The Boy in the Mirror: Finding Love in the Strangest of Ways

by Bonny Capps

  Dad and I are left alone beside my mother’s bed. The machines from the hospital have followed her here. I sit beside her on the soft bed and look down at my weak mother. Mary must have tended to her because her hair isn’t tangled; it’s soft and surrounds her head like a halo. She looks peaceful and calm. She looks beautiful. I look up towards my dad; he’s wearing his usual polo shirt and jeans. His hands are tucked in his pockets as his eyes stay locked onto my mother.

  “Why is she here?” I whisper, willing him to look at me but he doesn’t. He sighs and his lip begins trembling as tears threaten, sitting on the lids of his eyes, begging to escape. He blinks and they are set free. Oh daddy. This is painful, to see this strong man so weak, so sad, so afraid. He tries his best to compose himself. “Hospice.” He responds. I nod slowly as I look back towards her. She is here to die. The hospital did all that they could and they sent her home to… die.

  My dad leaves mom and me alone. I watch her sleep, so peaceful – so quiet other than the machine that breathes for her. I feel like I should be crying, the sadness is there – but the tears aren’t. Maybe I’ve run out of them. Maybe this situation has run me down emotionally. Maybe I’m trying to be strong for dad.

  I sit with her for a while. Silently pleading God to make her wake up, but she doesn’t. She remains still. I get up and walk towards her vanity; I trace my fingers over her hairbrush and powder. I open up a drawer in the vanity and see her jewelry neatly laid out, a necklace with a diamond studded heart and her engagement ring. I close it and open the drawer directly under it. I’m taken a back when I see a folded piece of paper. In cursive writing it reads, “To my daughter”. I gently remove it from the drawer and run my fingers along the edges. I breathe in and exhale slowly as I unfold the paper.

  “Mandy,

  I wanted to write you this letter while I’m well, while I can write.

  I am sorry for being such a poor mother; I know that I should have done better for you. I remember the day I first held you in my arms; you were so small and so perfect. I couldn’t stop kissing your little fingers and toes. You were a wonderfully behaved baby; people were in awe with you. I was and am so very proud of you. I used to call you my little star, you were meant to shine.

  I remember when I bought your first ballet slippers, you were just a toddler and they were so small. You kicked and you fought while I tried to put them on your feet. Once I finally got them laced up you calmed down immediately. You told your father and me that you were a ballerina and you began twirling around. You were so graceful; I knew you were a natural.

  When you were three years old, I became pregnant with a little boy, his name was Peter. He was born with ten fingers and ten toes; he was perfect – just like you. One night, when Peter was a year old, I heard a blood curdling scream, it was your father. I ran to him, in Peter’s room. Your father was clinging on to him; his little body was limp and cold. Your father tried to save him, but… he was already gone.

  We never got any answers; he died mysteriously, in his sleep. Something inside of me changed. Sadness took over my life. I didn’t want to be near your father, I felt that he could have done more, that he could have saved Peter. I know now that nothing could be done. I forever regret pushing your father away. I was selfish and ignored the impact it must have had on him as well.

  I hid behind a closed door in my room; I hid behind a drunken view of the world. It seemed to make things better, but I lost sight of the most precious thing in the world: You.

  My sweet girl, I am so sorry for taking two loving parents away from you. I’m so sorry for being absent. Please do not let my actions take away your worth. Please, never give up on your dreams. Please, please never stop dancing. And, please watch after your father. He will need you more than you know when I finally pass on. Remember, I will be watching over you, willing you to do your best.

  I love you more than anything in the world. Never give up on yourself or your dreams. Anything is possible if you put your mind to it.

  There is a bank account, in your name. In it, I leave you my inheritance. I trust that you will use it wisely – to achieve your dreams. Also, beneath this letter is a picture. Hold it close to your heart always, I will soon depart this world and enter the unknown. Know that the two people in this picture will look after you always, know that you are never alone.

