Two Faces In The Mirror

CHAPTER 3

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

God, make it stop.

The relentless screeching drills into my skull, yanking me out of sleep. I groan, burying my face into my pillow. Someone shut that thing up. The noise grates against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

It takes a second for my brain to catch up.

Oh. Right. My alarm.

I reach out hopelessly, swiping blindly at my nightstand until my fingers finally find the button. The room falls blissfully silent, but the damage is done—I’m awake.

Staring at the ceiling, I let out a slow breath, my chest rising and falling in time with the dull pounding in my head. For a second, I just lay there, unmoving, letting the weight of the morning press down on me. My body feels heavy, my limbs unwilling to cooperate.

Today is going to suck. I can already tell.

It’s a new day, Eli. You’re going to school, and you’re going to be normal. Normal.

I don’t even know what that word means anymore.

For someone who’s been climbing up and down a ladder just to avoid family drama, what even is normal?

I climb down the ladder, landing on the damp grass with a soft thud. The morning air is crisp, carrying the distant hum of a world that hasn't fully woken up yet.

Today is going to be a good day. A normal day.

I take a step forward, then freeze.

There, on the tree in front of my house. A face. Not just any face. Alex.

My stomach twists. My throat tightens.

Today was meant to be a good day.

He's staring at me.

That look on his face, like he's mocking me, taunting me still—even as he's gone.

I swallow hard, my pulse quickening. It feels like he's right here, not just a figment of my imagination, but real. Those eyes, that smile, the way he always seemed to enjoy making me feel small.

I shake my head, trying to clear the image, but it doesn’t go away. The longer I stand here, the more it feels like he's not just haunting my thoughts, but standing right here in front of me.

I force my feet to move, turning away from the tree and towards the street. It doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for this.

But it still feels like he's watching.

I keep staring at Alex’s face, or what’s left of it in my mind, his expression twisted like he’s still mocking me even after all this time. It’s suffocating, like his voice is still echoing in my head, taunting me. And then, suddenly, “Eli.”

The voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and unexpected, and I spin around, my heart leaping into my throat. There, standing behind me like he’s been there all along, is Harry. My mind can’t keep up.

“Jesus, Harry, where did you come from?” I ask, my voice a little more frantic than I intended, my chest tight from the shock.

Harry’s eyes flicker with amusement, but he doesn’t answer directly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I blink, still reeling from the surprise of his sudden appearance. My mind scrambles for an explanation, but there’s no denying it—he did come out of nowhere.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. “Well, guess you’re the ghost then, huh? Just showing up without warning.”

Harry smirks, like he finds it amusing, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes I can’t quite place. “You sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve got more on your mind than just being startled by me.”

I don’t answer him right away. Instead, I glance back at the tree where Alex’s face had been—on a missing poster. The big, bold, red letters above his face read MISSING. The image of his smile, frozen in time, feels like it’s burning into my mind.

It wasn’t real. It can’t be real.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I mutter, trying to shake it off. But nothing feels right today, and I know that’s not going to change anytime soon.

I sit at my desk, trying to focus on whatever Miss Whitmore’s droning on about—something about metaphorical language in Shakespeare. But the words slip past me like water through a sieve. My mind keeps flashing back to Alex’s face, that missing poster burned into my brain.

The classroom feels suffocating, like the walls are closing in around me. I can’t escape the nagging feeling that something’s off. Harry lingers in the back of my mind, but there’s no time to figure him out. My heart keeps thudding in my chest like it’s trying to escape. I feel like I’m losing my grip on everything.

Just as I think I might finally c***k, the loudspeaker crackles to life, breaking the silence. I glance up, and I see the words running across the screen on the wall—a familiar, red-blooded message.

"Attention students. The search for missing student Alex Parker continues. If you would like to volunteer or have any information, please sign up with the front office. Your help is appreciated."

The words blur together for a second, but the meaning cuts through like a knife. Alex. Still missing. I can’t keep sitting here. I need to do something.

Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m on my feet, the sound of my chair scraping against the floor barely reaching my ears. I don’t look back. I don’t think about it. I just walk toward the door, a single thought pulsing in my mind—I’m signing up.

I stare at the signup sheet, my pen hovering just above the paper. I’m really doing this. I’m signing up to help search for Alex. The thought doesn’t even feel real, but it’s the only thing that makes sense in my head right now.

Then, out of nowhere, that familiar voice cuts through my thoughts.

“What are you doing?”

I jump, nearly knocking over my bag, and turn around to find Harry standing there, his arms crossed, wearing that irritating smirk of his. My heart skips a beat—seriously, where does he keep coming from?

“You know you can’t do that,” he adds, like he’s got all the answers.

I just stare at him, feeling my irritation grow. “Jesus, Harry, you’re like a damn shadow I can’t get rid of. Do you just—do you just materialize out of thin air, or what?”

Harry’s expression shifts, his usual cocky demeanor faltering for a moment. I feel the weight of it, like there's something I’m missing. "Wait," I say, narrowing my eyes at him, "you said I can’t sign up. Why?"

For the first time, there’s a shift in his face, like the walls are closing in. He doesn’t answer right away, and the silence between us feels heavier than it should be.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” I press, my voice getting more frustrated by the second. "What’s going on?"

Harry’s eyes flicker, and then he says something that sends a chill down my spine.

“You really can’t remember?” he asks, his tone strange, almost... regretful?

"Remember what?" My voice is sharp now, irritation flaring like fire. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I’m done playing his games.

“If you’re not going to tell me,” I snap, “I’m signing up anyway.” And with that, I turn back to the signup sheet, ready to ignore whatever weirdness is happening around me.

As I fill in my name on the sheet, Harry’s words echo in my head like a broken record. “You really can’t remember?”

I stop mid-stroke, my pen hovering just above the paper. What does he mean? Can’t remember what?

I try to push the thought away, but it lingers, gnawing at me like a persistent itch I can’t scratch. What was I supposed to remember? Was it the dream? The one with Alex’s body, with Harry in it?

I think back, my mind scrambling, but everything feels like it’s covered in fog. The dream—or was it real? It felt too vivid, too real to ignore. But Harry’s reaction… the way his face shifted when I asked about signing up, like he knew something I didn’t. Why would he care so much? Why would he be upset that I don’t remember something?

Something I should know… something I should remember.

The more I try to focus, the more the details slip through my fingers. I can’t make sense of it, but one thing is certain: Harry’s hiding something. And whatever it is... I need to know. But am I ready to face whatever truth is buried in the past? And why does it feel like the answers are just out of reach?

The thought makes my chest tighten, but I push it down. I’m here. I’m signing up. I’m doing something that matters. That’s all that matters right now.