Reflection

He sat facing the mirror, watching his lonely face sag in the moonlight.  There was no breeze.  There was no air.  For he sat in a jail cell, waiting on judges and men of all ages to decide his fate.  He began to hum for he did not know what to do.  The guard who was standing right outside the door made him nervous, he felt his presence. 
         The room was brick.  The room was cold.  All it contained was a mirror, a big circular mirror held up by its golden frame, standing solitary in the middle of the room.  A small sliver of a window was up in the far right corner.  Strands of moonlight seeped in between the bars.  The man became frustrated with his reflection.  He pushed the mirror towards the wall but it did not make him feel any better.  So he sat down in the center of the room, on the damp floor, facing the blank wall.  But he felt the mirror behind him.  It asked for him to turn around and watch, it pleaded with him.
         For days this torment went on.  The mirror pleaded and the man sat, ignorant of what the mirror could teach him.  He did not even turn around to feel the warmth of the sun’s rays beaming in each day, the few strands that could reach.  Occasionally the guard would open the door, mutter a few words that the man did not care to hear, and leave a plate of rice or beans or broccoli with a glass of water.  It was not so bad.  He sat and ate.  He refused to think.  The act of thinking only lead to reliving the memories, the moments, that had led him to this situation.  So thinking was out of the question.  The man sat, quietly eating, waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting for a decision.
         One day the guard came in as normal.  The routine had been established and the man had become okay with it.  He was content.  But this day the guard took something else out of his bag.  He first took out a rather large paper towel.  Startled, the man turned around, wondering what could be happening.  The guard took out a bottle of spray and proceeded to dust off the mirror on the other side of the room.  A thick layer of dust was swept away.  What remained in its place shimmered.  The vision almost blinded the man in the cell.  Slowly the guard left.  The door shut.
         The man turned around for the first time in days.  He watched this new version of himself.  A cleaner version, a visible version.  The man slid closer, steadily moving towards the mirror.  He began to see his features.  The man examined what he was.  Each feature was vividly displayed in the mirror. 

         His first glance went to his nose.  It had always been awkwardly bent, very slightly, but his entire family could spot it out.  They would say, “ Jay look at your little nose, look at how it bends just like your fathers.”  His face propped up and stabilized in the mirror.  The thought of his family made him drowsy.  But again his vision went to the connection between his father and himself.  The crooked nose.  He saw it all.
         Brian Donlin was a man who deserved more than he was given. He was given a wife who did not love him and two sons who he did not even know, due to the fact that he worked all the time as nurse at the nearby emergency hospital.  It was so close that the sirens constantly kept his entire family awake.  Jay remembered this especially.  The long nights staring out the window, watching for his father to return home. Jay did not even know his father.  What did he like?  Which sport did he play in school?  Did he play a sport?  Why couldn’t he read to him like all of his friend’s fathers did?  An ambulance passes by.  Its red lights flash.  Its sirens hiss.  Was daddy working to save the people in the ambulance?  Does daddy do a good job?  Can I be proud of daddy?  Icicles clung to the window.  Jay watched them instead of the road.  They at least were melting and brought some amount of entertainment.  His brother snored in the bed next to his.  Drip.  Drip.  Drip.  Is that daddy?  Drip.  No.  Okay, I will just wait ten more minutes.

         The man sat back and closed his eyes.  He turned instead to the sunlight through the bars.  The small strings of light were the only proof of existence outside of his brick room.  The mirror caught his glance again.  This time the man’s stare went towards his hair.  It had grown quite a deal in the past month.  The mess sat on top of his head curling its way down to his earlobes.  It was dark, a mixture of brown and black.  His curls had always been an object to be made fun of.  They were never in place and were always getting caught on one thing or another.  Again the vision took him to another place.  This time it was freshman year.
         Jay sits down in the first chair.  It is cold.  He turns around and looks at the class behind him, an array of girls whispering and boys trying to catch their glances.  Jay turns around.  The teacher walks in.
         Math class continues as always.  Jay liked math.  How the logic always lines up.  A clear cut answer is always presented.  A solution.  Mr. Lehigh now gave a practice problem.  What is this?  Jay tries again and again but can not find the solution.  He begins to fidget with frustration.  His feet shake out of control and his pencil taps violently.  The teacher asks if he is okay.  Jay feels his palms sweat.  Why can’t he solve it?  Laughter.  It comes from the corners.  It is everywhere.
         Bell.
         Jay leaves quickly, almost a run.  He rushes to the bathroom.  He looks in the mirror and there he finds piles of paper floating through his hair.  As he tries to take them out they are wet and sticky. 

         The door opened.  The man smiled.  A distraction was needed.  Tonight it was rice and beans.  What a treat.  Slowly the guard placed the tray on the floor.  Their eyes met and the man could feel the guards fear.  He read his thought.  Was this man everything they talked about?  Did he really do that?  The guard left to quickly for the man to defend himself.  But what could he say?  After the meal he resumed his position in front of the mirror.
         His cheeks had rearranged in his time spent in the jail cell.  The only thing that had changed about him.  They were thinner.  Sucked into the back of his mouth as if he was forever sucking on a sour candy.  This disgusted him.  There had been a time where he had full, pudgy cheeks that his family would love to hold and pinch and smile at.  He loved to smile with them.  The dimples would stretch and make him look like a cartoon.  His cousin had always made fun of them, in a loving way, or so the man thought.  In a loving way.

