I describe my first moments on the inside/mindscape/inner world, where insiders stay when not out in the body. My birth was the result of a perceived abandonment of us by a friend, combined with other stress from family matters. The events described here happened only moments after I was born.
The brush strokes were quick, small and produced a messy picture in the left corner of my canvas. Hunched over at my desk, I could have cared less about the quality of my work. After all, it was only the representation that mattered. Deep blue lines represented a connection, and a deep red, almost brown line above them all was the final touch. I stared at my page, the smell of wet paint lingering in the air. The picture was a rather simple one, but in my mind, it meant the world.
I closed my eyes, realizing there was no use fighting myself. Of course, I always knew where this particular image would lead me. Tonight, there was no stopping it. As darkness filled and silenced my thoughts, I couldn't help a tear from tracing my cheek. As I opened my eyes and found myself in the mindscape, I remembered with a wave of horror what lay before me. Setting my jaw, and remembering the vow I’d made to myself, I stood and began walking forward.
The sun was a red ball of fire sinking below the horizon. A boy who I assumed to be Daniel was sprawled before me, facedown, in the dirt, but as I came closer he turned to face me.
"Go along, Zara," he said. "I'm only numb from the shattering that caused your birth."
I walked on, then, somehow trusting that Daniel would be safe, even though I didn't know from where the trust had come. Numb with pain, I only vaguely saw the other insiders as they lay recovering from, presumably, the same event that birthed me. Another razed herself from the ground, and, through some process I still have yet to understand, I remembered, or at least thought I remembered, that this was Sahara, who came to me, saying, "Come with me, for we must go on with our lives soon, at least so far as goes the outside world's family. If he is to leave us, there is something you must do, and I trust that you already know what that is.”
I nodded.
“I do,” I murmured.
We walked down a path and through a cluster of trees to a building that lay just ahead of us. The bronze doors opened, revealing an entryway with a second set of doors. We passed through these, and then turned to our right, into a large room with two wall to wall windows, one on either side of us. Daylight streamed in, and as I looked around, I saw, in the middle of the room, a statue. My heart sank as I looked at it. It looked exactly like the friend we’d lost, as though all that he had shown us, and perhaps some that he hadn’t, had been frozen in time, in space, in action and in memory.
“Say what must be said, Zara. I will be waiting.”
Sahara left the room, closing the door behind her. I took a deep breath, knowing in my heart the words that must be said.
“Sorun,” I said softly, remembering with a pang that this name would never have been fitting in the event of his continuing presence with us, “Sorun, you left us, and yourself, behind. You took all that made you who you are, and you disconnected so completely that you were only one step away from becoming what you are now.”
Tears streamed down my face as I talked, and my voice filled the room as I kept on.
“Sorun, you abandoned us. You led us this far, then asked for something in return, not through your words but through your actions, but when we tried to reach you, you felt nothing.”
Presence was suddenly beside me, calling out her anguish.
“Sorun, I tried to reach you, but you did not want to be reached. I tried to connect, but you didn’t want our connection, only yours, to us.”
I chimed in yet again.
“We reached for you. You refused us. What does that say about you?”
Daniel, still shaky on his feet, came next.
“We thought you would help us, and receive help in return, and you have overturned that idea. What will you overturn next? What will you prove to be a lie?”
“Sorun,” came a saddened voice, and a girl probably close to me in age made herself known to me. “Have you no empathy? Can you not see the lies told to me by the last, who I had an intimate relationship with? Are you reclaiming your ideals, just as he has done with us?”
“Do you lie about our empathy?”
A booming voice thundered through the room behind me. I worled around and stared right into the face of Cooperland, the manager of the very thing he’d just spoken of, and staggered backward.
“You’re ok, Zara,” he murmured, catching me.
“Thanks,” I murmured back, just as Bronwin made her presence known.
“How many times, Sorun, have you ignored us like this?”
Her voice was just as angry as Cooperland’s had been, and I got the sense that these were both people who were strong in their convictions and would not be easy to sway. A feeling of heaviness pressed down on my shoulders.
“Take it, Zara,” Cooperland instructed, and I felt a thousand waves of emotional memory wash over me at once. I fell to the ground, only to be pulled up by Presence and Bronwin. My mind went blank, and I lost myself to the ocean of sensation that I was sure was going to tear me apart. Every memory of the one we’d lost, in his former state of life, flashed into my mind. All points of view, from all parts of the system, all emotions from everyone involved, and every single anguished moment spent in waiting, became mine to carry over the next few minutes. I gasped for breath, reached for something to cling to, and found my breathing falling into rhythm with that of Presence, who had wisely chosen one that called in soothing feelings. Slowly, everything calmed. I opened my eyes, and saw Cooperland sitting beside me.
“Well done,” he said softly. “Maria might still get some of that pain, but I’ll teach you how to make it less painful over time. If need be, you can create others, just as you were born, to help you deal with things, but that should be a last resort.”
“Here, let me help you find some rest,” a voice called from the doorway. Unis stood there, a kind expression on her face. Together, Bronwin and Daniel helped me up. The other girl, the one who was close to my age, still crouched on the ground, shivering. Cooperland knelt to help her as Bronwin, Daniel, Unis and I walked from the room.
“Presence,” Sahara called when she saw us leaving, “Will you help Mariah? I think this was a bit harder on her than most.”
“Already being done,” Presence called back through the doorway.
“So that was her name,” I thought.
We stopped before I realized we’d left the building. Looking around, I saw that we were in a house of sorts. It had a door, and low walls that supported windows. The door had windows in it, which were open. The others led me to a bed in the middle of the room. Daniel went to a bed in the far right corner of the room.
“Just try to breathe,” Bronwin said. “We’re big on that sort of thing here. You’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. I’d stay here with you, but I have my own place to attend to. Good night, Zara,” she said, rising.
“Good night, Bronwin, I replied, falling into the bed.
As I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, as inborn knowledge guided me to do, something stilled in my heart and mind. I knew that I was here to stay, even if he who’d abandoned us was still to return, and even if Maria would yet have to carry her pain, and the others their own. I would find a place here, regardless of the trauma that I currently held, and that thought was a comfort as I drifted off to sleep.