  With all my love,

  Mom”

  My breaths are shallow as tears run down my face. My hand begins trembling as I look down at the letter in disbelief. Peter? A little brother? No-one ever mentioned him to me. This puzzle that I always struggled to understand has pieced together before my eyes. Her child died. She couldn’t cope. It wasn’t me as I thought for so many years and it left dad resenting.

  I place the letter over my heart and my eyes travel back to the drawer. In it there is a necklace placed over a picture. I pick it up and it is linked through a ring. The ring is inscribed “Always Watching Over You”. I place the letter on the desk and fasten the necklace around my neck. I reach in the drawer and retrieve the picture.

  It’s my mother sitting in front of a Christmas tree, the white lights twinkle behind her and red and white ornaments hang throughout the fern. I am a toddler; I’m standing behind her with my arms wrapped around her neck. I have a Santa hat on and it is much too big, my eyes peek out from under it and I have a big grin on my face, displaying my baby teeth. My mom’s hair hangs over her shoulders and she is wearing red, silk pajamas. Her arms are extended out and she is holding a baby up in front of her. He is wearing a footed button up onsie; it’s white and has little penguins printed on it. He has soft amber curls surrounding his head and a toothless smile on his face.

  He looks like me. That’s my brother. My baby brother. I trace my finger around his sweet little face, “Hi Peter.” I whisper, a smile stretching across my face. I put the picture up to my chest. The ring rests beside it as it dangles from my neck. Everything makes sense now.

  I make my way to my room and close the door behind me. I place the letter on my dresser and continue to hold the picture to my chest. The sun has set and my room has a soft ambient glow casted throughout it from the white Christmas lights on my bed posts. I walk to the mirror and sink down to the floor. I rest my hands in my lap, the faces in the picture looking up at me.

  “This is my brother – Peter… my baby brother. He’s so tiny and… and he looks like me.” I whisper, my eyes travel up to the still mirror, “Fynn, I miss you so much. I love you so, so much.” I sigh and stand, I slip the picture in the frame of the mirror. I look at my reflection. My eyes are red and swollen, my hair hanging over my chest, framing the necklace that my mother left for me, another promise. Fynn promised too, but where is he?

  My mother knew all along what she was doing to me. She knew that she was abandoning me. She had a choice. We all have a choice.

  I hear a roaring engine outside and walk to my window, I see Matthew getting out of his car and walking to the front door. There is a gentle knock and I hear voices downstairs. My father and Matthew are talking. I put my ear to the door and listen to their muffled voices. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I know you were just looking out for her.” My dad says.

  What is he talking about? Matthew responds but I can’t make out what he is saying. I hear steps up the stairs and I walk to my bed and sit on the edge. I hear a tap at my door. “Come in.” I murmur. The door opens and Matthew peeks in. I smile at him as he walks in, closing the door and placing a stack of folders on my dresser. He runs his hand over the wood dresser and stops to look at pictures that I have tacked on my wall next to my mirror. He smiles and points to one in particular, “I remember this, the junior car wash, you got soap in my eyes.” I smile and walk over to him, our shoulders touching as I examine the picture, I’m on Matthews back, squeezing a sponge over his head, a big smile on my face.

  He has suds all over his face; his eyes squeezed shut and a grin on his face. “That was a really, really good day.
Then we went to Marnies and the waitress got mad because we hogged her table for so long.” I reply, looking towards him. He has a reminiscent smile on his face. He looks towards me and then his eyes travel to the mirror behind me. A frown overcomes his face and he walks towards it. He retrieves the picture that I put in the frame of the mirror earlier. He looks perplexed.

  “That’s my brother, Peter.” I whisper. He looks into my eyes, “Your brother?” I nod slowly, “Yeah… he uh… he died when he was a baby.” Matthew puts the picture back in its place and sits on the edge of my bed, resting his arms on his knees and looking down at his converse. I join him, lacing my fingers in my lap. “What was my dad talking about?” I ask. Matthew sighs and tenses his jaw, “The night that I came over, I saw the handprint on your cheek. I was pissed. I found him and I uh… had a couple of words with him.”

