Beyond the Mirror
Strength washes free from my body in waves. I no longer have the energy to even raise an eyelid. Although I still live I feel my last breath nearing my lips. Yet, there is a secret, that I must tell. A secret that I can not, and will not take with me like the rest.
Ironically at the time I felt I did not have the strength to fight the others with reason, and I failed her. In a way I carry more guilt than the others, because I knew it was wrong, but I would not speak up. I feared being ridiculed, and ostracized by the only community I had ever known. Perhaps now in my weakened state I will have the strength to be her savior.
We were horrible to her. Justice and humanity were lost during those days. Every action was caused by and served by fear. We were less human in our actions than she was. Yet, that is what she was accused of at every turn. They were convinced that she was created beyond the light, in the dark corners of Hell, where man is not welcome. She was tortured for days through man’s law, and denied salvation under God’s name.
What was her crime you may ask?
Nothing, save failing to assuage the community’s fears by falsely admitting that she was a witch, a dark being, and a mistress of the Devil. She was only a girl who barely graced the age of 16, and carried no more guilt than any other girl at that age. I have often wondered why she was chosen. Her beauty was the envy of most women in town, her knowledge rivaled most men, and she was always eager to help others. Were such admirable qualities her downfall? If so, what does that say about us?
After a week the girl’s body was broken, and bloody. However, her will was not! Despite their attempts she stayed firm, and would not alter her answer. She was just a girl, and she was willing to die with that answer upon her lips. The community was infuriated by her resolve. They would not let this “godless beast” succeed in destroying their community. So, they did the only thing that was humanly possible. They increased the torturing to allow the girl the opportunity, and time to repent.
A handful of days passed by with no real change except that the girl was further soaked in her own blood. At this point her clothes were more like bandages than anything else. It was nothing short of difficult to discern what was clothing, and what was skin. I could no longer face what I had become a party to. I questioned how long would this continue, and I was quickly admonished. I sought compassion in my fellow community members, but found none. I wanted to say more, I wanted it to stop, I wanted her to have peace, but I lacked the courage to take action. I failed her, I failed the community, and helped to doom us all.
There was no progress being made. The girl would not budge, and she barely had the strength to respond anymore. So, the community came together in a town hall, and finally decided upon a new course of action. The community was sure the fault laid with the “creatures” eyes, and her ability to discern reality. They knew but one solution to this problem they must show her the truth. It was the responsibility of the town leaders to carry out this decision. So they complied with their duties.
The girl was strapped down to a chair in a position to allow her great discomfort so as to prevent her from falling asleep. Then four large mirrors were placed on each side of her, and she was instructed to look upon until she saw the truth. Before leaving multiple candles and lanterns were placed around the girl to afford her light to see by no matter the condition of the day. These items were monitored every couple of hours to ensure that they were still operating as a benefit to the community.
Two days past with no change. The third day past as uneventful as the other two. That night, however, was an altogether different beast. A terrible storm landed quite heavily upon the town. Trees were uprooted, buildings were damaged, and courage again was lost. The community quickly swept into action, reinforced their emergency cellar, and went into hiding. Not one member went to check on the girl, no one even mentioned her, and again as I thought of her and failed to act I was awash with guilt.
When the storm past the community stepped out into a ravenous fire that had engulfed the building the girl had been kept in. It was too late to take action. The fire had already consumed too much, and there was nothing left to save. There were no cries, and no sounds save the fire crackling through till the morning.
When there was sufficient light the remnants of the building were investigated. The girl’s remains could not be found. There were no bones, and no discernable ashes. The only thing that remained intact was one cracked, and badly darkened mirror.
Where was she? Where had she gone? It was impossible to believe that she had broken free from her restraints. Not to mention she did not have the strength to survive an escape. Still the community sent out three-person search teams to canvass the area. For days the name “Mary” could be heard shouted mostly in unison by three people. It was all to no avail though as the girl was never found.
This is far from the end of the story. As I lay here on this last breath. I beg you to heed the mirror because of the horrors I have seen. This is merely a beginning.
