellowish spots on his almost white irises. He couldn't claim they weren't there before. Maybe he hadn't noticed. So why was he worried?

"Yeah, we hope it won't have a negative impact on the 'patient'?" How he hated this constant plural, as if there were a whole army of ghostly figures behind the 'boss'. Brrr, he had to stop torturing himself... If he weren't aware of what the Institute was doing, he'd think he might end up here soon. He was already freaking out way too much. And on top of that, this death... It was supposed to be different... Everything had already been prepared and...

" "No, Rei's condition hadn't changed...

" "But what next?" he was stubborn. God, he probably doesn't realize we're not doing everything according to the Rules. Why weren't they allowed to do it properly? Why did HE have to die here?

"We still have a few ideas..." Professor Contarel hasn't completely failed. We're seeing some progress.

" "What progress?" "Only specifics and concrete details..." But the head doctor would say anything, as long as they didn't revoke his funding... After all, there were competing organizations in several countries.

" "She... she's no longer afraid of her own backlash... Until recently, she wouldn't even look anyone in the eye, but now the situation has almost completely improved. Actually, officially, THAT was Professor Contarel's mission. So, you could say he's completely successful." He smiled at the small joke, which, of course, didn't amuse his interlocutor.

"Good. And any signs of will?" The doctor bit his lip. But he couldn't deflect.

"None.

" "I thought so..." Now the verdict will be handed down, he was sure of it, the project will be closed. "Good!" he sighed, pulling a piece of paper from his briefcase. "You have six months left, then we'll talk seriously."

He couldn't believe his luck. That could only mean one thing: the other institutes had fallen behind them! They'd gone the furthest! He stood open-mouthed, clutching the document in his clenched fist, and didn't move, even after the official left. After recovering from his shock, he went to Rei.

"Rei, I have good news for you! They gave us another six months! What luck!" He had no idea why he was confiding his every worry and happiness to her. Perhaps because she wouldn't understand anyway... She wouldn't criticize...

She turned her face toward him, her eyes azure.

"Yes, Professor."

He felt a shiver as he stared into those blue slits. Weren't they gray before? His memory was failing him... In a moment, he discovered he couldn't tear himself away from them... He had to drown in the waves of a gentle sea... A sea whose waves had suddenly changed from blue to tinged with brown... He felt as if his insides were being sucked into some vast, terrible whirlpool... He couldn't gather his thoughts... Suddenly, he found himself standing in a vast, empty, colorless square. Rei stood opposite him, in her usual pose, her arms at her sides. The wind played with her hair. He couldn't quite remember where he knew her from...

"Who are you?" he asked.

"You.

" "How can you be me? I am...

" "We are just reflections in other people's eyes."

And everything faded away.

* * *

She knew there was more. She didn't know everything yet. What they had wasn't everything. She felt a hunger for her soul. Her awakened heart ached. She didn't want him to die. It was too late now, but that didn't matter. She would find more; she knew they were out there somewhere. Reflections of the soul. Feelings. She knew she was meant to be a god. Who was she? That remained to be seen...