《Portal to Regret》 Chapter 1: The night it all changed I remember the night it all changed. I woke up, drenched in sweat, my bladder screaming at me. It was a winter night, but it felt like I was trapped in a sauna, my pyjamas stuck to me like a second skin. And despite my skin burning up, my core still felt like ice. Forced to leave the comfort of my bed, I teetered through the darkness, the layout of the room and the spread of my organised mess familiar in my mind. I was a sensitive sleeper, so I liked having my room pitch black. My parents, on the other hand, kept the house lit like the midday sun, so it felt like I was exiting a cave when I opened my bedroom door. The explosion of light was blinding, and I clenched my eyes shut, futilely fighting to stop sleep from slipping away as I blundered through the hallway, seeking refuge in the bathroom. The door a shield against the blinding force, I completed my business in darkness with my brain on autopilot, eyes half closed, trying to preserve the sensation of sleep that would allow me to drift readily into dreams, adding a vignette to my wakefulness. Looking up at the mirror above the sink, the effect took on a frosty quality, perhaps the result of condensation in the frigid air. I fumbled for a cloth from the towel rack and started haphazardly wiping the surface of the mirror. Mother was very particular about bathroom etiquette, and if she found water on the floor, the toilet seat not down, or in this case, condensation on the mirror, I would get an earful. The condensation didn''t seem to clear so I increased the pressure I applied with the towel, circular motions gradually growing more determined: rougher, harder, faster. "What on earth?" I murmured to myself, confused. The cloth still felt dry to the touch, and when I moved in for closer inspection, I realised the haze also remained. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I stood there blinking at the mirror, until, almost imperceptibly at first, a shadow of a reflection emerged beneath the fog. Had my brain been fully awake, the dry cloth, still misty mirror and shadow would have been dead giveaways that this wasn''t normal, but I was still half asleep ¡ª suppressing my mind even. In fact, I was in denial, attributing the strangeness to my sleep-delirious self: the cloth could have been really absorbent, the shadow a result of the dark room, and the mist just blurry vision. I reached out, try¡ª "¡ªAaagh!" Air rushed out of my lungs and I jerked backwards, flailing around, stumbling. The shadow wasn''t my reflection, it was the silhouette of a woman. No face, no features, no definition. A dark mass somehow staring at me. Fear coursed through my veins, and my hands reached for the switch, bathing the room with the light I''d been staunchly avoiding. My head snapped back to the mirror, palms raised as though they''d protect me from the spectre, but the mysterious shadow was gone, leaving only my wide-eyed reflection staring back at me, cowering behind his own arms. The thrumming of my heart filled the silence of the room, and I forced myself to speak to stop its suffocating effect. "What... was that?" I managed to wheeze. With a mixture of relief and apprehension churning in my stomach, I cautiously approached the mirror, my weight on the balls of my feet in case I needed to leap back. The mirror was¡­ normal ¡ª cool to the touch and moist. Was it a fever dream, perhaps? I was ill, so that was the likeliest explanation. The alternative¡­ What was the alternative? A ghost? Sleep deprivation? Someone''s power? I hadn''t changed yet, so it couldn''t have been me. My mind raced through the possibilities as I stared at my reflection, my eyes occasionally flitting around the reflective canvas for signs of something supernatural. That''s when I heard it: the faint creaking of floorboards, slowly getting louder, getting closer¡ª Knock, Knock. I startled hard, my trepidations now targeting the door. Someone was outside. Chapter 2: Spider My eyes started stinging, the fluorescent bulb bleary to my sight, though I refused to blink, even for a second. I kept my breathing steady so I could listen for signs of life, but besides the beating of my heart, I could hear nothing. No sound, no movement, no anything ¡ª as if the world had gone still. I had to pinch myself to make sure it hadn''t, though I''m not sure it proved anything other than I was awake. The thud I had heard moments ago echoed in my mind. Was it a knock? Or just my imagination? I was almost certain it was real, but the outside world felt so silent that doubt slithered into my mind. I stood there staring at the door for what felt like an eternity¨C long enough that my calves started to burn, the weight on my tiptoes taking their toll, though it probably wasn''t longer than a minute¡ªtime had a peculiar way of seemingly stretching in moments like this. It didn''t matter how long I looked; it wasn''t like I could see beyond the surface of the door. Staring only made me appreciate the wooden grains beneath the white gloss paint. More importantly, there was still no sound. Perhaps it was just the house making noise; old houses tended to do that. I let myself relax, feet flat on the ground again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of chlorine, synthetic lemons, and cleaning products wafted into my nose, snapping me back to the present and oddly heightening my senses. "There''s nothing there." I reassured myself by speaking out loud, the sound of my voice a comfort in the eerie silence."If there was, it would have made more noise." Still, I picked up the nearby mop as a weapon ¡ª failing to prepare was preparing to fail after all. Armed (but still not dangerous), I cautiously moved towards the door. Just inching closer made my heart thump faster. My fingers extended, closing on the bolt, until I heard a ¡ª Click. My hand gripped the wooden weapon tighter, my breath held in suspense. Nothing happened. "Of course nothing happened," I muttered, half to convince myself, half to dispel the lingering tension in the air. Scolding myself for being a wimp, I? mustered the courage to swing open the door. "Ack!" A silent scream escaped my lips, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. A woman was standing motionless before me, arms crossed, back to the wall, jet black hair striking against her pale complexion and white nightgown. Her eyes were sunken from sleeplessness and bored into mine with unspoken disapproval. "What''s wrong with you?" she said dryly, quirking an eyebrow. "Seen a ghost?" "Yeah, you!" My voice quavered, betraying a hint of fear behind the exclamation. "What are you doing?!" ¡°What most people do when they''re standing outside bathrooms. Waiting to go in. Why aren''t you wearing a top¡­¡± her eyes glanced over the mop I reflexively raised as a makeshift spear. ¡°And why are you holding the mop like that?¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "The reason most people do." I barely paid attention to the question, my mind still reeling from surprise. "And that is?" she prodded. "Uh¨Cto clean the floor?" "Mhm. So¡­ are you planning on standing there, or can I have a turn?" "A turn with what?" "The bathroom¡­" "Oh. Sorry." I returned the mop to its designated corner before making my way towards the exit. In passing, I stole a swift glance at the mirror, taking in the fleeting reflection ¡ª my reflection. It greeted me as normal behind the curtain of condensation instead of whatever spectre I had seen before. "Is there a spider in there?" "A what?" "A spider. Little thing with eight legs and shoots ¡ª" "I know what a spider is, Mum," I said, exasperation and confusion heavy in my voice. "Why are you asking?" "Because you screamed like you saw a spider." Her eyes swept over me again, quietly adding, "the last time you saw one, you peed yourself." Mum walked into the room without waiting for a response, so she didn''t see me roll my eyes. I was afraid of spiders, sure, but I was thirteen. I wouldn''t have wet myself. "No spider," I replied. "So why did you¡ª," her words broke off abruptly, morphing into a weary yawn. "Nevermind, Kalak. Go to bed." She then closed the bathroom door, dismissing me, leaving me to wander back to my room. I managed to get to the entrance when I heard her belatedly yell, "you didn''t clean the mirror!" "Oops." Back in my sanctuary, I left the door slightly ajar, allowing a warm, yellow hue to spill from the passage light. It resembled winter twilight, with shadows that seemingly danced in my mind''s eye. Still, after the little scare in the bathroom, enveloping myself in darkness felt ill-advised, and though the shadows flickered in the dimly lit room, I could at least discern shapes and contours. Were the room pitch black, my imagination would have run wild. The simplest solution to my troubles was for the morning to come quickly, so I scurried for the protection of my bed. It was a warm embrace, welcoming to even my feverish self. The sweat and cold air worked wonders to cool down my super-heated body. Settled in, I let out a deliberate exhale to calm down my still-racing heart. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to sink into the comfort of my surroundings. And when I next opened my eyes, nothing had changed: it was the same night, same hour, same minute. Sleep had not come. If turning the bathroom light hadn''t caused sleep to flee, then finding Mum standing outside certainly had. I was desperate enough that I started counting sheep until I lost focus and repeated the same number three times. Then I moved on to regurgitating math equations, hoping to tire my brain out, but my mind kept spiralling back to the shadow I saw in the mirror. What was it? The figure''s outline materialised in my mind, and I realised its strange resemblance to Mum. It made me chuckle considering how ghostly she''d looked waking up so late. The laugh was cut short when I heard the bathroom door open, trailed by the creaking floorboards I had heard earlier; it was the sound of footsteps as Mum made her way back into her room. I could tell it was her. Footsteps held distinctive signatures, like a unique blend of weight and pace that defined a person. I followed the noise until a resounding thud reverberated through the house, originating from the location of her bedroom. "That was definitely mum," I said aloud, finding company in my voice. A ghost wouldn''t have made so much noise, nor would a burglar. Half convinced, I redirected my focus back to falling asleep, turning to my right side for the most comfortable sleeping position. That''s when I saw it ¡ª eight limbs slowly crawling below the corner of the curtain ¡ª and I felt an involuntary trickle of warmth flow between my legs. Chapter 3: Breakfast "How ¡®you feeling champ?" Dad asked, looking over the glasses perched on his nose. "Tired." I yawned, joining him at the breakfast table while rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes. "And still ill." "It''s just an excuse to not go to school," mum said from the kitchen. "He looks terrible, Hun; give him the benefit of the doubt." He gave me an exaggerated wink, a mischievous glint in his eyes, clearly thinking I was faking my illness too. I could only sigh in response. I felt too exhausted to argue, and whether they believed me or not, they wouldn''t force me to go to school. "You can''t keep doing this, Mallory. You''re spoiling him." "Look at the kid," dad argued. "It looks like he didn''t sleep all night." She walked into the room, a tray of eggy bread in her hand. ¡°Probably up all night after seeing a spider,¡± she muttered, placing the tray on the table and then her palm against my forehead. ¡°Oh. You are still ill.¡± "I told you," dad and I said simultaneously, eliciting a chuckle from him. "You don''t think it''s the change, do you?" "Too early." He exchanged the morning paper for a plate from the tray. "He''s only¡­ what? Eleven?" "Hey!" I interrupted. "I''m thirteen!" "Sorry, champ." Mum shook her head slightly in disbelief. "I can''t believe you don''t know how old your son is, let alone his birthday." "I do." His voice rose in pitch, feigning indignation. "He''s thirteen, aren''t you Kalak?" I couldn''t say it surprised me that dad didn''t know my birthday, but not knowing my age was a step too far, and I wanted to get him back for that. "You... remembered it''s my birthday today, right?" I fibbed, a grin stretching across my face as I watched his pale skin take on a more ghostly hue. "I hope you got me a gift." "O-of course I did"¡ªdad turned towards mum with a flash of panic in his eyes¡ª"didn''t we hun?". Mum shared my amusement, responding with a playful laugh of her own. "We? I''m sure you did," she teased. "I''ve been buying my own gifts for him for the last thirteen years." He stared at her like a kicked puppy, and perhaps feeling sympathy, she diverted the conversation with a subtle throat-clearing. "As I was saying, you don''t think it''s the change, do you?" "I don''t know. It could be, I guess." He turned to address me, the contemplative look on his face combined with his spectacles and salt and pepper hair making him seem a decade wiser. "Had any strange impulses recently? Like a need to go running, for example?" I shook my head, my mouth still full with breakfast. "He might not be a speedstar, you know," mum said. "He could take after me. Be a cool kid." I almost choked with surprise while dad, sporting a grin on his face, shook his head, unimpressed with the pun. "You haven''t seen him in track and field," dad said. "With my genes and that natural talent, I bet he''s guaranteed to be a speedstar." If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "That''s not what Okapi said," mum replied lightly. "The crazy doctor? I wouldn''t take her word for anything." "She''s an accomplished researcher, you know." Dad scoffed at the idea. It was