Reflection

The sky glowed with the innocence of the morning, the sun barely peeking over the blanketed mountains, its orange rays glinting off of the snow. Ever the early riser, a young girl sat on a large boulder, her knees tucked into her chest and her nose buried into her coat. The fresh air tempered the fiery excitement usually found in her wide brown eyes, replacing it with the sense of calm that only the morning could bring.

A warm chuckle broke the silence as her father jogged towards her, his nose swollen from cold and lips chapped by the wind. “Your mother was worried about you,” he announced as he flopped beside her, “I told her you favored the bears over her incessant worrying.” The girl tucked herself into his side, her lips quirking into a small smile as she pictured her mother’s reaction; surely masked with a disapproving frown, hiding a quiet sense of amusement.

Their conversation subsided, leaving a sense of contentment in the crisp air. They made a sweet picture, father and daughter bathed in sunlight, a spot of color in the middle of a frozen wilderness. She hid her face in his shoulder, his warmth sheltering her from the dangerous world and the chilling wind. Although oblivious to the uncertainty of being an adult, she had built her character through trial and error, consistently guided through her failures by her father. 

She felt safe on the edge of a frozen lake, perched precariously on a gnarled boulder, her father’s arms wrapped protectively around her shoulders. It was nice to know that once the sun had fully risen it would be time to go back to the coziness of her home, her mother most likely waiting with a warm cup of chocolate and a scolding tone that would melt into a smile. It was always nice knowing that there were people who would be by her side no matter what. Till the end of time. 

That was years ago. Years before she had left the comfort of her parents and the safety of her home. Her home. A place that used to be the wild forest that surrounded her house, filled with twisting trees and her father’s booming laugh. She knew every path by heart, relying on the unforgiving terrain to soothe her racing mind. 

Now she sat on the same boulder. Smoother and wobblier than what she remembered, weathered by the pressures of the world, just like she. It hurt to think. To remember why she had ever left. Too many years had gone by, too much had happened, to even try to fix her mistakes. It had been so long since she’d been back. 

She’d left for college, chasing the idea of change. “Change is good,” her teachers told her, “it allows you to explore who you want to be.” She had already known who she wanted to be. She wanted to be the person who wakes up early every morning to see the sun一 to see the still water, undisturbed by incoming winds. Under the pressure of school and friends, she began to strive for success. Not her own view of success, just the one that people told her was important.

She’d ended up in a city. A big, bustling city that was filled with people and clouds and gray. The towering buildings and honking cars were daunting. And even though the city was filled with people, she found no one to turn to. A stiff, uncomfortable inkling presided in the deep recesses of her mind, which she quickly dismissed as the shock of living in a new place, but it never seemed to go away.

A heavy smog seemed to blanket her mind, mirroring the blocky jungle around her. The longer she stayed, the more she realized she was not where she belonged. How could anyone feel at home in a town built of legos, full of right angles and straight lines? Nothing was natural. Not even the people.

Years past and she still hadn’t seen a sunrise like the one she’d had at home. To be honest, she had barely seen the sun at all. Her work kept her constantly busy and she often didn’t wake up until her alarm went off the next morning. The small balcony, barely attached to her peeling apartment walls, was cramped and covered in cobwebs. Certainly not the best place to relax, especially if the only view was gum-covered streets and her neighbours’ argument about who’d forgotten to clean the dishes last night.

Still, she couldn’t have left. Not even when she’d felt so scared that she screamed into her featherless pillow. She couldn’t face her parents after she’d thrown it all away. She had spent years listening to her teachers preach the dangers of peer pressure, as they simultaneously contradicted their words with new social norms and constricting futures. Her parents had supported her throughout her life, growing confused and concerned when she began to drift away. The strange thing was that she’d had nothing to drift towards. She was so unhappy with her own choices that she’d felt bad discussing them with the two people she was closest with.

Now it was too late. She curled her knees back into her chest, the same position as years before, but for completely different reasons. It used to protect her from the glittering cold, now it just halfheartedly attempted to squeeze her sadness out from her heart. 

Her parents had been the light of her life, the only people she felt the need to please. She supposed that was all over now. A heartbreaking call had ended the possibility of ever coming back. A sanctuary, her home, that used to be her comfort in times of need, now was a place as unsettling as the city. The whole place was filled with memories, ones that used to be happy but were now tinged with the blue of sadness. 

The sky was darkening, the moon beginning to glint off of the lake, emerging from the snowy mountains and star-sprinkled sky. She peered over her sweater, watching the orange fade into the deep purple-blue of the night’s domain. The midnight sky, the perfect replica of underworld darkness, was hidden, mysterious, and burning with hundreds of fires.