I continue to look into the endless white reflected in the mirror. Why can't I see myself? This one question breaks a dam within my mind, a flood of questions overwhelm me, drowning me as I am unable to answer any of them. I cannot remember anything about myself. My mind struggles to produce memories, memories that could provide answers. I can feel them, they are a presence in my mind that I cannot touch, no matter how hard I can try.
Now I feel something new yet familiar, just like my senses. I feel frustrated. The emotion courses through my body and I struggle to resist the urge to yell. Then it occurs to me that there is no reason to resist. I scream, raw and painful in my anger and confusion. I stop screaming as my throat starts to burn with the effort, my voice unable to sustain the raw emotion I am trying to express. What was the point when there was no one to listen?
Where am I? Who am I? How did I get here? What is this place? The questions continue to crush me and the inability to answer them makes the frustration feel sharper. It is a dagger sinking into my side. I want relief from this pain but nothing responds to my fervent wish.
I did not have any sense of time in the white room. I do not know how long it was until something happened. It felt like a short eternity. Eventually the voice spoke, deep and reassuring.
"You seek answers" I do not reply. The voice needed none. " Look into the mirrors. Follow the four who felt you. Through others eyes we are seen clearest. Find yourself."
The voice stopped speaking and as it did, three more mirrors appeared on the three other walls, all of them faced the centre of the room where a podium stood, as white as the room around it. I step onto the podium but nothing happens, there is no response. I dismiss it as not important for the moment. My frustration is replaced with hopeful curiosity. I look into the first mirror that appeared once more. Looking back at me is a small child, sitting in a white room much like mine. The child locks eyes with me, they are bright blue, like a summer sky I remember faintly.
Now that I can do something, I am urged to act. I waste no time. I touch the mirror. The surface ripples and I find myself somewhere new, looking down at the child. I am in a hospital, standing beside a nurse. She is preparing food for the baby, murmuring gently to it as it lay in a crib, a pillow supporting it's head gently.
"Who's a good girl? Drink your milk whilst your mama gets better."
The child squeaks and gurgles as it is picked up, eager for the food and oblivious to the words of the nurse. Who is this child?