Perfect. I must be Perfect.

I cross the tiny room to the tiny brass mirror above the tiny broken black bed frame. The room is freezing and dirty with all it's personality either stolen, rotting, or thrown upon the splintered-wood floor. The room smells of urine, dust, and decay. Where the walls once held frames and flowered wall paper it now held nothing but dirt and the mirror. I passed the window and cannot help but notice the sunshine pouring through. I smile; he always brought sunshine with him. I look through the window towards the park and my smile becomes larger as I see the top of the big Oak in Oakley Park. But the smile slides off my face quickly, I'm much too busy for smiles and sunshine and trees. He will be here soon.

I reached the mirror and stared into the refection. The glass was dirty at the edges and there was a smear of something black near the bottom of the surface. The mark went from the left of my reflection's neck down to my refection's right collarbone. I look away from the mark and into my own face. Same face, same hair, same skin. Different eyes. Today there is a spark of something that hasn't been there in weeks, months. Joy. He's coming home. My hand reaches for the letter in my pocket. The letter telling me in beautiful words that he's coming back. To meet him in the park and be ready for a picnic.

I look back at the mirror and my eyes are drawn to my own lips. The lips that formed only lovely words and sweet kisses with him. Something was different with my lips too. They were acting on their own in my reflection. I watched with a mix of sick horror and strange fascination as those lips, the ones that should parallel my own, twisted into a smile that was not mine. My right hand brushed the mirror's insane expression and was not reflected in the mirror. The reflection instead silently screamed at me.

Suddenly a knock, knock, knock came from behind the mirror.
The light from the windows extinguished '
And myself, the mirror, and its sick soundless screaming face fell.


'Oh. Samuel. It is so nice to see you again. How I've missed you. It's be awful here, alone. Without you. Without anyone really. No understands me like you do. Anyway, I'm sure you have so much to tell me.'� I blush; I have so much to tell him, too. 'How were your travels?'�
'It's very nice to be back, Alice. I've miss you, too. Very much. I almost couldn't leave you here. You know I had to leave though, right?'� His brows furrowed in the most charming way.
'Oh, Samuel. Of course. Of course. Now. Where have you been? What have you done?'� And he told me. Everything. About teaching the other missionaries trick cards. He told me of the orphanage children and their twinkling black eyes and small dirty hands. He told me of the poverty, the war. He told me of the towers, the legends, the language. He didn't stop talking for nearly 3 hours. When he finally finished all of the sandwiches were gone, and I had filled our cups 3 times, and tea was getting low. 'Oh, that all sounds so lovely. Samuel, How long were you gone? It feels like it's been years.'�
'Darling, I've only been gone for a few months.'� He sighed and his eyes blanked out like they always did when his mind was far away. He fiddled with the edge of the blanket unconsciously. He looked like a sad picture that I'd take of some other man. An old man who had gone off and seen everything the world had to offer him. Often this man would ask god why the world was so small, so cruel. Why there was such an imbalance.
'What are you thinking about?'� My eyes saddened to see that my Samuel was already gone again. He didn't answer right away. He stared at the big oak that stood straight in the middle of Oakley Park.
'Those children. They were such a light, such an inspiration, in that place. They owned nothing. But they had all the happiness a human could possess. I wanted to give them everything. Everything I had in my pockets I took out to try to give them. They never wanted any of it.'� He smiled 'Of course I can't think of what they would do with an empty wallet and a deck of cards. All they would say is 'Another one Mr. Andrews'. And I'd do it, one trick after another. And soon I ran out of tricks. They didn't mind seeing the same one again, though. Best crowd I had ever had.'� He laughed, to himself mostly, and looked at me with affection in his eyes. This love was not for me, I knew, but I basked in the tender light of it.
'Samuel, have you ever thought of maybe one day having our own child? Have you ever imagined showing our own children all of those card tricks? Hearing their gasps of astonishment and looking upon their glowing faces and twinkling eyes?'� I asked lightly, not knowing how he would react. I didn't need to worry.
'Oh, Alice. How I've wished and prayed for a child. A baby to call our own.'� His eyes filled with excitement. And I was moved to tears. I wept, and clutched at his shirt. I was beyond happy. I had such news for him. 'Alice, Darling, are you alright?'�
'More than just alright, Samuel. What I mean to say is. Our wishes and prayers have been answered. I could not tell you in a letter, Samuel, do not be angry with me.'� Again, I need not worry. He gathered me up in his arms and held me close to him for the longest time. Both of us sobbing from love, from happiness, from anything that makes people cry and smile at the same time. 'Our family. You, me, and our baby. Samuel, I love you.'� I looked up at his eyes again. They were shut. 'Samuel? You are so cold. Why are you so cold? Let's leave. Let's go home, finally. I need to go home with you. Let's plan the baby's room.'� He would not move. Suddenly the sun started to bob up and down and then it shined directly in my eyes in a concentrated stream that burnt spots into my eyes. I couldn't see. What was happening? Strong hands grabbed my arms and drug me forcefully from my Samuel. I kicked and screamed and bit. The hands would not let me go. I was forced into a sleep. A dreamless, emotionless, dark, sleep where my Samuel could not save me.

