Passages

My eyes watered from staring at the flashing monitors. The room was dark and cold, the only light was coming from the multiple screens projecting a dusty blue glow across my face. Most of the screens showed several long, dark hallways with doors lining each wall. An exit sign was placed every few yards, though each one pointed in a different direction with no clear path to follow. The signs illuminated the halls in deep shadows of red. There were three screens that displayed a different scene than the rest. They each showed a different living room from a different house, each one with vastly different furniture. 

I swiveled in my chair in boredom while half heartedly watching the screens until I saw movement at the corner of my eye. I scooted forward, eyes darting to the screen in question, and I was startled to see a little boy standing in one of the halls. He was young, seven or maybe eight years old, with blonde hair and eyes that looked like glowing white pearls as he stared right into the night vision cameras. The boy stood still as a statue, dusted in the red light of the exit signs, looking deep into the camera as if he could see me on the other side. Then, in a blink, the child darted across the hallway. He ran down the halls, a smile plastered on his face. Surely I would have heard him giggling if the cameras had any sort of audio feedback. He flew around one final corner and then opened a random door and threw himself inside. 

As soon as the boy from the hallway disappeared, a new, different boy ran into the living room that was displayed on the top left monitor. He was around the same age as the other boy but was clearly a completely different child. He wore a white turtleneck that was partially covered with a maroon vest, his black hair was slicked back and parted in the middle. His black slacks were clean and crisp, devoid of a single wrinkle or imperfection. He ran into the spacious living room excitedly while holding a toy airplane high above his head. He threw himself on the ground and pretended the plane crashed while silently giggling and rolling over onto his back. The room almost entirely consisted of greys and whites, the only exceptions were the red and black books that lined the multiple tall bookshelves. The boy laid on a plush white rug that looked as though no one had ever stepped on it. The entire room was in a similar state. Not a single speck of dust, not a thing out of place. Even the couch didn’t have any wrinkles or divots to indicate that it had ever been sat on.  

A woman walked in from the door on the other side of the room. It was clear that the living room belonged to her as she was just as perfect and proper as the house itself. Her black blazer was perfectly fitted to her form, her neck adorned a golden necklace that fell perfectly in the center of her chest and her pencil skirt refused to wrinkle even as she marched over to the little boy. Her painted red lips turned downwards in a scowl as she grabbed the boy by his arm and lifted him so that he was standing. I watched in silence as her mouth moved quickly while she dusted off the boy's shoulders and fixed his already-perfect hair. The boy's face fell. She snatched the toy plane from him, said a few more words with a stern face, then walked out the door she entered through.  The boy stood there, staring at the ground, as tears began streaming down his face. After a few long minutes, he took a sharp inhale, hastily wiped his eyes, then walked out the other door. 

The blonde boy reemerged into the hallway. His eyes were glossy as he looked back up to the camera. I looked into his eyes and wondered what he was trying to show me, what sort of message he was trying to convey, or if he was simply playing a game. The boy walked down the hall lazily, his tiny hands running along the red-tinted walls as he debated which door to enter next. He stopped at one, hand hesitantly resting on the knob. He sat there, looking at the door, then shook his head and walked over to the one directly to the left. He entered confidently.

Right as the door closed behind him there entered a new person into the house on the top right camera. A different little boy than the other two, once again similar yet so completely different. His dark hair was curly, his skin was a dark tan and his bright brown eyes reflected the fire that danced in the fireplace. The living room was small, yet homey. There was dust that coated all the various knick-knacks and souvenirs that sat on any space that was available. Pictures of a happy family were scattered along the cracked, peeling walls. What looked like children's drawings and school achievements were magnetized to the refrigerator with colorful letter magnets. A sign that only said the word “Family” was hung above the door. The little boy grabbed a plate from a man who I assumed to be his father due to the photos. The boy plopped onto the couch and looked at his plate, then said something that was silent to me. His father paused from washing the dishes to look over at him with a sad smile on his face. The man walked over and placed a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. He said something, looking directly into the young boy's eyes. I could make out a tiny reflection through the pixels on the screen, it took me a moment to realize that the man was holding back tears. The boy placed his plate on the table beside him then flung himself into his father's arms. The father was only startled for a second before he returned the hug, squeezing the boy tightly. After several long minutes, they pulled back, wiped their tears and the father put on a comforting smile. They got their food and ate together, talking and laughing the entire time. When they were done the father took both their plates to the kitchen. The boy yawned, said a few words to his father, then he lazily waved over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.

At the same time, the boy from before entered the hallway. He stood with his back to the door and looked in both directions of the hallway, then finally decided to go left. He took off suddenly, I watched his little form dart from screen to screen until he decided on the next door. He put his ear to the wood, trying to hear what was on the other side. When he deemed that strategy unhelpful he slowly cracked open the door and tip-toed inside. 

