Mirror

8

God, not the same dream again....

It was the first thought that came into my head as soon as I woke up from my horrific nightmare.

I can't even recollect when was the last time I relived the dreadful, unpleasant and unfortunate experience of my life in the form of a nightmare. It had been so long and I was almost certain I'd gotten over it.

No matter how much I try, I can't seem to get over the past and I'm enervated and fed up with it. I have no idea when I am going to abandon that chapter of my life and move on from a piece of unspeakable abuse I had endured.

Images of Maxwell emerged in my head. Till now, his mere thought makes my skin crawl. I was naïve to blindly trust Max, especially when there were several red flags. I should have known everything was going too well to be true. To think he had good intentions to take me under his roof without expecting anything in return.

I failed to understand what messed up person Max really was. The guy literally has no shame. How can he be romantically interested in thirteen years? Yes, I was thirteen when I first met Max.

Max was incredibly manipulative. He had people thinking he was some sort of God who could do nothing wrong. He wore the face of the perfect guy who couldn't hurt a fly and people talked about him very strongly because he was always ready to help anyone at any time.

If only they knew it was a beast disguised in human flesh. But the damage was already done. He left a never-healing deep wound and I had learned the hard way.

The incident completely changed my life, but not in a better way. If I thought my life was bad in the orphanage, my life went into a nightmare. I had nowhere to go. Nothing to eat. Nobody also to rely on.

I became more conservative to the point of having almost no interaction with anyone. I had completely shut myself down. In straight words, I was living an absolutely wretched life.

On the other hand, I was afraid they would identify me and put me behind bars. This is also one reason why I disguise myself as a boy living with my own secrets. I couldn't risk anyone finding out about me.

The last time I saw Maxwell he was covered in blood. I was scared to death at the time and chose the easy way out, so I flew away from there.

I am not proud of my action, regardless, I don't see myself fully remorseful either. A part of me still believes he deserved every bit of what he got and another part of me. A tiny one feels guilty. At the end of the day, he is human and, no matter what, I should not have left him alone, especially on the verge of his death.

And the fact I had no idea whether Max was alive or not made it worse, but I was determined I wasn't going to let my emotions come in the way. So, pushing back the little remorse I felt for my action, I continued living my dual life. I kept my resolution to achieve the life I desired.

I tried to subside my unwanted thoughts with happy ones, but sadly, I had none. I groaned inwardly as my mind drifted back to running through scenarios in my head in reply mode.

Unable to get hold of my emotions, my hands reached out for the glass of water that was seated on the nightstand. Drinking water has always helped me with my stress. I guzzled down the cool oxidane in one breath, not realizing how thirsty I was. The cool transparent liquid instantly moistens my parched throat, sending me into a blissful frame of mind.

Right after I had placed a now empty glass back on the night stand, I jolted upright, startled by the sudden loudly shattering noise from the living room followed by an eerie silence. The hair rising on the nape of my neck as fear took over my body.

What was the sound? I questioned myself, not knowing what had just happened.

The thought of someone breaking into my apartment crossed my head, sending a sense of dread. Straining my ears to hear, I tried to grab any noise. Footsteps or moving of this but I heard nothing except my own breathing.

I had no idea what to do. I was wondering whether I should check what happened or not. Has anyone ever seen horror movies where the ghost makes its presence known and the person being haunted goes to check on the sound and ends up getting hurt if not being killed.

For some reason, those scenes infuriate me rather than scaring me. On multiple occasions, I myself wanted to go inside the reel and strangle the person to death.

I know I sound ridiculous for saying this but I was afraid something similar was going to happen to me if I walked outside. I was almost certain that some intruder was waiting right outside the door and the moment I walked out of my room and into the living room he would pounce on me and torture me to death. Though I've no idea whether the intruder is a ghost, a robber or a serial killer

And the fact it was beginning to get dark added fuel to my fear and made it worse. I need to seriously stop watching those horror movies. For the next four minutes, I sat there in utter silence contemplating and anticipating all the possibilities that could happen to me right now if I left the safety of my room.

Gathering my thoughts, I finally decided to check what the loud crashing sound was, since staying here not knowing what was happening right outside my bedroom door, I started feeling much tougher and going there and facing it.

I might be doing stupidity, but there is a high chance that if I don't do anything the person will eventually break inside my bedroom so that he could finish what he came here for. Crawling out of bed, I straightened my dress, slightly brushing it.

My heart picks up a pulsating rhythm painfully thumping against my chest and my shoulder taut as I hesitantly make my way towards my bedroom door that was currently locked from inside.

Cautiously, I unlocked the door, making sure I made the least noise, since the door was old. Once the door was successfully unlocked with minimal noise, I sneakily peeked inside the living room from the little gap in the door.

My eyebrows scrunched together as the broken pieces of my wall mirror were scattered across the floor a few feet away caught my attention.

How did the mirror break?

And the strange part was that only the mirror part was lying scattered on the floor and the frame holding the piece of mirror was still attached to the wall. Involuntarily, my neck twisted around the room and my gaze trailed each and every corner assessing and examining my surroundings.

No one was in there, nor was any indication of somebody breaking into my apartment. Everything appeared to be in their places other than the mirror.

'It must be Kiyo' I muttered to myself, seeing no other possibility how the mirror could have broken.

I took a sharp intake of breath before blowing it out in relief, now certain it was Kiyo, my landlord's evil cat. That brat. If I happen to find him, I will lock him with Lucy, my neighbor's dog who Kiyo despises with every fur in his body.

A smile creeped at the thought but soon faded as I realized I had to buy another Mirror now. With the thought, I shut the door before heading back to my bed.

*******************

Unplugging my phone from the charger, I slipped inside my pocket.

Duty time...

As much as I wanted to go back to my bed and stay cured forever, I simply couldn't. Disturbed by Ashley's sudden death, I have spent these days curled up in bed, sad and depressed. Now it's time to return to my normal routine.

Desperate for some cash, today I accepted a nightshift which I normally avoid at any cost. Seems like everything has it's first time,and now here I'm all ready as Oliver, already to leave for my job.

Pushing my never ending chain of thoughts, I was about to turn and walk away, but before I could, my eyes fell in the mirror that was a few feet away. As if in a daze, my feet led me to the mirror and steps faltered right in front of it..

I don't know why I came here but there is something about this mirror. Something irresistible. A pull that I can't seem to explain. My hand went to touch the frame of the mirror. A jolt of electric current passed through my body as my hand touched.

My finger trailed on the pattern of the mirror frame before curling on the handle. Lifting it off the table, I brought up right in my face so that I was straight at my reflection.