the beginning of a debate that I had heard plenty of times before. She was "cold and robotic, and a bad influence," and that mum shouldn''t "associate with that creep." Having never met the woman and not being interested in their petty squabble, I turned my attention to the food before me to drown out the noise. It tasted fluffy, the brioche and butter doing the heavy lifting, but it needed a little sugar. "...Kalak to the doctor''s." The mention of my name pulled me back to the conversation at hand. "Sorry, what?" I asked. "I''m not happy with this, but fine." Dad''s reply didn''t help my confusion, but from the way he returned back to the paper, I could tell mum had gotten her way. "I''ll be taking you to the doctor''s," mum answered. "You''ve been ill for almost a week. If it isn''t your change, then it''s about time you get some antibiotics or something." "It''s not going to help but¡ª" Dad cut his sentence short with a stare from mother. "Kalak, we''ll leave after lunch." "Fiiinnne," I said, drawing out the words with my mouth full. "Why not just get over-the-counter meds?" Dad started again. "Why can''t I just get a second opinion from a professional?" "You''re more than welcome to. I just don''t think it''s worth their time." "Okapi would love us stopping by. She hasn''t met Kalak yet either." I tuned out the conversation again, indulging in the adequately sweetened eggy bread. The bickering about the woman was inevitably about to spark once more, so I focused on sorting through my own thoughts while I ate. I had conflicting feelings about going to the doctor. On the one hand, I didn''t want to go; I wanted to curl up in bed and eat ice cream, despite it being winter. Whether I was going through the change or not, a doctor''s visit wouldn''t have changed anything. On the other hand, I couldn''t stop my leg from bouncing, the idea of confirming I would get my gift soon making me jittery ¡ª though it could have been the excess sugar. I immersed myself in the idea of being a speedstar, imagining the wind in my face, running through my hair, and the sensation of adrenaline in my blood, pumping through my veins. I found myself enticed. And though the allure of dad¡¯s gift was tempting, mum''s gift was nothing to scoff at; she boasted the ability to freeze time for a short duration ¡ª from my perspective, it resembled teleportation. A more powerful, but also more limited ability than dads, who could travel long distances at the speed of a car. I silently giggled to myself, amused as I considered their gifts. Dad travelled faster whereas mum made others travel slower ¡ª infinitesimally slow, to be accurate. Mum could walk to a destination faster than dad could run, and dad would superheat after using his gift whereas mum would physically freeze (when overwhelmed). They were equal and opposites in many ways, but despite the differences, both their powers echoed the same age-old saying: ¡°the greater the gift, the greater its consequence.¡± It was the gods'' way of balancing the scales, though I don¡¯t know how much I believed that. The idea that using powers continuously wasn''t sustainable seemed intuitive to me ¡ª there was a reason we didn''t run everywhere. If I could have chosen my gift, it would have been teleportation. Freezing time had its appeal, but I didn¡¯t like its limitations ¡ª you were bound to what you could physically achieve in those fleeting moments. Dad, on the other hand, had self-imposed limits, and pushing past them risked snapping bones or tearing muscles; worse was the prospect of falling at those speeds. I shifted my thoughts back to teleportation, the image of bloody insides spilling out and torn limbs not the most appetizing thing to entertain while trying to enjoy my meal. Teleporting felt risk free. Sure, it wouldn''t help trying to catch a falling cup, but I could sleep until the very last minute and teleport straight to school. Any gift related to speed that allowed me to achieve that was a victory in my book, but of all the options, teleportation seemed like the jackpot. Yes, I nodded firmly to myself, it was the best. It also fell within the remit of the god of speed¡­ right? The uncertainty broke me out of my daydream and I looked up at my parents, still bickering over something "¡ª we all know the fever comes during the change," mum said. "We don''t know; we think. And that''s from a series of observations, not whatever that sociopath does." "Observation and research go hand in hand. She researches by noting down observations. And she''s not a sociopath, just misunderstood." "Her eyes look like dead fish and she looks like she''d steal candy from a baby for research." "Now you''re just being silly." "I¡­ just don''t like her." Okapi. They were still arguing about Okapi, and I had finished eating my distraction. It was time to take my leave. "Thank you for the breakfast. Oh, and don''t forget my gift, Dad!" Chapter 4: Changing "Are we going to the sociopath''s place, then?" I asked, putting on the car''s seat belt. "Kalak! You don''t go around calling people that," mum reprimanded. "But that''s what dad said." "Dad was wrong to say that. Just because other people do something wrong doesn''t mean you can too." "Yes, mum." My eyes rolled on reflex and I counted myself lucky that she didn¡¯t see from the rear-view mirror, or the lecture would have continued. "So, are we going to her place, then?" "Yes, just to see what she thinks. We''ll go to the paediatrician afterwards." "Then why are we visiting the so- the first doctor?" Mum sighed. "Okapi isn''t a regular doctor. She has a doctorate, making her a doctor, but she''s not like the hospital kind. She knows a lot about gifts, but she can''t prescribe medicine." I hummed in response, letting my voice blend with the rhythmic purr of the car engine as mum started the ignition. It was an oddly comforting sound that, combined with the gentle rocking motion whilst the car started moving, made my eyelids feel heavy. It only took a few minutes before I gave in and closed my eyes, resting my head against the cool glass. And a few more minutes after that, I reluctantly opened them again, the blasted light from the sun determined to keep me awake, flashing between the canopy of leaves. I was deprived of sleep yet again, and so I turned my gaze to the outside world and watched the scenery blur by; evergreen trees dancing in a kaleidoscope of swirling needles and textured bark. ¡°Bloody rain,¡± Mum swore under her breath as a white sedan blitzed past us, and my attention shifted to the side-view mirror, half expecting a police car to be in pursuit. "I wonder where he''s going," I mused, finding only the cerulean sides of our car instead. "To an early grave," mum replied, her voice disapproving. Our car came to a gradual stop, and I glanced up at the traffic light before returning to the reflected world. The other driver must''ve run the red. If he could teleport, he wouldn''t have needed to ¡ª my thought trailed off as the mirror began to turn misty before my eyes. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. I blinked firmly, dispelling any drowsiness before proceeding to rub the window, ensuring the fog wasn''t from my breath. It wasn''t. Was the outside getting colder? The car lurched forward again, but my eyes remained transfixed with the mirror, watching the collage of motion turn cloudy, the sharp outlines of trees become less distinct and dissolve into a swirling mist. It spun faster and faster, increasing in frenzy, turning into a vortex. And then it cleared. Almost as abruptly as it had transformed, the side mirror revealed the familiar sight of the asphalt road and towering spruce trees, but there was a glaring difference: the side of the car was no longer blue, but white, marred by unsettling red stains. My mind reeled back to the memories of the night and I anxiously called out, "Mum? There¡¯s something wrong with the mirror." "The mirror?" she repeated. "What''s wrong with it?" "It''s¡­ white." "What does that mean?" "Just look. Please?" "This ¡®better not be a prank." "It''s not." She let out a small sigh. "It looks fine." "Did you look?" "Yes," she reassured me. "The side one," I said, turning to face her in the rearview mirror. "The one on¡ª" The half-formed sentence caught in my throat, choked by sheer terror as my gaze met where hers should be in the reflection, her azure eyes a hollow void and pale skin an ebony black. The distorted figure of a man had replaced mum''s reflection, his lips curled in a sinister smile. My heart thundered in my chest, and I instinctively shut my eyes tight. Whimpered prayers escaped my lips, and my breathing turned into ragged gasps. "Kalak. Hey, Kalak!" Something grabbed my knees, and I jolted in surprise. "Kalak? What''s wrong with you?" Mum''s pleading voice finally pierced through my terror, and I stammered in response. "Th- the mirrors." "There''s nothing wrong with the mirrors." Her voice took on a soothing tone. "Look at me. Sweetie, look at me," she repeated gently, and I cracked my eyes open to find her palms on my knees, and her body contorted so she could face me in the back seat, concern etched into her brow. "Everything''s fine." My eyes flickered to the rearview mirror, finding the chandeliered layers of mum''s black hair before my gaze darted to the side mirror where the cerulean of the car had returned. ¡°See?¡± Mum said, regaining my attention. "Everything''s fine, hun." "Th-there¡­ was a man... in the mirror." I paused to take in a deep breath, trying to regain control of my racing heart. "Y-you weren''t there. He took your reflection." I almost jumped when in an instant, mom was facing the road again, her hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, their reassuring weight no longer on my knees. Despite seeing her gift in action many times before, it was still jarringly abrupt. "I think it''s your power, hun,¡± she said, her brows furrowed in the reflection. ¡°I think you''re changing." Chapter 5: Doctors visit Apart from my sporadic sobs, the remainder of the car journey unfolded in silence. Mum repeatedly cast concerned glances my way; I could sense them from the periphery of my vision, but I didn''t meet her gaze. I kept my eyes away from the mirrors, glued to the back seat; the fabric surprisingly interesting to mindlessly stare at. "We''re here, Kalak." She went around and opened the door to my right. "Come on Hun, let''s see what Okapi says." I reluctantly got out of the car, my legs unsteady beneath my weight. "Look here." Gently, Mum lifted my chin towards the grey clouds. With a tender touch, she rubbed my face with a wipe, erasing the evidence of my tears that had cascaded down my cheeks. "Hey, don''t look so sad. You should be excited. You''re getting your gift soon," mum said cheerfully. I didn''t reply, unsure of whether I wanted whatever gift I was manifesting. We began making our way towards a four tiered office complex and Mum began recounting her own experience with the change, how afraid she was when the world stopped moving, and how afraid her parents were when she froze midway through a mundane task. "¡ªshouldn''t be afraid of your power." She then let go of my hand and took her phone out of her bag. "Right, I think this is the spot." I averted my gaze to the ground while mum presumably called the doctor. The expansive glass panes showed our reflection: gloves, parka jacket, scarf, and despite the winter¡¯s chill and the cosy image, I broke into a sweat imagining the apparition joining us. That fear, coupled with whatever this illness was, seemed to distort my world as my knees struggled to hold my weight and my feet floundered to find their proper position beneath me. "¡ª next to an empty podiatrist. Okay. Yes. We''ll see you there." She hung up the phone. "Come on, Kalak, it''s the big building on the left." Her hand reached out for mine, tugging me gently along behind her, and though her instructions had suggested that we were heading to the left, my disoriented senses stubbornly insisted otherwise. In fact, moving left or right, forwards or backwards, in any direction felt reciprocally countered ¡ª unproductive, and nauseating. I closed my eyes to combat the rising bile, a docile doll for mum to drag about. When the motion stopped, I found myself inside the musty, old tower block while mum approached the bored receptionist who shot me a quick, sympathetic smile; I must''ve looked like a mess. The lady gave us directions and a badge before we made our way through a labyrinth of twists and turns, as though our destination was intended to be hidden. In the end, we found ourselves in a narrow hallway leading to nowhere. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "I was sure she said it''s this way¡­" mum said quietly. "Kalak, do you see an elevator? A working one?" She clarified, as I pointed to a decrepit lift clearly not fit for use. "Ah, ma''am!" The receptionist from earlier ran towards us. "I''m so sorry," she panted. "I sent you the wrong way¡­ I''m new here." She gave an apologetic smile. "If you''ll follow me¡­ I''ll take you up." She maintained the steady stream of apologies throughout the brief journey, her words echoing in the confined space of the correct elevator to the first floor. The apologies made it feel like I had done something wrong. "That was awkward," mum said when we were finally alone. "Yeah." My eyes swept across the small, unassuming, white room, reminiscent of a dentist''s office, except without the diagrams of poorly maintained teeth next to shiny pearls. There were no posters at all. This room was just¡­ bland: a solitary, grey, fabric corner sofa stood facing an unmanned reception desk with a modest glass coffee table in between, conspicuously devoid of the cups or magazines you would expect. It was like the unit was just purchased, a blank canvas waiting for its owner to give it life. That