'What was she doing out here like that? Shouldn't people like that be locked up somewhere? She could have hurt somebody.'� The officer took a sip of coffee as the medical units from the institution injected a sleeping drug into Alice's arm.
'She was at the institution until yesterday morning. We thought she might want to be home. She seemed fine. She has been very good the past few years. We thought she might of gotten over the um, the incident.'� The doctor's face blushed from embarrassment. Alice was one of his patents; it was his own fault that Alice was allowed to go home for a short time. 'She was going to be back in the institute later this week, actually. Her neighbor was supposed to keep an eye on her. And there was an alarm that would contact us if she left her home. All this was just a big mistake. We are taking her back to the institute right now.'�
'I pity her, honestly, but we need to keep her off the streets. What was she doing in a cemetery at 3 in the morning? How did she dig up that body herself? Who was that man? The keeper says that he found her just sitting there with the body propped against another grave stone, said she was talking to it.'� His leaned onto his patrol car, his body looked tired but his eyes looked alive and interested so the doctor decided to tell him about Alice Andrews.
'Alice was checked into the institute 4 years ago. She has just lost her husband; he died overseas during one of those bombings. He was part of some missionary group trying to help out the orphans. They never knew it was coming. A lot of those kids died, and he was trying to get out as many of them as he could and got stuck inside. When Alice got the news she was 3 months pregnant. The news was unbearable for her. The police brought her to us after the neighbors called them to investigate. They said they found her sobbing and swinging a huge sledge hammer around like it was a stuffed doll. Craziest thing they'd ever seen. When she first got here all she could do was scream and cry. She'd scratch and bite anyone that tried to come near her. She'd scream 'Stay away from my baby. You won't take my baby away from me.'� Over and over, for weeks that is all she would say. We had to tranquilize her to get a look at the child she was carrying. The child seemed to be fine, until one day Alice woke up in a pool of blood. Alice was confused and scared; she let us check her out without tranquilizers. We still don't know how it happened. But, she lost the baby. The other doctors think that she must have done it to herself. But I know otherwise. Alice would never hurt her own child. Once she lost the baby her fits of rage and the biting all stopped. Alice was empty. She's been that way since. We thought that maybe staying at her house, even for just a few days would compel her to do something. To say something. I guess coming back did something for her, nothing good, unfortunately.'� The doctor's eyes were glassy and full frustration. 'I wanted so badly for this to be the solution for Alice.'�
'Who was the man she dug up?'� the officer was peering into the back of the doctor's car where the unconscious Alice slept soundly. Her face was smeared with makeup that looked like a 5 year old had gotten into her mother's makeup bag and made a Picasso of her face. She had small scratches all over her arms, legs and face. Her dull hair was tangled into a large clip and dried leaved littered her hair. She had worn a yellow maternity sundress that she had stuffed with a pillow. Her left hand was clutching her bump as some pregnant women do.
'That was her husband. Alice was in no shape to attend the funeral of her husband. I have no idea how she could have found him here. I'm sorry officer. This won't happen again. Alice will not leave the institute again.'� The doctor got into the drivers side of his car and drove off with Alice leaving the officer turning Alice's sad story in his head. By that time, the keeper had already reburied the body of Samuel Andrews and had headed back to his home on the other side of the graveyard. Alice's picnic basket and blanket still laid next to Samuel's grave. Two sets of tea plates and cups were set neatly on the blanket. One cup was full of a dark liquid that looked like mud, and on top of the plate there was a collection of rocks. The officer gathered up the blanket and the tea set, and just as he was leaving for his car something white in the dark grass caught his eye. On closer investigation he realized it was a letter.

Dear Samuel,
How are you, my darling? I just received your letter. I can't even express how much I miss you in words. I can't wait for you to finally be home. And I cannot believe that I'll have you in my arms in a matter of days. The most awful thing happened today, Samuel. You know how our window in our bedroom faces Oakley Park? I was just glancing out the window and I noticed that I could not see the top of the big Oak. I didn't think too much of it, until I walked past the park on my way to the store to pick up some milk. They've cut down the Oak. It's gone. All day it's been raining.
I love you.
I miss you.

Alice


The officer turned to his car. Got in, revved up the engine. And drove off.
In the following weeks, Alice's condition worsened.
She died August 12. She performed suicide with a glass shard. Alice slit her own neck from her lower collarbone to the other side of her jaw line. She missed the throat, but bled to death an hour before she was found. The shard is believed to belong to a mirror that was in Alice's home. No one knows how Alice snuck it into her asylum room.
Alice's funeral was the week after her death; she is now at rest beside her husband Samuel Andrews in the cemetery across from Oakley Park.

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