"New Angels"
It is nearly bedtime and I am ready. Despite the terrible damage to our island, I have a good life.
Taken in by relatives many years ago when my parents died. Living in a nice and safe part of the island with my own room to sleep in. I will be eighteen soon.
I am a blended girl. The child of a blended island mother and a different blend mainland father.
I do very well in learning and testing, despite the closures of the school for so long.
I have my favorite style nightie. They call these 'granny pajamas'. Covering the arms and hanging down to feet in a soft cotton fabric. This is one of blue ones. Some people tease me about them, but not any of my grannies. Grannies are really the best people. Wise and comforting. Never mean unless they have gotten some rotten news.
I perform a silent ritual. On the bookshelf is my collection of stuffed bears and toys. I am nearly eighteen now, and I still want them to cuddle in bed.
Those times are over.
I often clung to them, even when friends came to visit and sleep over. I even performed school talent skits with them until two years ago.
That last performance, I sang to a Gwen Stefani song holding them and dancing. "and I will be your favorite girl".
It was a hit. But it was also the last time to have a moment like that one. I was too old for it. Everyone was kind but firm.
So now stuffed toys all stay on the shelf and have a ritual before bed.
I run my hand along the furry body, let three fingers brush down the felted belly, and squeeze the felted hand pad. "Good night loved ones."
Passing the mirror, I think I look 'just fine'. Without fashion products, I have a nice glowing skin tone and pleasantly ring-ly brown hair.
Once snuggled in bed, I find myself happy and sad. Life is good, but leaving things behind is hard. My Grannies say it all the time.
Sleep comes quickly, but so does the strangest thing to shock me awake.
All of the light from everywhere has a vibrant blue electric wash.
The light in the bedroom, the light outdoors, even in the closet where there are no lights.
And everyone was gone.
No one in the house.
No one in the 'often loud' bar down the street.
I step into my yellow boots and throw on a white hooded nylon poncho. I am ready to go investigate this.
Outside the house, I see on the main square at the top of the hill. There is something there. Something shiny and reflective.
My feet make no sounds. There are no breezes. Definitely no people. Everything is bathed of dynamic white blue light (like sunlight on sand under a few inches of clear water).
At the square, the shiny thing is taller than I am. I mistake it for a mirror because my image appears as I walk up to it.
The image changes. Still me. Different hair fashion. Different clothes. Different 'me's slide to the right and are replaced with a me with a different look.
I slip to the right and discover that the 'me' changes. Emotions. The kinds of things I am holding. The kind of person. Careers and personalities are shown as I circle the shiny object.
I could find my life's dream here. I could choose it. Options I had not thought about, were all being shown to me. Reflected back as I looked.
Remembering the cautions and warnings of my good grannies, I suspect a trick.
I step back ready to run. A nice offer can be a trick. An offer is patient. A trick want you enticed and ever always moving towards it.
Moving away made no difference.
I spent a long time just thinking. 'What do I want from an adult life?'
I spend time circling and looking. Even in professions there are choices.
Finally, I decide. This thing knows far more about choices than I do. It is showing me what I might like to become, so I can select one.
I back up to it and fall backwards on purpose. A trust fall.
"You know so much, pick something nice. You clearly see me as I am."
Quickly I am somewhere else. Floating on the deep inky black night sky.
Blue-white stars coalesce around me and whisper.
"They told me I might find someone like you.
We are new.
Recently grown into a place.
A place your people used to call the home of angels. Those before made room for us.
I am younger than the rest. Only recently re-awakened.
This is an offer, not a trick.
Everything you saw in the light. All the libraries with books. All the stores with goods. We created it for you to use and have when needed.
If you need to know if a plant to safe or bad, you can come to that world and check the books.
If you need to smack a goofy guy over the head with a silly too-large hammer, you can get it here.
Your activities and the places we could go will help me.
I am not human, but I am sentient. A being.
You can show me more. Just by doing things that suit you.
I missed a lot.
I only had a short time. The best was being carried around and shown the world.
Only for as long as you want.
We will grow apart. Our existences are too divergent.
For a little while, I can take you to people that need help. I will have a long list. You can decide how best to help them.
What do you say? Does that work for you?"
The lights take form as a white plush creature with deep translucent eyes and tucks into the crook of my arm.
'Sure', I say. 'Let's go help people.'
My sleep dress and some of the shoes take on an inky night sky quality. I have a wonderful sense of sharing and optimism.