also explained why the lady guided us here ¡ª we would have walked past it given the absence of¡­ well, everything. There was no other ''patient'', no sign of staff, no presence of life. It felt eerie, making me start a conversation so I didn¡¯t feel alone. "Why isn''t anyone else here?" "Hmm¡­ ¡®might just be a quiet day,¡± Mum answered absently. ¡°It''s also lunch time." I nodded in response, though it didn''t help the peculiar unease I felt. I could only be glad that there were no mirrors here too, or I would have felt worse. "Elara, ¡®a pleasure to see you again," a voice called out, and Mum stood up, turning to greet a tall, slender looking woman who¡¯d just entered the room. "Chesil, ¡®lovely to see you too." Mum reached in for an embrace before switching to a handshake midway as the doctor extended her palm. It was an awkward interaction, but Okapi remained indifferent, turning instead to regard me. "And you must be Kalak." She gave a smile that didn''t quite reach her grey eyes. "Let''s go in, shall we?" Okapi produced a set of keys and unlocked the only door in the room before ushering us in. Inside was almost as bare as the outside. There was a small bookshelf tucked in the corner of the room, a wooden desk with a pile of papers meticulously stacked, and in the centre of the room ¡ª the focal point ¡ª there was a reclined, padded chair, also like a dentist¡¯s. "Take a seat, Kalak." Okapi clicked her pen. "Let''s talk about why you''re here today." Chapter 6: Him I recounted my experiences of the past day to the sounds of furious scribbling; the doctor wandering around the room either making notes or trying to distract me. Meanwhile, mum sat next to my reclined chair and listened quietly, having been scolded by the note-taking automaton. ¡°Memories are susceptible to change. Interference will influence how he thinks of his experience, which will influence how he describes it,¡± she¡¯d said, as if it explained anything, though mum gave the doctor a nod of understanding and left me to regale the events without further prompting. It just led to periods of loud silence while I thought of what to say, making the entire experience that much more awkward. When I had finished the story, narrating up to the moment we had walked into the room, the doctor finally began asking questions, some of which she should''ve already known the answers to. Did I have siblings? What were my parent¡¯s gifts? What were their jobs? Then she moved onto open ended questions about me. What did people think of me, and what did I like and not like about myself? It was an introspective experience to say the least, and by the time she was done, I suspected she knew me better than some of my classmates. ¡°So?¡± Mum said. ¡°Is he changing?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Okapi responded, not bothering to look up from her clipboard. ¡°And the fever, is it related to the change?¡± ¡°Of course it is. Sweating in the manner he described would''ve meant the fever was breaking, and yet he''s still ill.¡± ¡°When will he stop being ill?¡± ¡°When the change is completed.¡± She finally looked up from her notes, turning to make eye contact. ¡°¡®Which should be soon.¡± ¡°Will¨C¡± ¡°What gift do I have?¡± I interrupted, asking the more important question. ¡°Is it related to the ghosts I saw?¡± ¡°I don''t believe they''re ghosts, but yes, it is,¡± the doctor answered. ¡°I believe I know what your gift is, but I won¡¯t tell you. If I¡ª¡± ¡°Why not?!¡± ¡°Kalak, don¡¯t interrupt like that,¡± mum chided, before turning to apologise to Okapi. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, he¡¯s not usually like this.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± the doctor chuckled, the sound like a hollow chime of a bell. ¡°My daughter isn''t too different.¡± She then turned to look at me, a wintry smile on her lightly freckled face. I could see why dad didn¡¯t like her. She was a pretty woman, but something about her cold grey eyes and empty laugh gave me the creeps, like she was a possessed doll masquerading emotions. ¡°As I was saying, Kalak, I''m not going to tell you what I think your gift is. If I did, I may influence the result. During the change, powers are in a state of flux. Unstable, rather. You shouldn¡¯t worry about your gift. I¡¯m sure you will be quite pleased with it.¡± Hearing that from the lady with dead fish eyes didn¡¯t give me much comfort. ¡°Is it a blessing from the god of speed, at least?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And it''s to do with mirrors?¡± I asked, more confused than curious. ¡°Perhaps.¡± The doctor then spoke to mum in a low voice, presumably about me, before handing her a prescription for some over-the-counter medicine on a piece of paper. ¡°It would have been great if you¡¯d brought him in earlier,¡± Okapi said aloud. ¡°I''ve just started looking at the biomechanics of the change.¡± ¡°If we¡¯d known he was changing, we certainly would have,¡± mum replied, a trace of guilt in her voice. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°He''s in the later stages of the change, but it would still be helpful to see him again in the next few days. He would be invaluable for my research.¡± ¡°Of course! It¡¯s the least we can do.¡± ¡°That is kind of you. I''m sure you''re busy though.¡± ¡°No, no, don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m sure we can drop by for half an hour tomorrow.¡± The doctor chuckled again, something akin to nervous laughter. ¡°It would be a little longer than half an hour.¡± ¡°Ah. Right¡­¡± ¡°If it makes it any easier, you can drop Kalak off and pick him up again?¡± She suggested, before shaking her head slightly and placing a hand on Mum''s arm. ¡°What am I saying? Don¡¯t worry about it, Elara.¡± ¡°Nonsense. You¡¯ve just given us so much of your time. I¡¯m sure I could drop him off for a few hours. How about that Kalak?¡± She turned to look at me, the forced smile on her face wordlessly communicating that ¡°no¡± was an unacceptable answer. ¡°That sounds great, mum!¡± I replied with false enthusiasm.
