Desmond sat in the garden with his fair delicate long fresh legs crossed together. He was putting on a blue short knicker, and a plain white round-neck shirt.
He was enjoying the cool morning fresh air with a hot coffee in his hand when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his palms. The mug dropped and broke. All of a sudden, his fists started clenching so tight that he couldn't control them.
"What's happening with my hands? Why are my fists clenching when I'm not angry?" He murmured to himself while trying to force open it but all to no avail.
Desmond ran inside to take his medicine as usual but was surprised by what he saw when he walked past the mirror in a hurry. He stopped in his tracks and walk back slowly to the mirror.
He saw another reflection that differs from his usual self in
