Mirror

6

"Yes, the mansion is up for sale." Sale?

I was taken aback by what I had just heard. They are about to sell the mansion. Miss Weed would never have agreed to this. She loved this place. Worshipped it. This mansion is one of the reasons for her to stay in this small town.

"Hey you," Came her voice, breaking me from my trance.

I craned my head up and gazed at her with ceased brows. "Yes,"

"I need your name and number," she casually says, taking me by surprise again.

Name and number? Why does she need my name and number?

"The police are still working on the case. Everyone related to mom is being interrogated," she added, noticing my hesitancy.

Nodding, I took my sticky note and pen from my handbag which I always carry with me. Noting down my training, I handed it over to her. She grabbed more like snatched the piece of paper from my hand.

She is really Ashley's daughter. They are nothing alike. Not physically and emotionally, let not even go there.

"Ya that wouldn't be a problem the price is negotiable,"

They are really selling the house...

My temper flared. I wanted to yell at her, tell her how horrible she was to leave her mother and now I am trying to sell something which was so dear to her, but I bit my tongue restraining myself. I was very aware that behaving impulsively would lead me nowhere and also reminded myself it was not my place to poke in, no matter how much I hate it.

I have to get out of here before I lose control...

It makes me sick knowing how much they meant to Ashley and how less Ashley meant to them. These people are unworthy of love.

She let out a small laugh. "Of course,"

She looked up at me with a bitter expression before slamming shut the door loudly on my face. I ran my hand through my face, exhaling a breath. Swirling around, I made my way toward the metal gate out of it.

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

The heart-breaking reality set in harder and harder with each step I take with my now sore foot. Miss Weed is no more. She was a good woman. She didn't deserve death, at least not an untimely gruesome death and, judging by the circumstances, cops concluded that there is a high chance Loki is the one who attacked and brutally killed Ashley and has now vanished into thin air.

My chest further tightened at the thought of Loki. No matter what the evidence points out, my heart refused to believe Loki would be the culprit. I can't help worrying about him. I just hope he is alright wherever he is.

I wish things were different. Damage was already done and there is nothing I or anyone could do to change it.

I zip my lips trying to push away the heartbreaking thoughts but the shadows of their memories won't go away. We had formed a special bond in a short period of time. My eyes moistened.

Suddenly, my chain of depressing thoughts was broken apart by the ringing of my phone. I drew my phone out of my pocket and answered it without looking at the caller.

"Hello Oli honey, where are you?" Came Annie's sweet voice.

Oh god I'm late.

"Home," I lied.

"Home?"

"Yes, actually I was about to call you myself. Is it alright if I take off today?" I said, getting straight to the point. I wasn't really in the mood for formalities. Yes, I made sure my voice was not feminist.

"Of course, honey, but is everything all right?" She asked worriedly.

My bottom lip wobbled and tears welled in my eyes and my vision became blurry. Tears threatened to fall out and I knew I would cry any second but I refused to let them fall. I shut my eyes and took small breaths, trying my best not to cry.

"Oliver, are you there?" Annie's voice agitated.

I fluttered my eyes open. "Yes, actually I'm not feeling well," I lied, trying hard to fight back my tears.

"Oh, honey, I have told you multiple times to take care of yourself, but you don't listen to me at all. Do you want me to send anything to you?"

If any other day I would have smiled at her loving tone but it only added to my misery and a single traitorous tear rolled down my rosy cheeks, not being able to keep it at bay. My left palm clamped over my mouth not to make the slightest noise.

"No, it's okay. I just need some rest."

I knew she could see all through my lies and had a fair idea by now that something was not quite right, but I was a mess to care about right now. Thankfully, she also didn't try to push the matter further.

"Okay but call me if you need anything, okay?" I let out a hum, not trusting my voice. With that, I hung up.

And a second later my tears broke free and fresh tears ran down my face. A louder sob broke off me as I cried hysterically. The people passing by were giving me looks.

'Stop it Ocean, everyone's looking'

But my eyes won't listen to me and they continue to grieve with the pain. I can't stop tearing and sobbing hysterically.

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

With a gaping hole in my heart, I finally reached front of my house. I was worn out both emotionally and physically. My unsteady steps halted abruptly as I spotted a figure standing in front of my main door with his back facing me. It seemed like he was waiting for the door to open.

"How may I help you?" Spilled out of me.

He spun around, coming face to face with me. His eyes trailed down my body but not in a way that would make me uncomfortable.

Unconsciously, I intimate his action. He was wearing a yellow T-shirt, black pants and a yellow cap with the company logo printed in black ink. Judging by his dress up, it was obvious he was a delivery guy.

His thin lips tugged up into a professional smile at the sight of me and I gave of my own.

"Miss Ocean?" He inquired with a slight rise of his left eyebrow.

"Yes," I answered in an unsure tone.

"I've got a parcel for you."

I scrunch up my nose utterly confused as I register his words. How would you send me a parcel?

"I think you are at the wrong address," he replied casually, sure he got the wrong address.

"Miss Ocean, right?" He inquired.

I nod in conformation

"Then it's yours," he confirmed.

My brows further scrunched down. "Could you tell me who sent it?"

He looked at the A4 paper in his hand, studying it. "The sender goes with the name Ashley Weed,"

Ashley?

His remark raised a bunch of queries.

How did she know my address?

I lied about staying with my parents. She had no idea about my life and I wanted it to stay in that way. Not only her, but nobody knew about it. The only reason she knew me as ocean was because I first met her when I was dressed as Ocean and she offered me a job. Since I was in desperate need, I took it without any further thought.

"Ma'am," His voice jolted out from my thoughts.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, slightly embarrassed. I zoned out on him between the conversation.

"Your parcel," he said with a smile on his face, reassuring me it was okay.

I grabbed the parcel from his hand which he was holding out for me to take before murmuring a timid 'Thank you'.

"I need you to sign this for me please," he politely said, stretching the paper in his hand.

I took it and signed at the recipient space before handling him. He was about to walk away but I stopped him and offered him a five-dollar bill.

His eyes lit up in gratitude. "Thank you, ma'am,"

No matter how poor I am, I don't think I'll ever stop tipping people. It's something that encourages people to work hard.

Once he left, I unlocked the door, walked inside and flipped the light on. Even though it was broad daylight, my apartment was always like a chilly winter night. dark and gloomy, but that is all I get with the money I earn.

Sliding into the bar tool, I unwrapped the parcel as I couldn't help the sense of itch and piqued my curiosity evolved inside me. Inside was something I could have never imagined. There was a mirror inside. A hand mirror to be specific.

Why would Ashley send me a mirror? And why? Is it some prank but who would make such sick jokes at me and why? I tried to make sense of the situation but I couldn't come up with anything. Nothing was making sense.

My eye darted back to the mirror in my hand. It was beautiful. An antique silver mirror with black resin frame material that skillfully sculpted a stunning black angel on the handle with an oracles' seal on the reverse.

I couldn't peel my eyes away from the mirror. It invoked something in my heart. Something that I couldn't decipher. For some weird reason, my reflection in the mirror made me satisfied. I always knew I was beautiful, but the image of me almost made me feel proud of my looks. Something I have never felt.

It gave me a feeling of empowerment. I felt as if, with this face, I am above everyone and no one is worthy in front of me. Suddenly, I was aware of the narcissistic thought. Tearing my eyes off the mirror, I set it on the table suddenly, scared and confused by my own thoughts.