The rest of the morning¡¯s journey was thankfully less eventful than the drive to Okapi¡¯s clinic. We made a brief visit to the paediatrician''s office, where the doctor cast a quick glance at me before assuring mum I''d get better on my own, and then a stop at the pharmacy to pick up whatever medicine Dr. Okapi had suggested. Mum remained tight-lipped about their discussion, though I was certain she knew what gift I was developing despite her pretending otherwise. Convinced, I even resorted to eavesdropping on her conversation with dad when he came back from work. I stood on my tiptoes by the stairs, pressing one ear against the thin wall, only to jump when mum suddenly appeared in front of me with a frown on her face. It did confirm my suspicions, however; if it were a regular conversation, mum wouldn''t have bothered using her gift to stop me from listening. Undeterred, I tried my luck again in the evening. Mum was in the kitchen preparing dinner, and dad was lying down on the living room sofa, watching TV ¡ª it was the opportune moment to strike. ¡°Hi dad.¡± I casually walked into the room and casually took my usual position on the armchair adjacent to him. ¡°Hey champ. ¡®How you feeling?¡± ¡°I¡¯m feeling alright,¡± I replied ¡ª casually. ¡°Yeah? I heard you had a pretty rough morning,¡± he said, adjusting his position to get a clearer look at my face. ¡°¡®And rough night,¡± he belatedly added. This was my chance. All I had to do was make him talk. ¡°Yeah, some strange things happened.¡± I slumped into the chair, relaxing myself, trying to look disinterested. ¡°What did mum tell you?¡± "Nothing in much detail. You''ve been seeing things in the mirrors?" I hummed in acknowledgement. ¡°I''m changing." Then, realising my folly, I raised the pitch of my voice in excitement to add, "I''m going to be faster than you!" "Oh?" He quirked a questioning eyebrow. "And how''s that?" "Don''t you know what my gift is?!" "Nope. ''Want to tell me?" I kept my face even, my heart thumping hard in my chest. Dad could¡¯ve been lying, and if he wasn''t going to tell me outright, I just had to glean information from what he did say. ¡°Oh. I thought mum told you.¡± The disappointment in my voice was genuine, and I let it show, laying the foundation for my next trap ¡ª targeting dad''s competitive ego. ¡°Have a guess. What do you think my gift is? The hint is it¡¯s related to speed." "A speedstar?" ¡°Noooo, you¡¯re not even trying,¡± I moaned. ¡°A speedstar doesn''t have anything to do with mirrors.¡± ¡°Oh, right!¡± He turned to the TV screen, pondering for a moment. ¡°I don''t know then¡­ travelling via reflections? Like turning into a beam of light and reflecting off a mirror." I hummed at the possibility. I had read about people with elemental powers turning into fire, water, and even smoke, so turning into light felt plausible. It seemed like a roundabout way to travel at the speed of light, but gifts were strange like that sometimes. If dad were right, then it gave credibility to the doctor''s statement that it wasn''t a gift I would complain about. And It also felt like something the god of speed would bestow. This led me to my next question. How far could I see through a mirror? After all, it would determine how far I''d be able to travel. "Am I right?" Dad prodded in my silence. "Hmm? Oh. Nope." I studied his face closer, noticing a fleeting shadow of disappointment. Did he really not know? "Hey, love, can you prep the table, please?" Mum shouted from the kitchen. "Well, I gotta run," dad smirked. "Let me know when you want to tell me, or better yet, when you want to race." He then gave a wink before flashing off to the dining room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and News2D running in the background. I moved to turn it off, searching the sofa dad had been lying on for the remote when the voice of the anchor caught my attention. "¡ªpolice are advising extreme caution to our viewers. If you spot the sedan, DO NOT approach the vehicle or the individual shown on your screens. If you have any information relevant to this case, please call 55¡ª¡± My breath caught in my throat, and my body froze in shock. That car, that face, with his dark skin, strange eyes, and sinister smile ¡ª he had driven past us, and I had seen him in our rear-view-mirror. ¡°Mum!¡± She appeared by my side in an instant, dad trailing behind her. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Kal?¡± I gestured towards the screen, my words faltering as I tried to speak. ¡°It''s¡­him. I saw him.¡± Chapter 7: Mirror Aside from the clinking of cutlery, dinner remained an unusually quiet affair. Dad avoided his regular banter, the tension in the room palpable, while mum was preoccupied thinking about me. I could tell by the subtle glances she cast in my direction while she picked at her food. I didn¡¯t pay any of it much attention, my own mind busy grappling with what I had seen in the car ¡ª the man in the mirror. I could still feel his lifeless eyes bore into me as though he''d seen me too, and for whatever sadistic reason, he wanted me to know. The scene replayed in my mind, the corners of his mouth slowly curling upwards, his lips parting and skin stretching taut, then pulled even further as if to tear his own face apart. They reached for his earlobes, distorting his face. His exhale grew heavy, his inhale a sharp hiss, louder and louder ¡ª his breath ragged and foul. Lingering. Reaching. ¡°Hello, Kalak.¡± I felt my hair bristle to the sound of my name, and I clutched the utensils in my hand tighter, fear constricting around my chest in return. "Kalak? Hello?" Dad probed, waving his hand in front of my face and snapping me out of the nightmare. "¡¯You alright champ? You''re looking a little pale." "Huh?" I quickly scanned my left, finding mum''s seat vacant and her plate gone. She was in the kitchen, and an odd sense of relief washed over me, thankful she didn¡¯t witness the episode. I turned back to address dad, my mind drawing a blank in its search for a response. "I''m¡­ I was just thinking." He nodded. "¡¯Want to tell me what of?" "¡¯M-my gift. I was just wondering what my gift is." "I''m sure you''ll figure it out." He gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze, then stood up and started stacking the empty plates. "Don''t think too hard about it. Gifts are intuitive things. You''ll get a gut feeling about what it is, and when you''re ready, we can have a race." Then, with a mischievous wink, he blurred away. "Oh¡­" I felt my face flush with the realisation of the mistake I''d made ¡ª I had told dad I already knew what my gift was.
In the oddly serene confines of a sterile white room, I nestled into a sofa and began soothing the hesitation and anticipation swirling in my stomach. I didn''t know what Dr. Okapi had planned for me, but I imagined it would provide insights, or better yet, outright reveal the nature of my gift. Still, I couldn''t help but wonder if I was ready to know. Gifts were supposed to feel like second nature, and the fact that my body hadn¡¯t told me what power I had manifested suggested I wasn''t ready. "Sit properly, Kal," mum chastised. I half-heartedly adjusted my slouch. It wasn''t like anyone would care, and given how little there was to do, being bored to sleep felt like an excusable offence. Perhaps the lack of everything was intentional, to allow the mind to wander and relax. Or maybe not. The owners likely didn''t want to spend any money on a place no one attended, not even the doctor herself. We waited a quarter of an hour before she decided to show up, strolling into the room like she owned the place; I mean, she probably did, but the fact that she was arriving at eleven in the morning made me question if she actually did any work. "Elara, thank you for stopping by." "Chesil," Mum greeted, standing