  I raise my eyebrows in amusement. Matthew looks up at me; his caring eyes steal my heart away. He defended me. It makes me love him even more. “Can I ask you a question?” He asks, still looking into my eyes. “Sure.” I whisper. He extends his arms behind him, his hands spread out over my bedspread, “What changed?” I inhale deeply, looking down at my hands. “I thought I knew what I wanted. I do love you, but I think I got confused with how I love you. I hope I didn’t mess everything up with me and you. I would never forgive myself if I did.” I murmur, my eyes meeting his again.

  He lets out a sigh and reaches towards me, running his thumb across my bottom lip. He slips off his hoodie and his converse and scoots up further on the bed and lays his head on my pillow. He reaches towards me and I hesitate for a moment, I’m not sure of his intentions. But, this is Matthew. I trust him with all my heart. I crawl towards him and lay beside him, my back facing him. He moves closer, his chest pressed against my back and wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly against him. He links his fingers through mine and kisses the back of my head. “I love you Mands.” Tears begin forming in my eyes and I rub my thumb along his index finger, “I love you too.”

  I forgot how safe he makes me feel.

  Chapter Twenty

  The snow falls gracefully outside, coating the ground. It’s early December. My mom is still in hospice care. I say good morning and goodnight every day. I have yet to talk to my dad about Peter, I haven’t found the right time. He is a brand new man, though he hurts and it is very evident at times – he is the dad that I have always wanted, the dad that I’ve needed. Fynn is still a huge part of my thoughts and my heart. The experiences that I faced on the other side of the mirror will never leave me, they are forever embedded and for that I am grateful.

  I am examining myself in my mirror, I am wearing my leather jacket and jeans with knee high boots, a purple scarf wrapped around my neck and my hair is down, hanging above the small of my back. “That looks adorable Mands!” McKenzie exclaims from behind me. She is beautiful as ever with her jet black spiral curls. She is wearing dark jeans and furry brown boots with a brown jacket.

  McKenzie was so thoughtful and understanding that day when I finally worked up the nerve to approach her. I told her everything, or mostly everything. I told her about what happened the day in the closet when I tried to end my own life. I told her about how my feelings for Matthew had changed and about my mother’s letter and about my father. She sat and listened intently for hours while I drifted through so many different emotions. She is truly an amazing friend.

  She and Matthew are together once more and I couldn’t be happier for the two. Life at school is better; Sadie leaves me alone for the most part, other than an occasional smile or a wave. I have begun dancing again, but not as avidly as I once did. My passion has become writing, poetry mostly – I would love to share the world behind the mirror with everyone else. I would love to introduce the love of my life, Fynn. I want to keep him alive forever.

  “Mandy! We’ve got to get a move on!” My dad hollers from downstairs. McKenzie runs up from behind me and wraps her arms around my shoulders, “You are going to be great Mands!” We retreat from my room and I peek into my mom’s room. Christmas lights are strewn throughout it and she has her own personal Christmas tree. She lies lifelessly as I look at her, “Wish me luck mom! I love you!”

  McKenzie and I make it downstairs and join Matthew, dad and Mary in the entry. Matthew wraps his arm around McKenzie’s shoulder, they are adorable together. My dad rests his hand on my back and looks down at me intently. “You ready sweetheart?” I nod my head and I make my way outside.

  We pull up to the school where the sign displays “Suicide is not the Answer – Presented by Survivors”. I get out of the car and stare up at the sign. Over the past month I have joined an anti-suicide group that reaches out to young kids called “Survivors”. It has lit a fire under me, knowing that I am helping others and its actually making an impact on them – there is no better feeling than that.

  I stand behind the red curtain in the auditorium and look out into the crowd; it’s a full house tonight. Principle Hastings steps out and looks out into the crowd, “I would like to bring a strong and intelligent woman to the stage. Please, put your hands together for the lovely and talented Mandy Knolls.” I walk across the stage and wave to the audience, the bright lights meeting my face as the crowd roars with applause. I shake Principle Hastings hand and make my way to the podium as I look down at the sea of people.

