Life and other Disasters
5. The mirror

Tired as she was, Ava lay down on the bed, as soon as Beth had left the room. Her limbs were heavy, her eyelids slowly closed. She felt like she could sleep for several days. Her head was enveloped by the soft down pillow, and she drifted into sleep.

Then there was a soft tickle on her face. Something was touching her forehead. Annoyed she tried to wipe away whatever it was. However hard she tried, it didn’t go away.

“Please, Ava, wake up,” she heard someone with a croaked voice say. The voice was familiar, but Ava couldn’t pinpoint it to the right person.

She opened her eyes. The room was empty, no one was there, but there was still someone talking to her.

“Why did you do it? Why did you take that pill?” It sounded like the person talking could break down crying any minute. Still, there was something accusing in the voice.

There were chills running down Ava’s spine. She knew exactly who’s voice was, as she had heard this same tone so many times before.

There had always been something accusing in that voice, or a warning, or advice.

“Ava, go to sleep.”

“Ava, don’t climb that tree.”

“Ava, eat your greens.”

It was her mother’s voice, and she was here in this room.

Ava shot up out of the bed, lit a candle, and looked around. There was no one here.

This place must be haunted, she thought. She picked up a bathrobe and wanted to go downstairs, to Liz. If Liz was the manager of this place, she would know what was going on here.

One more time Ava scanned the room. She noticed a faint light coming from the far end of the chamber. Curiously she walked back. Step by step she crossed the room, getting closer and closer to the source of the light.

The antique silver mirror softly glowed. Ava looked into it and to her surprise, she didn’t see her reflection stare back.

She gripped firmly the table where the mirror was standing on, to prevent herself from falling down. She wasn’t prepared for what she saw. It was as if she was looking at a television screen or a movie, the images were rolling in front of her, telling a story of their own.

First, Ava saw herself lying on a hospital bed. Her mother was standing next to the bed, stroking her forehead, talking to her. She could hear the soft drip-drip-drip from the intravenous drip and the steady beep-beep-beeping rhythm from the heart monitor.

“I know you can hear me, Ava. They told me you can.” Her mother let out a shivery sigh. “Please give me a sign. Let me know you can hear me.”

Ava just looked at the mirror. “I’m right here,” she whispered. It was useless and she knew it. Her mother wouldn’t be able to hear her. And so she stood there for several minutes, looking at her mother, who desperately tried to keep her tears down until a doctor entered the room.

Ava knew the man. He was the one who tried to resuscitate her. He looked pale and there were dark patches under his eyes. He must have been up all night.

“Ma’am?” he said with a calm voice. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Her mother nodded, not leaving Ava’s body for a moment.

“What’s going to happen now?” her mother asked, clasping a tissue in her hands.

“For now we’re going to keep her in a coma.” The doctor sounded pragmatic as if he did this many times before. He tried to be as factual as possible without worrying about the family members of the patient. He must have learned this on some communication course. “We’re working on a solution. There are several, but most are invasive. In some cases, the cure could be worse than the disease.”

“Is she going to die?” Her mother whispered the last word as if only speaking of it could push Ava over the edge.

The voice of the doctor was salving, almost a bit arrogant. The sentences he spoke were slurred with medical terminology, and it sounded as if he was proclaiming magical invocations. Ava didn’t understand a word of what he was saying, and she couldn’t believe for one second her mother had comprehended any of what the man had said as well.

“So she’s not going to die, not if we can help it,” he said in the end. “But your daughter isn’t out of the woods yet. There are some circumstantial aspects we have to keep in mind. And that is why we want to talk to you in private.”

The hands of Ava’s mother stopped fussing with the tissue; all blood seemed to be drained from her face. “What do you mean?” Her voice sounded sharp and defensive. She grasped Ava’s hand as if she never wanted to let her daughter go.

The doctor half-smiled that must have soothed many worried parents and loved ones of his patients.

“I mean, we have to know more about your daughter’s medical history. Like did she have problems with her heart before? Did she complain about extreme fatigue or did she have any other complaints?”

Ava’s stood frozen to the ground. Problems with her heart? What was this doctor talking about?

Her mother’s features softened. “Of course.” she nodded absentmindedly, already digging into her memory. “I can help you with that.”

Ava doubted if her mother could tell the doctor anything useful. Her mother and she had a fallout about Patrick, about how she lived her life. Ava remembered how she had stormed out of the kitchen. Furious about how her mother tried to interfere.

Thinking back on it now, It was just a stupid fight. She hadn’t called her mother afterward. In fact, they hadn’t talked in weeks.

Her mother opened her mouth to continue talking, but the doctor laid his hand on her arm.

“I don’t think this is the best place to discuss that. We will go to Doctor Lewis’s room. She’s our heart specialist, and if we’re going to perform any major operation, she will be the one to perform the surgery. Don’t worry, she’s one of the best in the country. If anyone can rescue your daughter it will be her. Maybe you want to contact your husband?”

Her mother shook her head. “He’s away for business.”

Ava rolled her eyes. Of course, he was. It didn’t surprise her at all that her father wasn’t present. He never was. Business was always more important to him. He had skipped her high school graduation for a meeting. He mixed up her and her brother’s birthdays. Sometimes Ava thought he never even wanted to have kids.

“Maybe there’s another family member? A friend?” The young doctor looked with a certain sympathy at her mother. A look reserved for favorite toys that got broken, people who just got fired, and other unfortunate events in life. The doctor saw her mother’s gaze, lingering on Ava’s body. “Someone to support you, to help you.”

Her mother shrugged. “I think I’ll call my sister.”

The doctor nodded. “Okay, Mrs. Dryden. Please follow me.”

While the man walked out of the room, her mother turned around one more time. She pressed her lips on Ava’s forehead. “I love you, Ava.”

When her mother left the room, the surface of the mirror went misty and turned back to normal again.

Ava was exhausted, but the urge to fall sleep again didn’t come back.