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Alessio withdrew down one of the corridors risking a glance in Nithel’s direction but not daring to actually try to talk to him again. He just needed some space, he told himself, to calm down. Although he knew what he really needed was to be able to trust someone at some point. Not that he was ever entirely good at it to begin with. Afterwards there was and always would be an inner doubt toward everyone. He’d never have the same level of confidence in anyone ever again. And that was a fact he had to live with.
Without making a sound he ran a finger along several mirrors watching for the space between his finger and its reflection. The glass was cold, his own reflection dismaying as he looked anything but blissfully ignorant of the real world actions. Sometimes he almost thought he could catch of glimpse of who he used to be in the mirror, maybe a bit of life every so often, but that was rare. It didn’t matter anyway, he couldn’t remember who he used to be and he was nostalgic for a time that never existed when he felt safe.
I waited, I just knew You’d protect me. I waited, didn’t I?
Was I not worth saving?
The mirror flickered and for some reason he expected it to show him who he really was. He backed a step when it gave a dim glow. After a second the image was clear as glass; a fractured phoenix. He could trace each scar and break on the bird all of them just as fresh as if from minutes ago. But it only showed the physical wounds. Alessio stared into the mirror for several seconds.
“No…that’s a lie.” He did have an identity beyond trauma. It had to still be there. The image shifted. A small room he’d never forgotten, rain pattered over the glass, it felt like it was really there. He knew what was coming then before it happened, it had played in his mind over and over and he knew all his lines. The lady in the bedroom apartment was Arabella but hadn’t known her name at the time. With a creak covered by the sleeting rain the boy’s silhouette barely held up for second before tumbling over leaving her to snatch him up slamming the door shut with the back her heel. Through the mirror he could see her lips move wordlessly and he couldn’t supply the words himself through the gaps in his consciousness during the ordeal.
He remembered he didn’t know where he was or how he got there. In the mirror the boy glanced around but couldn’t seem to focus his gaze on anything. He stared through the lady and attempted a sheepish smile. She kept saying something to him but Alessio couldn’t remember what it was.
“Just st-stop, I don’t want to see tha–I want…–” The mirror was supposed to show who he really was not…Alessio sighed, wondering why he expected a mirror to answer his questions. But the scene kept rolling. She pulled him up and set him on the edge of the bed. The nine-year-old blinked at everything still trying to focus his eyes.
‘Hi’ He mouthed through a wet film of mucus that kept him from talking. He began to realize there was an actual reason he couldn’t quite see, his face was bloody enough and the bruise on his cheekbone obscured his vision in one eye. All the same his gaze kept flickering across the room unable to take it in fast enough. Mentally he was still running and he couldn’t figure out where he was or what happened.
“I said stop, stop!” Slapping the palm of his hand into the mirror he willed it to shut down, break, anything. To his surprise the image darted out leaving nothing but a vague imprint on the glass.
Alessio stared at the mirror for several seconds before slowly sinking to the ground burying his head in his knees too exhausted to do anything else. He didn’t feel scared or tired to anything, just numb. Too numb to think or feel or anything. There was only one half sensation or thought fragment left
That it was cold.

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