  “My name is Mandy Knolls. I am a survivor of suicide. For a long time, I was a sad person. I felt alone in the world and I felt abandoned. I almost let that get the best of me. But then, something changed inside of me. There was a battle inside of my mind. I had a choice to either let it take me down a lonely path – the path of destruction or I could battle my inner demons to rid them forever. I made the choice to fight back and I defeated my demons. Never give up the fight. Never give up on yourself. Never give up on your dreams. Thank you.” I nod as I conclude my speech and welcome the next “Survivors” member to the stage as the crowd applauds.

  “So what’s next Mands?” Matthew asks from across the table. We are sitting at a booth at Marnies. We dropped dad and Mary off at the house and decided to go grab a bite to eat. I take a sip of my coffee and look out the window, watching the snowflakes fall gently in front of the darkness outside. “I don’t know. Schools almost out and I wanted to stretch my wings a bit. Maybe do some more writing and see more than this place. I want to get out of Forest Grove for a while.” My eyes travel back to Matthew and McKenzie as they stare at me intently.

  “I want you guys to come with me. My mom, she opened a bank account. There is a lot of money in there, more money than I know what to do with.” Matthew has a huge grin on his face, “Are we talking summer Vaca?” He asks excitedly. I nod with a huge grin on my face. McKenzie begins clapping her hands, her curls bouncing up and down, “Oh my God! It’s going to be so fun! So fun! We have to start planning immediately!”

  I say my goodbyes to my friends and make my way inside. I hear noise coming from the living room and look in. My dad is sitting on the couch with his arm rested on the back. The TV is displaying an old video; I see my mom and Peter. He is clumsily walking across this same living room. My eyes never leave the screen as I plop down next to my dad. He kisses the top of my head and wraps his arm around my shoulder. My mom looks stunning as she reaches out towards him and he makes his way towards her, “Come here my little prince. Come to mommy.” She says. Her voice is sweet and so full of life. “Here comes jelly bean!” My dad exclaims from behind the camera. I’m so small as I look up into the camera, “Daddy make movie?” I ask. A smile stretches across my face as I watch.

  I look up at dad, he has tears welled up in his eyes as he looks at me intently, “I wish I could take it back Mandy. I wish that I could have saved him that day.” I glance towards the TV and then my eyes lock onto his again, “Daddy, there is nothing you could have done. You have to understand that. Mom didn’t know how to get through it. She didn’t think about what it was doing to you or to me.” I lay my head
on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around me. “I love you jelly bean.” He says.

  “I love you daddy.”

  We sit forever watching the old movies and I see all of the love. I wish that I could have known Peter; he is such a beautiful baby, so full of life. He would have grown to be a handsome, caring young man. I’m not sure why life gave this family such a crappy hand, but something that I’ve learned is that you can always make something beautiful, even if it’s broken.

  My father begins snoring and wakes me up, we must have dozed off. I uncurl my legs from under me and make my way to the TV and shut it off. I walk up the creaky stairs and into my mother’s room. I remove my boots and lay next to her. Her chest slowly moves up and down as the machine breathes for her.

  I look up at her sleeping face, she was so beautiful in the video and she still is. “I wish that I could turn back time mom. I wish that Peter never died and I wish that you didn’t abandon dad and me.” The tears begin to fall as I run my fingers through her soft hair, “I met a boy. He is beautiful and he loved me even when I was weak. He made me stronger.” I am startled when I feel her hand over mine and she squeezes it gently. Her lips begin forming into a smile.

  But her eyes remain closed and her body remains still. The smile falls and her lips are lifeless once more. I sigh deeply as I retreat from her room and make my way into my own. I sit in front of my mirror and stare at it intently, remembering everything that seemed to have occurred over days and days. Is it possible that none of this is true? Is it possible that it did in fact happen?

  There are so many questions unanswered. But I think I need to accept the fact that Fynn is not coming back. If he were, then he would already be here or he would have taken me with him once again.