         Ricky looks at Jay and says, “Jay, we are more than this.  We are young and excited.  Why are we here, in this dump, lost and alone?  We are free.  We could just leave.  What’s stopping us?”
         Jay looks towards the apartment his family gathers in for Thanksgiving.  It is nothing more than a few faces.  He did not even know them anymore.  Except for Ricky.  Ricky was always there.
         Ricky put his hand on Jay’s cheek.  He turns Jay’s face towards his, away from the house.  “Man, let’s just go.  Forget them.  They are a bunch of liars anyways.”
         Jay stays silent.  Silence.
         The silence pauses and waits.  But Ricky can not.
         “Man, what are you thinking?  Share something!”
         Jay still waits.
         His father’s memories rest in that house.  His mother remains pretending to smile.  Yeah, he does not need this.
         “Let’s go.  Let’s go to California.”
         So they travel.  In Ricky’s run down car they travel from New Jersey to California.  Ricky talks.  Jay listens.  They meet people on the streets as Ricky plays his guitar begging for money.  Some listen.  Some stare.  Some just pass right by. 

         A voice broke his concentration.  “The jury is meeting for the final time tomorrow.  A decision will be made by then.”  The guard finished speaking, put down the plate of rice, and left.  The man ate ravenously.  He wished for cookie dough, or dark chocolate.  Prisoners should receive something tasty before they are sent to…  No a decision will be made tomorrow.  Thoughts like that are dangerous.
         Finally the man looked into what he had been avoiding.  Eyes.  A dark shade of brown.  Nothing special.  The eyelashes were too long, they darken his eyes even more.  His pupils shrank from the light.  The mirror.  It told it all.  All that those eyes had seen.  All that they have endured.

         It was May 2nd to be exact.  A clear, beautiful night as Jay walked down the street with Ricky.

         He blinks in the mirror.  It rushes back.

         May 2nd 11:45pm.
         Jay and Ricky walk over a bridge.  It is nice and quiet and serene after the loud bar they just left.  The stars shine, lighting up the night.  Jay continues to look up as he walks.  He can not hear Ricky’s whimpers.  California has not been the nicest.  They are broke and according to every coffee shop, untalented.  Jay feels Ricky’s presence gone so he brings his glance down from the starry sky down to the street.  Not there.  Behind him.  Ricky stands, clinging to the edge of the fence, the edge of the bridge.  Jay walks over.
         “Are you okay Ricky?”
         Rick sobs out his words, “remember that day I said we were more than our family.  We were more than a couple of faces just living through each day with nothing particularly special about us.  Do you remember?”
         “Yeah.”
         “Well, I was thinking.  What if we are just that?  What if our family and where we come from defines us.  Nothing has happened Jay, we are just here.  We just live each day trying to get by.  But are you enjoying this?  I am not.”
         “Ricky why don’t we go home get some sleep…”
         “What home?!  We have no home Jay.  We live in a room.  Barely even a room, Jay come on.  We have nothing.”
         Jay put his hands on Ricky’s shoulder.  He watches Ricky as he wipes up his tears.  May 2nd 12:06am.  Ricky without warning climbs up.  He stands.  He yells.  Jay’s hand tries to grab him, but his reaction is delayed.  His eyes cannot take in the image.  A siren whistles behind him.  Red and blue flash across the bridge.
         Splash.
         Jay saw it all.
         The police saw half.
         Jay cannot speak.
         The handcuffs scratch his wrist.

         And then he snapped back into reality.  His eyes were filling with water as he looked into the mirror.  One blink was all it took.  One drop fell and another followed.  Soon they flowed continuously down his cheek.  Then all of the feelings came rushing in.  He looked around at the crooked stones and remembered it all.  Sobs came and soon were uncontrollable.  He hugged his knees together and screamed into them.  He got up and paced around wiping away the tears, snot, and sweat falling from his face.  This face.  The face.  The face that had seemed expressionless to everyone else broke and all of his past came flying out.  He ended by the mirror.  He stood in front.  Watching.  Through rage he punched the mirror.  Broke it.  His reflection shattered into a thousand pieces, that scattered by his feet.
         He got up and saw the guards face.  Anger flourished. 
         “You!” he yelled.  The guard made eye contact.  “Yes! Why is this here?!  Why is there a mirror in a jail cell?!  Is this some kind of torture?  I am going to die anyway why torment me with this!”  Paralyzed the guard could not respond in any way.  The man sat down and covered his face with his hands.  Soon enough he was alone.  All alone.
         For the first time since he entered the cell he went over to the window.  Through the bars he could see the colored sky.  He saw yellows, purples, reds, oranges.  The sight amazed him as he took in the moment with a deep, full breath.  It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
         At that moment the guard came in.  They exchanged glances.  The guard nodded and took the man away.

                                       The shattered reflection was left alone, gathering dust.