Chapter Text
Light was the first thing I experienced. It was soon followed by the cold, then air in my lungs. When my sight adjusted to all of the light, I noticed that a small room surrounded me, but then I didn’t know it was a room. I knew nothing except for the cold on my skin and the air I intrinsically inhaled.
A moving figure entered my peripheral vision. I was able to see he had pale skin that was patched together unevenly. A sound came from his mouth, but I could not yet understand. The first thing I felt after the cool of the air was an ice cold hand atop my smooth head. He patted twice. He spoke once more and left.
In a short time my vision became clear and I was able to see all around me. I lifted my hands and examined them, front and back. My eyes lingered there, then I noticed my arms, and then my chest. My skin was divided into sections, just like the figure. This was my first emotion: familiarity. It was a nice feeling.
Soon enough I realized I was sitting on a long chair of sorts. Nothing bound me, so I moved my newly discovered legs. Something in my body or muscles knew that my legs were supposed to catch me every time I fell forward, and that is how I walked forward. I walked around the room and learned what a room was.
A noise to the side of me made me jump. I discovered fear. But the noise was only the familiar figure. He was holding a long piece of cloth which he wrapped around me. I felt warmth. He spoke again to me. He repeated the same sound again and again. He touched his throat and repeated it once more. He then reached out to touch mine. I leaned back slightly, but I had no instinct telling me to not let him. He spoke the sound once more as he gently tapped my throat. I blinked and touched my throat.
“Father,” I said, mimicking him. I felt a buzz as I said it. I understood him for the first time.
“Father!” he echoed back. He nodded his head and made a sound of what I now know is glee.
He held his hand out to me. I did the same, but I did not expect him to grab it. He tugged my hand softly, led me through another room, and let go when we reached the final room. I noticed every detail, but I failed to understand anything that I saw. All I understood was father.
The familiar figure walked to one wall which had what I now know is a chair. He patted the soft cushion and spoke to me. I remained unmoving. He took my hand once more and nudged me towards the chair. I did not yet understand. He shook his head and his face changed. He sat in the chair, got up, and patted the cushion again with his hand. I thought I understood. I went over and patted the chair. Without hesitation, he began his routine once more; he sat down, stood up, and gestured to the chair. This time I got it. I sat down.
There were many more things that happened just like this. I began to understand quickly that he liked it when I imitated him. But for a while I could not say anything more than “father”. He did not fret.
When the next day began, I learned how the sun felt in my eyes. I stood in front of a window to the outside and I could not look away even when my vision became filled with liquid. He had to draw the curtains so that I would not look any longer. What I did changed his face; the corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes became covered by a shadow made by his brow. He came over to me and patted my head twice like he had done before. I felt familiarity once again despite this unfamiliar face he wore. I watched as he drew every curtain in the room before he left.
Days passed after. Every day he went out for a while and returned with things that he gave me to eat.
My first taste was a small, squishy orb. It made my tongue water. I ate many more before he took the basket of sweet orbs away.
Whenever he left to go outside, he’d switch a knob on a box he kept in the room where we ate. The box made the same sounds that he made, but sometimes the voices were higher, or louder, or softer. They were not him, I realized, but others that had voices like him. I knew I had a voice, but I did not know what to say. Mostly I was silent.
One day he came home with more cloth. These pieces of cloth had many more colors than the one I had been wearing. He took the original cloth he gave me and dressed me in a new colorful cloth. I recognized it as the same color as the sweet orb. When I gazed at my clothes I felt the corners of my mouth go up. When my eyes met his, his mouth was making the same shape. I understood when he told me to stay in my room as he retrieved something. I waited only moments before he returned, holding a wooden frame that held a reflective surface. He placed it in front of me and I saw another figure. I walked towards it and it mimicked me. So did its face when I showed surprise.
“You,” he said, pointing at the mirror, “It is you.”
You. That was me. I understood this; it was the most familiar thing of all. I touched the mirror.
“Me.”