Images of a past life (Excerpt from ‘Myna’)

Myna

I’ve never really liked summer. The sun was too bright, the streets too busy, the festivals too full of crying children and their adoring families. The light breeze proved to be insufficient in carrying away the heat, but the oaks preferred it that way. Carmine and gold banners flew like caged sparrows; the excited crowd released pink balloons and shot them down, one by one.

Everything was too colorful, and the remaining shade were diluted with the haze of melting popsicles and warm limeade that smelled exactly like their bright chemical coloring.

Lucas disagreed. He loved the rigged games and the loud trumpet processions, maybe even the strange-tasting caramel popcorn.
“Don’t bother leaving now. It’s just for a day, Raphael.”
I looked at my brother. He would soon become just as tall as me, and then taller in a few years. Where would I be then?
“You’re by yourself.” I replied.
I didn’t walk away though. I hoped he didn’t hear that. He emerged from a tent with a pink stuffed teddy and pressed it into my hands. I stared down blankly, and we walked through the festival.

There was a split in the path. The ground was no longer pebbles and cement, spreading out to a clearing paved with withered confetti bits and compact soil. On the right, more carts selling balloons and snacks. On the left, a glimmering chartreuse circus tent. A small boy ran past us, holding a teal kite; there was a girl wearing deep cerise lip gloss, a woman in an amber dress, and an old man with an enormous hat and striped sunglasses. Lucas inspected a bronze dreamcatcher with exotic feathers, as well as a line of fake crystal brooches. Fortunately, the stall’s owner--a man with saffron tattoos sprawling across his arms--glared at Lucas before he could ‘accidentally’ knock over the cart and steal one. I turned away, towards the right path.

Someone behind me was shouting out riddles, the winning phrases dissolving into the crowd’s cheers. The air was thick with noise. Lions roaring, torches burning, and the steady ticking of someone’s wristwatch. It was almost time, time to make a leap towards the void. One, two, three, and the spotlight. Flip left, then up, and watch the cage below.

I closed my eyes and imagined the scene around me fade, the colors and everything else. I have--I know I have to be Raphael, just for this day.

Lucas entered a House of Mirrors. They called it a house, but it’s a tent at most. I've never really liked warped mirrors. They made me dizzy, like watching a dying candle. But Lucas laughed, and the images laughed with him; I stepped into the saturated floodlights and remembered to listen for any crashing sounds, in case he bumps into a mirror or something.
There was a large square mirror at the end of the spiral. Stopping in front of it, I saw a teenager with a pale, scarred face and eyes which moved with deliberate hostility. I looked closer, but he did not.

The mirror cracked vertically. I knew I believed so, and the things I believe are always right. On one side, Raphael frowned back. On the other--real--side, someone tall and powerful, features permanently settling in an expression of vain confidence, wearing a grey and chartreuse acrobat’s costume. Myna? Lucas walked over and asked something. His worried voice angered me; he tapped on the Mirror, and the real me disappeared.

I ran into the street, from the tent and along the left path that led me directly to the place I’ve always known. Noise, too many noise, reflecting off every moving surface and all the people who retreated hastily in wariness. I was a bird returning to my nest after living out all my life. Maybe I died and became a bird, or I died when I was a bird. You will clip my feathers and take all the colors, all the bright yellows and blues and reds—and I will know that this is my end anyway, and that the epilogue will last longer than any story. All of these are just distractions, things to observe whilst gliding towards the inevitable, weaving in and out of crowds that wandered in different directions. Not me, I had just one path to take. Too many people screamed out my name: Myna! Be careful! The lions roared, agitated, and my partner shouted. The fire crackled and frayed. The ropes shook, tense, and sprung loose within a single heartbeat; the audience screamed. The clown’s wristwatch ticked, and the children cried relentlessly. Too many colors; yellow, pink, white, and red. The world was painted red.

But I was always meant to be a grey bird.

I stood outside the circus tent and threw the pink teddy high into the sky, where darts flew past it—then it fell,


down,


down

into the depths of my mind, frail and shattered like a waxen marionette cut from its strings.

Everything was too familiar. I hated that. How dare he take me back to this place again? And yet, I lifted the tent drapes and walked in.

Inside, it was enormous, dark, and safe. The boy with long golden hair leapt from the top of the stands, his supporting rope barely visible.
One, two, three, and spotlight. Flip left, and then up.
When the lions roared and the audience screamed, I looked up; he had made the leap. I imagined myself up there, the whole world looking at me, and I felt a cold weight in my chest.

It seemed like… a loss of direction.
After all, I used to be Myna.

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Context

This short story is an excerpt from my science fiction story, 219 Generations (this name lasts for now. Probably going to change it in a few months though). It’s from about the middle of the first book, in the chapter ‘Myna’. All the context you need to know to understand this chapter is that Myna (a type of bird) is the code name for this character, Raphael Everett, but nobody knows why. They just call him that out of habit, probably because nobody remembers the past five years of their life due to the inciting incident of the story (the main characters have their memory wiped by an antagonistic side character). Raphael can see other people’s thoughts, which is why his world is always full of confusing noise and too much colors. His personality is not very pleasant (understandable), and he’s a minor character compared to the other protagonists. In this chapter, ‘Myna’, we finally know more about his backstory. One thing worth noting is that Lucas (or Piggy, as commonly referred to in the story) should never be able to meet Raphael at this time, so it’s obvious that some of this dream sequence is his imagination twisting the memories. In summary, you have now read part of a chapter that’s supposed to make this unlikeable character slowly become more sympathetic. Let me know how I did lol. (If this site isn’t dead yet)

Comments for this chapter

• ohhhh now it makes sense about how raphael was showing us the world especially about the part of all the colors. I didn't actually get almost any of what you wrote in the Context section from what was in the story and I still am confused about the mirrors bit? But in any case, can you please post the rest of the book - I'll be able to give much better feedback on it if I've read more of the story. For now thank you for sharing and I hope to read more soon

  Comment by rose on July 21, 2025

  Liked by 1

• ^ would definitely agree with @above - please post more!

  Comment by Alex McStevens on July 25, 2025

  Liked by 0

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