to shake hands and thank the doctor for her time. It all felt so formal and made me wonder whether they were even really friends. Surprisingly, it was mum who transitioned to business talk. "You were right about his gift," she said, her voice heavy with worry. "Oh? Has he stabilised then?" "No, he seems to be on the mend. But the journey here yesterday... Well, you guessed¡­ you know. And then yesterday at dinner, Kalak inadvertently revealed where." I listened attentively to mum''s riddles, trying to glean whatever information I could, but the fragmented nature of them left me confused. The doctor on the other hand, nodded along, though she had the key to the enigma ¡ª knowledge about my gift. "Thank you Elara, that was quite insightful," Dr. Okapi said. "Powers have limits and side effects, as you¡¯re well aware. They are, in a sense, a safety mechanism. In your case, if you didn¡¯t have your time limit, the world would freeze forever." "Yeah¡­ that wouldn''t be fun," mum admitted with a grimace. "Exactly. So as concerning as Kalak''s powers are, I wouldn''t worry too much. He''ll have safety mechanisms of his own.¡± "Thank you, Chesil." Mum gave the doctor a grateful smile before turning to embrace me. "I''ll see you in a few hours. Behave, okay?" Then she left me alone with the doctor along with an uncomfortable silence. "So¡­ what are we going to do today?" "We''ll begin with taking a few measurements: temperature, heart rate, blood pressure..." She started listing off the tests and jotting them on her clipboard, but my attention slowly waned as the tide of disappointment grew. "¡ªAnd once we do that, Kalak," the doctor said, regaining my attention, "we might have you playing around with your gift." If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Oh¡­ awesome!" Okapi responded to my excitement with her signature cold smile. "Ah, I''m being a bad host! Would you like a drink?"
I opened my eyes to the harsh assault of blinding fluorescent lights flaring around me, reflecting off the white-tiled floor, walls, and ceiling. It made it difficult to focus, and my vision feel blurry, as if looking through a foggy window. I numbly felt teardrops cascade down my cheeks while I blinked away my daze, and I willed my hands to rub away the gathering of tears in my eyes, but they didn''t readily respond. "Whaas goin¡­on?" My words came out slurred, and a pang of panic coursed through me. I raised my palm with renewed urgency, focusing all my mental and physical strength into the action until they finally found my face. Not paralysed then. "Hello, Kalak," a mechanical voice echoed, making me wince. "How are you feeling?" "Doc¡­tor Okapi?" My words stumbled again, the syllables shuffling in a clumsy dance. "I''m sure you''re a little confused, Kalak. Don''t worry, you''ll feel better in no time. Just focus on my voice, okay?" I nodded the best that I could. "Good. Now, let¡¯s start chapter 2. The council of elders are regarded as the custodians of living history, with their knowledge spanning time before the unification. The precise count of members remains undisclosed, but¡­" She droned on, losing me in the process. Why was she telling me all this? I didn''t care. And why did my limbs feel like they were tied down? Each movement, aside from the well-practised art of rolling my eyes, demanded deliberate and conscious exertion. Even keeping my head upright made me feel lightheaded. "You''re doing great, Kalak. Close your eyes for me." I did as instructed, and my eyelids gratefully complied. "Good. Now, I want you to focus on your breathing. Take a deep breath in. Now exhale. Deep breath in¡­. Exhale¡­."
"I want you to slowly open your eyes, Kalak." The doctor''s voice gently penetrated the haze that enveloped my consciousness, and I sluggishly obeyed her instruction, opening my heavy eyelids to reveal the same white room from before, though the lights were dimmer and more sympathetic. "How are you feeling?" "I''m feeling¡­ okay," I managed. "Good. I want you to focus on the glass in front of you, okay?" My eyes drifted across the empty floor before scanning the walls in search of what she was referring to. There was nothing there. Just when I was about to ask, a pinprick on my arm overwhelmed me for a fleeting moment before the entire world transformed. Colours burst to life, their hues intensified, sharpened. The glass pane, invisible moments ago, seemed to materialise before my eyes, its blemishes and smudges bare. It was as if someone had adjusted the focus of my vision, bringing everything into a crisp, heightened reality. Even my breath, once a subtle rhythm, now echoed loudly in my ears. Strength pumped through me, spreading from my core to each of my limbs, and it made me shiver. "Woah." I didn''t get to ponder my newfound clarity for long as my eyes focused on a clear liquid pouring like a sheet of rain within the glass, quickly followed by the cacophony of loud extractor fans, causing me to flinch. They hummed in the background, and I watched the liquid undergo a brief transformation, darkening momentarily, creating a barrier between me and the white walled room. Then, within a minute, the enclosure transformed into a silver box; a reflective silver box. "Can you see your reflection, Kalak?" The doctor asked, her voice through the intercom absent of its previous static. "Yes." The giant mirrored wall revealed the image of a scrawny, shirtless child. A single black velcro band adorned his waist, and a matching headband clung loosely around his forehead, strapping him upright to his chair. Two tubes fed into his arm, something akin to an IV drip, though they led into the floor instead of a stand, and further tendrils of wires reached towards his scalp, disappearing in tousled locks of black hair. And on his chest, there was a small device biting into his skin, positioned just above the heart. ¡°They¡¯re all recording devices,¡± the doctor said, reading my mind. ¡°You appear to have stabilised. How are you feeling?¡± ¡°I¡¯m feeling¡­ better?¡± I didn¡¯t know how else to respond. ¡°Like I have more strength?¡± The silence stretched, and I imagined Okapi writing notes to distract myself from my half naked reflection. Did I take off my shirt, or did she undress me? It was a disturbing thought. ¡°Kalak, what are you thinking about?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ nothing?¡± ¡°You need to tell me what you were thinking if we want to make this work.¡± I nodded in response. ¡°Do you know what gift I have, Kalak?¡± ¡°No?¡± ¡°I can tell when people are lying. So, what were you thinking about?¡± She must¡¯ve been bluffing, and even if she wasn¡¯t, there¡¯d be limits to a power like that. Limits that would stop her from truth-seeking whilst I was in here, and she was¡­ wherever she was. ¡°Lunch. I was thinking about lunch.¡± ¡°Try again.¡± ¡°Sleep.¡± ¡°Again.¡± ¡°My reflection.¡± ¡°More specific.¡± ¡°Why I was shirtless,¡± I conceded. ¡°I was wondering why and how I was shirtless.