I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing.

My gift had stabilised, according to Dr. Okapi, which meant using my gift should’ve been as natural as breathing; it wasn't. And instead of providing me with any guidance, the doctor had me staring at a mirror, relaying whatever nonsense floated through my head to her.

Every minute, she’d say "what are you thinking," until—

Beep!

—She decided an ear piercing, mind numbing, bloody beep would do the job! Combined with the monotony of the task, it felt like torture.

By the thirteenth — Beep! — I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to go home and lay in bed. If I wanted to stare at a mirror all day, I had a perfectly good one in my room.

“What are you thinking?” It hadn't been a full minute yet — I knew since I was practically conditioned to cringe in anticipation of the squeal. That meant either I was hallucinating or…"Kalak." She was changing things up again.

“My bed,” I answered, spite starting to seep into my voice.

The fizzing out of the intercom left me in silence again, and my mind drifted aimlessly in the sixty-seconds of peace. What was the point of this? How long have I been here for? And where was mum?

In the end, my thoughts returned to the comforting image of my bed. I could practically see it, nestled in the corner of the room with the sun casting a golden halo around its plump pillow and soft silk sheets. A collage of framed memories adorned the wall behind it, and to its right, hung staggered, floating shelves burdened with books.

All I wanted was to be in that room, so close I could almost touch it.

“What do you want to do, Kalak?”

“My bedroom.” The words slipped from my lips before my mind fully registered the question—another question, not the bludgeoning beep, and a different question at that.

“I want…to go home?” I said hesitantly. The intercom remained silent. “I want to go home,” I repeated. “To get out of this chair, and move, and walk, and go home.”

“How?”

How? What type of silly question was that? Home was right in front of me. All I had to do was… walk.

My breath came in short, gasping bursts, and a jolt of electricity surged through my bones. If I wasn’t already sitting, my legs would have given way beneath me, my knees weak and stomach frenzied.

The kid in the mirror was gone, replaced by a picturesque view of my bedroom, but it wasn’t just an image, it was… it was real! It was my bedroom — right in front of me.

“What do you want to do, Kalak?” The doctor asked again, her tone even.

“The mirror. I want to–” I choked on the thought, the conclusion colliding with my consciousness. It sounded insane, but my gut and eyes seemed to say otherwise. “–I want to walk through the mirror.” I want to walk through the portal.

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“Good. Now, before you try going through it yourself, it would be wise to test it with something smaller. Let's start by tossing the orange ball through it. We wouldn't want you to be eaten.”

I scoffed at the idea. "Mirrors can't eat people. And what ball—" a loud, mechanical hum interrupted the half-formed question, and I turned my head to the source to find a tile rising from the floor on my right, revealing a little cage with the ball.

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"So it's a portal, then?" A muffled voice asked.

"Not quite," the doctor responded. "I don't know the mechanics of it, but it isn't a tear in space-time. It seems to link two reflective surfaces together, creating a gateway between them."

"Limits?"

"Unknown. I hypothesise he needs to imagine the location."

"Side effects?"

"Fatigue, and symptoms that are in line with motion sickness."

"...Thank you, Ms. Okapi. I'll see him soon."

Dr. Okapi put down the phone and turned to look at my curled form on the sofa, a glacial smile across her face. "Your mum will be here soon, Kalak."

I responded with an unintelligible grunt while the swirling chaos around me consumed my mind. I was sitting down, right?

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The world seemed distant, like a faint radio playing in the background, slowly getting tuned. The sound of soft murmurings, a comforting white noise, growing clearer until I could finally make out mum's voice. "He's just a little tired. ‘Nothing a little rest won't fix," she said, her gentle fingers brushing my hair.

"I can't believe you took him without telling me." Dad’s voice, and from his hushed tone, he didn't seem happy.

"I told you yesterday."

"You told me yesterday about yesterday. You left him alone with her for hours! That is completely irresponsible."

"Oh, don't get me started. I left him with a competent adult."

"A psychopath," dad retorted.

"Mallory. Don't."

"Look at his arms, El! The bruising and the needle pricks — she treated him like some lab rat, pumping him full of drugs!"

Fingers untangled themselves from the web of my hair, and I felt a shift in the weight on my bed. "You—"

I stirred, feigning restlessness.

“You–”

Then I let out a fake yawn, raising my hands in a stretch before rubbing my eyes as if to remove the remnants of sleep; it's not like I’d intended to deceive them, but waking up while they were midway through an argument was just awkward.

"Kal, honey, how are you feeling?" Mum said, abandoning her previous thoughts and appearing by my side.

"I'm…" my words trailed off with a genuine yawn, "tired."

"What did you do with the doctor today, champ?" Dad asked, prompting a sharp side eye from mum at the hidden accusation.

“Nothing much. Just sat down and told her my thoughts.”

"Nothing special or strange?"

"No?" In truth, I found the entire experience bizarre, but there were better times to say what I really thought. Instead, I focused on my last fleeting thought before the world had turned into a whirling vortex of motion. "I can use my gift now!"

My parents both smiled at me in response. "Gifts have limits and side effects. Do you know what yours are?" Mum asked.

Was she testing me? "I need to imagine my location. My side effects are tiredness and…" my mind drifted back to the white room searching for the words Dr. Okapi said on the phone. "Tiredness and motion sickness."

Mum nodded. "I've left meds for the motion sickness in the drawer since I know you'll want to mess around with your gift tonight, even if I tell you not to." Giggles escaped my lips as much as I tried to stifle them. "First, dinner. You slept through lunch." My stomach growled in agreement.

Mum checked my temperature before leaving for the kitchen, and when she had left, dad turned to me conspiratorially. "Why do you have marks on your arm, Kal?"

I responded with a question of my own, a smile spreading across my face. "’Up for a race, dad?"