A new boy hesitantly entered the living room on the bottom center screen. He scanned the living room with wary eyes and when he deemed it safe enough to enter further, he took slow, careful steps in. The room was a mess. Bottles of various alcohols littered the carpeted floor. An old, dusty TV sat on top of a moving box and played the highlights of a recent hockey game. Pizza boxes and an assortment of other trash were piled high in the corners of the room. My eyes glanced over to the center of the screen where I noticed the object of the boy's fear. A man sat in a reclined chair, head back, mouth hung open with drool dripping down his stubbled chin as he slept. His hair was greasy and his stomach peeked out from the bottom of his stained, sleeveless shirt. A roach crawled across his bare food and he startled awake. 

I could see the little boy's eyes widen even through the hazy screen. The boy backed up until he hit the wall. He hugged his arms and tried to make himself seem as small as possible, as though he could will himself to be invisible. Unfortunately, the boy wasn’t so lucky. The man abruptly hauled himself to his feet, shot an enraged look across the room at the boy, then wobbled his way over. 

The moment their eyes locked the boy broke into tears. That must have sent the man over the edge because in a movement so fast the cameras could barely register it, he was across the room cornering the boy. He forcefully grabbed the child's thin arm and threw him onto the floor. The boy sobbed and I was somewhat grateful that I couldn’t hear it. The boy tried to stand but the man kicked him, sending him rolling across the floor, clutching his side. The man picked him up by the collar of his shirt and lifted him so that they were face to face. So close that their noses almost brushed. He shouted into the boy's face with some silent, hateful words. When he got it all out of his system he looked at the boy that was wiggling in his grasp as his chest heaved with heavy breaths. Until finally it seemed to dawn on him what he had done and he dropped the boy to the ground. As soon as the boy gathered the strength he lifted himself up and took a few steps back, away from the man. The man looked at him with tears beginning to fall down his face, he held out his arms but the boy flinched then ran out of the room.

The blonde boy entered the hallway in a frenzy. He quickly slammed the door behind him and then threw his body against it as if to keep what was on the other side from getting out. He stood there with his whole weight pressed against the door until the adrenaline slowly wore off. He glanced at the camera again with an apologetic look. He placed a hand over his heart, took a long, deep exhale, then started once again to march down the hallways. This time was different though. He wasn’t playful, he wasn’t thoughtful or even scared. He walked down the hall with purpose, eyes focused ahead of him taking turns with precision, knowing exactly where he was going. Finally, he took a corner and wasn’t visible on any of the screens. I triple-checked all the cameras, looking for any sign of him, until I was startled out of my search by a knock on the door. 

I turned to see the door to the surveillance room slowly crack open. A small figure was visible in the doorway. It was interesting not seeing him painted in the red of the exit signs, instead his pale skin had a blue tint to it from the wall of screens. The boy pointed to the opposite side of the room and I turned to follow where he was directing me. On the right side of the room stood three doors. Each one was identical to the next, with no indication as to where they might lead. I looked back at the boy whose arm was still outstretched. He looked at me expectantly. I knew what I had to do, yet the decision weighed heavy on my heart. I wondered why I had to choose at all. Why I couldn’t just stay here, in the in-between. Why did I have to go back?

As if reading my thoughts the boy shook his head and then once again motioned to the doors. I sighed, then took a few hesitant steps forward. I stopped at the door all the way to the left, my hand hovered over the shimmering knob. I looked over my shoulder to the boy, hoping he would give me some sort of indication as to where the door led. He was emotionless, staring right into my soul. I sighed then took a step over and held my hand up against the middle door. I looked back at the boy who remained unphased. I realized that the child would truly be no help and walked over to the final door. One last time I looked at the boy who was so familiar yet so strange. It felt like looking into a mirror of the past. A moment trapped in a dusty photograph. I felt hot tears gathering in my eyes and I smiled sadly at my younger reflection. 

I let out a bittersweet laugh and hoped to see the boy again soon, but not too soon. Then, without giving myself time to second guess, I walked through the door. 

In an instant, I was surrounded by light. It was warm, but not painfully so, and a comforting pressure surrounded the ever-changing form that I once called my body. I felt my DNA start to form, my cells growing from thin air, and finally, I felt my soul reshape to fit my new body. It was the same but new, reworked to better suit this life. I remembered the countless times when it had done this process before, but it didn’t make it any less mesmerizing. 

I wake into a bright world, crying. The cold air hits my exposed skin and for the first time, I feel all of my senses at work. My mother, hair still clinging to her forehead from sweat, looks over to me. The nurse gently places me into her arms. She kisses my forehead and whispers promises that I can’t understand yet. Promises about what this new life will bring, promises about the world, about the person I will grow to become. With a final wailing sob, I feel my soul settle, and I am at peace.