¡± There was a pause, and I felt my heart thunder at the thought of her asking for details. ¡°Good. ¡®Not that hard, was it?¡± I gave out a small sigh of relief. ¡°Now, focus on the mirror. Let¡¯s see what your gift is.¡± Chapter 8: Gifts I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. My gift had stabilised, according to Dr. Okapi, which meant using my gift should¡¯ve been as natural as breathing; it wasn''t. And instead of providing me with any guidance, the doctor had me staring at a mirror, relaying whatever nonsense floated through my head to her. Every minute, she¡¯d say "what are you thinking," until¡ª Beep! ¡ªShe decided an ear piercing, mind numbing, bloody beep would do the job! Combined with the monotony of the task, it felt like torture. By the thirteenth ¡ª Beep! ¡ª I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to go home and lay in bed. If I wanted to stare at a mirror all day, I had a perfectly good one in my room. ¡°What are you thinking?¡± It hadn''t been a full minute yet ¡ª I knew since I was practically conditioned to cringe in anticipation of the squeal. That meant either I was hallucinating or¡­"Kalak." She was changing things up again. ¡°My bed,¡± I answered, spite starting to seep into my voice. The fizzing out of the intercom left me in silence again, and my mind drifted aimlessly in the sixty-seconds of peace. What was the point of this? How long have I been here for? And where was mum? In the end, my thoughts returned to the comforting image of my bed. I could practically see it, nestled in the corner of the room with the sun casting a golden halo around its plump pillow and soft silk sheets. A collage of framed memories adorned the wall behind it, and to its right, hung staggered, floating shelves burdened with books. All I wanted was to be in that room, so close I could almost touch it. ¡°What do you want to do, Kalak?¡± ¡°My bedroom.¡± The words slipped from my lips before my mind fully registered the question¡ªanother question, not the bludgeoning beep, and a different question at that. ¡°I want¡­to go home?¡± I said hesitantly. The intercom remained silent. ¡°I want to go home,¡± I repeated. ¡°To get out of this chair, and move, and walk, and go home.¡± ¡°How?¡± How? What type of silly question was that? Home was right in front of me. All I had to do was¡­ walk. My breath came in short, gasping bursts, and a jolt of electricity surged through my bones. If I wasn¡¯t already sitting, my legs would have given way beneath me, my knees weak and stomach frenzied. The kid in the mirror was gone, replaced by a picturesque view of my bedroom, but it wasn¡¯t just an image, it was¡­ it was real! It was my bedroom ¡ª right in front of me. ¡°What do you want to do, Kalak?¡± The doctor asked again, her tone even. ¡°The mirror. I want to¨C¡± I choked on the thought, the conclusion colliding with my consciousness. It sounded insane, but my gut and eyes seemed to say otherwise. ¡°¨CI want to walk through the mirror.¡± I want to walk through the portal. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Good. Now, before you try going through it yourself, it would be wise to test it with something smaller. Let''s start by tossing the orange ball through it. We wouldn''t want you to be eaten.¡± I scoffed at the idea. "Mirrors can''t eat people. And what ball¡ª" a loud, mechanical hum interrupted the half-formed question, and I turned my head to the source to find a tile rising from the floor on my right, revealing a little cage with the ball.
"So it''s a portal, then?" A muffled voice asked. "Not quite," the doctor responded. "I don''t know the mechanics of it, but it isn''t a tear in space-time. It seems to link two reflective surfaces together, creating a gateway between them." "Limits?" "Unknown. I hypothesise he needs to imagine the location." "Side effects?" "Fatigue, and symptoms that are in line with motion sickness." "...Thank you, Ms. Okapi. I''ll see him soon." Dr. Okapi put down the phone and turned to look at my curled form on the sofa, a glacial smile across her face. "Your mum will be here soon, Kalak." I responded with an unintelligible grunt while the swirling chaos around me consumed my mind. I was sitting down, right?
The world seemed distant, like a faint radio playing in the background, slowly getting tuned. The sound of soft murmurings, a comforting white noise, growing clearer until I could finally make out mum''s voice. "He''s just a little tired. ¡®Nothing a little rest won''t fix," she said, her gentle fingers brushing my hair. "I can''t believe you took him without telling me." Dad¡¯s voice, and from his hushed tone, he didn''t seem happy. "I told you yesterday." "You told me yesterday about yesterday. You left him alone with her for hours! That is completely irresponsible." "Oh, don''t get me started. I left him with a competent adult." "A psychopath," dad retorted. "Mallory. Don''t." "Look at his arms, El! The bruising and the needle pricks ¡ª she treated him like some lab rat, pumping him full of drugs!" Fingers untangled themselves from the web of my hair, and I felt a shift in the weight on my bed. "You¡ª" I stirred, feigning restlessness. ¡°You¨C¡± Then I let out a fake yawn, raising my hands in a stretch before rubbing my eyes as if to remove the remnants of sleep; it''s not like I¡¯d intended to deceive them, but waking up while they were midway through an argument was just awkward. "Kal, honey, how are you feeling?" Mum said, abandoning her previous thoughts and appearing by my side. "I''m¡­" my words trailed off with a genuine yawn, "tired." "What did you do with the doctor today, champ?" Dad asked, prompting a sharp side eye from mum at the hidden accusation. ¡°Nothing much. Just sat down and told her my thoughts.¡± "Nothing special or strange?" "No?" In truth, I found the entire experience bizarre, but there were better times to say what I really thought. Instead, I focused on my last fleeting thought before the world had turned into a whirling vortex of motion. "I can use my gift now!" My parents both smiled at me in response. "Gifts have limits and side effects. Do you know what yours are?" Mum asked. Was she testing me? "I need to imagine my location. My side effects are tiredness and¡­" my mind drifted back to the white room searching for the words Dr. Okapi said on the phone. "Tiredness and motion sickness." Mum nodded. "I''ve left meds for the motion sickness in the drawer since I know you''ll want to mess around with your gift tonight, even if I tell you not to." Giggles escaped my lips as much as I tried to stifle them. "First, dinner. You slept through lunch." My stomach growled in agreement. Mum checked my temperature before leaving for the kitchen, and when she had left, dad turned to me conspiratorially. "Why do you have marks on your arm, Kal?" I responded with a question of my own, a smile spreading across my face. "¡¯Up for a race, dad?"