Letters Written in White by Kathryn Perez

back. I get up and slowly make my way over to one of the walls. Upon further inspection, I realize there are words randomly scrawled out on some of the bricks. In bold black I see so many words: fat, ugly, perfect, loser, thief, beautiful, skinny, happy, funny, angry, hateful, annoying, and worthless. They go on and on. I can’t make any sense of it. There aren’t just negative or positive words on them. It’s a mixture of both.
    “How many of these lies have you told, Riah? How many of these words are labels you placed upon yourself or your family and friends?”
    He’s back, whoever he is. I turn around but don’t see the long-haired man I saw before. It’s the exact same voice, yet this time, the man is short and pale-skinned with a receding hairline. I’m more than confused.
    “Are you…you? I mean…are you the same person as before, or is there one universal voice here?”
    He smiles, and right then I know it’s the same person, yet not. The eyes and the smile are oddly exactly the same as the person’s before.
    “I take on a number of different forms. Just like in life, you’re all made up of many different people, even though what makes us human is all very much the same.”
    “But are you…human?” I ask.
    His smile widens. “Not anymore.”
    His response gives me chills and I shiver. I look around at the brick wall and ask, “What is all of this? What does it mean? How do I ever find the key? I feel like I’m making no progress.”
    He clasps his hands together and smiles. “Your Key Keeper will come. Trust, Riah. You’re making more progress than you even know.”
    “My Key Keeper?”
    “Yes, everyone has a Key Keeper. The Key Keepers have come before you. Each human being on Earth is tied to their Key Keeper by an invisible flow of energy. Some believe it’s an unwavering pathway of love. They wait for you to arrive, and when you do, they stand at the end of your journey in the Reflection Realm with your key. Once you find them, you find your key, and they accompany you through your door, should you choose to open it.”
    I frown. “Some choose to not open their door? Why?”
    His face relaxes into an expression of sadness. “Unfortunately, not all can choose to let go of their regrets, their past. You met Philomena. She is one who chose to forgo her door. She can’t make peace with her past. Nor can she forgive her regrets.”
    “That’s sad,” I whisper, feeling awful for those such as Philomena. I don’t want to be like her. I want to let go. I thought that’s what I was doing when I chose death. I had no idea how wrong I was.
    “You asked about this wall. I will tell you about it. This is another step in your journey. As you look at the labels here on this wall, you will recognize some and not others. These labels can give you insight. I urge you to seek it.”
    “How? How do I do that?” I ask, confused yet again.
    He reaches out for my hand, and as soon as we touch, comforting warmth spreads from my fingertips, up my arm, and throughout my body. He extends our hands out toward the wall and places mine on the brick that is labeled perfect and then moves my hand to the brick above it that is labeled annoying . Both bricks crumble into a fine dust that falls to our feet. A hole is left where the bricks once were, and I see my neighbor, Darcy. My brows thread together and I look over to the short, balding man.
    “I don’t understand,” I murmur.
    He nods his head in the direction of the vision of Darcy and says, “Oh, but you will. Just watch and you will soon understand.”
    And with that he’s gone. I lean forward and look through the opening. It’s Darcy. She’s in her bathroom, standing at her sink holding a stick of some sort. I look more closely and realize it’s a pregnancy test. Tears are streaming down her face, and her hands are unsteady. Her right eye is purple. I wonder what happened to her. She’s also not wearing any makeup, which is strange. I’ve never