The Game Ch. 02

Suddenly I feel dizzy and have to grip the sink to stop myself from falling. I remember. But it is fleeting and it is all I remember. I don't remember the face. I don't remember the hair. I don't remember the person who is looking at me and, more than that it confuses the hell out of me.

I touch my face and am surprised that the image in the mirror does the same. Can it really be me? It is... it is... I blink and the image blinks too, the glassy green eyes look confused . I touch my face again, touch the smooth soft skin, watch the image in the mirror do the same. But... it can't be me. It can't be... because the face in the mirror is surely the face of a woman and I am.... I am... not.... am.... am I?

They call me Daniel. I am suddenly overwhelmed with confusion. The face on the wall mirrors it. The world spins and I close my eyes. Am I a woman? I am frozen with the enormity of it, of the shock, of the concept, of the dilemma. I make myself calm down and it is easy enough to check out my body and confirm that I am most certainly not a woman.

I look up at the face in the mirror again. It startles me still, but it no longer scares me. If that is who I am then that is who I am and there's nothing I can do about it. But who the hell am I? Not someone who is afraid of making a statement, that's for sure. What is it I am trying to say?

"Daniel! Come on mate, we're waiting for you."

The voice breaks the spell and I brush my teeth vigorously watching the stranger in the mirror do the same. It is a strange sensation, to look at a stranger and know that it's you. It makes me feel strange, disoriented. Or is that the medication kicking in.

I throw down the toothbrush and turn away from the mirror. It is making my head hurt to look at myself. I open the door.... and find myself staring into a pair of startled pale blue eyes. The woman stares at me for a moment then drops her head and hides behind a curtain of yellow hair. It doesn't occur to me to wonder who she is, or whether she might be embarrassed by the fact that I am wearing only a towel or.... anything really. I just watch her with interest to see what she does next.

What she does is compose herself and look up with a smile. "Hello. I'm Lily. It's nice to meet you."

"Hello." The word sounds strange when I say it, hollow. It seems to echo in my head. "I...I'm.... I'm... Daniel?" It doesn't sound right. When I say it, it just doesn't sound right. But... if not Daniel, then who?

"You don't sound very sure."

"I...I'm....not."

"That's okay. You will be. Until then Daniel's a nice name. It suits you."

"It does?"

"Yes... it does."

"Why?"

"Because, in the bible Daniel was someone who had to face something that was, in a way similar to what you are facing now. He had to face something dangerous and scary and huge. In his case it was a lion, in yours a great empty space where your memories should be. It's as big and as scary as any lion."

"Did it eat him?"

"The lion? No, it didn't. He tamed it."

"I'm glad he didn't kill it."

"Are you? Why?"

"Because it wasn't the lion's fault. It was hungry."

The woman smiles and nods. "I'm sure it was, and it is always a good thing when situations can be resolved without violence, but that is not what I have come to talk to you about today. I have come to make sure you are okay and to tell you that Shaun is getting very impatient for his breakfast. So can you manage to get dressed or do you need some help?"

"No. I can manage. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. Anything."

"Why do I look like a woman?"

"What?"

"I looked in the mirror and I saw... a face I don't know. I think... I....I know... I am a man, but..."

The woman smiles broadly. "Yes, Daniel, you are definitely a man. You don't have to doubt that." She reaches out her hand and touches my hair. It feels good, that touch, as if.... as if it makes me.... real. "The face that looks back at you from the mirror is not the face of a woman, just of a very beautiful young man."

"Beautiful? You think I'm beautiful?"

"Yes Daniel. By anyone's standard or definition of the word, you most certainly are. Now, could you please get your beautiful ass back in the bathroom, put some jeans on it and get it downstairs before Shaun starves to death, or drives me insane insisting he is about to."

"Yes."

I am sidetracked by the mirror again. Lily is right. It isn't a woman's face; not now I know. Am I beautiful? Do I care? No.

It feels good to have clothes on. They don't fit me as well as I had thought they would. The jeans are too short and too big around the waist. I have to pull the belt tight to stop them from slipping down over my hips. The Tshirt fits better although it is a little tight across the shoulders and the sleeves are too short. I push them up to my elbows to cover the fact and notice the bruises on my arms. There are many of them.

I shiver as a memory stabs me. Nothing cohesive, just flashes..... someone holding me, a hand over my mouth, a sharp pain in my arm..... lights shining in my eyes as I lie on my back unable to move with someone standing over me, a black shadow in front of the lights.... voices whispering, whispering in my head and always, always the feeling of being not myself, being dragged out of my body by the needles in my arms.

That doesn't make sense even to me. I pull the sleeves back down again and walk down the stairs. This is not as easy as it sounds. It seems to be a long way down. I have to hold on tightly to the rail or I would not have the courage to take the first step.