Pawns

by Nikki Little

The day that Mary lost her husband-to-be was the day that the newspapers had labeled "The Day of Reflections." Mary had been working as a nurse at a Veterans' Affairs medical center. Mary worked in the burn unit. Now, I don't know about you, but I can't think of a more depressing place to work. With the Iraq war now in its fifth year, the supply of human train wrecks to Mary's section was continuous. Did I mention that Mary was engaged to a civil engineer? It was one of those long-distance romances, and they didn't get to see much of each other. On that day when the angels cursed us all to see our true natures in mirrors, Mary suffered a double tragedy in the form of one horribly burned soldier.

On that day the news of the mirror phenomenon was getting out when a blackened husk of a soldier missing three limbs and his face was wheeled into Mary's section. Mary, of course, did not recognize this poor soul, but the horror of his injuries affected her deeply all the same. As the story goes, Mary ran in tears to a wash basin next to a wall mirror in her section. When she looked up from splashing her face, she saw all of her patients clawing at their faces. They had no eyes, only darkened, empty spaces. Mary jerked her head away from the mirror and the vision vanished. When she looked in the mirror again, the vision returned, and in the center of the mirror floated an ethereal, winged being of light with tears gushing down her face.

Shaking in front of the mirror, Mary closed her eyes. She saw herself in a white wedding dress standing in a field in front of a priest on a beautiful, cloudless, sunny day. Next to her stood her soon-to-be husband, Richard, the civil engineer. She heard a noise behind her. A column of chess pieces, all carrying rifles, marched by. At the end of the column was an endless series of pawns, each identical, each faceless. Richard turned to see the column of pawns, and then looked at Mary. He bowed slightly and walked away from her to join the column of pawns. He became a pawn. He became faceless. He got his gun.

Now Mary looked down at the field all around her. As far as the eye could see in all directions, the field was full of bloodied, mutilated, horribly injured pawns. Severed limbs littered the landscape. The mutilated pawns all looked up at Mary begging for her mercy while writhing on the bloody ground. In Mary's right hand was a first aid kit full of bandages, antiseptic, and morphine. Mary ran from wounded pawn to wounded pawn tying on bandages and injecting morphine. The supplies ran out, and when Mary stood up in her white wedding dress, the dress was no longer white. She held her hands out in front of her to see blood draining off all ten of her fingertips in a steady trickle.

Now she was in a desert surrounded by explosions. Walls of flame went up everywhere around her. Out of buildings they walked: human wax figures in flame. First their hands melted, and then their eyes ran down the front of their clothing. They were staring at Mary through empty eyes. Blaming. Pointing with hands that were gone. Mary did not understand. What did she have to do with any of this? How was she to blame? When Mary looked down at her clothes, her white wedding dress that was no longer white was gone. Mary was a pawn.

Mary snapped out of her vision and went to the burned-out husk of a soldier missing three limbs and his face. Mary picked up his chart and saw his name. Mary has not had a lucid moment since. It was Richard, her soon-to-be husband. Richard was a member of a National Guard unit that was very suddenly called up and sent to Iraq with virtually no notice. Somehow, Mary did not know.

I know all of this sad story because I'm Mary's doctor. I work in a psychiatric unit. Mary believes that she is a chess piece, a pawn to be exact. She spends her days in the hospital courtyard standing stiff at attention, waiting to be moved.

The End

This story is an off-shoot of my previous story "Mirror Image" which contained images borrowed from the video game "American McGee's Alice." Electronic Arts (EA) owns the rights to that video game. Viacom owns the rights to the television series "Twilight Zone."