She (Mirrors) | Teen Ink

She (Mirrors)

May 19, 2014
By Anonymous

Things have changed. The mirror doesn’t lie. I’m not myself. I’ve stolen someone else. I don’t know what to do. The tears have turned to blood and I can’t feel. I can’t feel anything anymore.

They said the incident wasn’t my fault. I don’t believe them. She haunts me every night, standing at the end of my bed. I’m very childish, pulling the covers over my head. Like sheets could protect me from monsters. I’m beginning to think that I’m the monster now.

I can’t breathe at night. The air gets too thick and the lights are too bright. Especially when I look into the mirror. My lungs feel sewn shut and my vision goes blurred. She is my reflection. She lives in it. Her smile is twisted and toothless. I’m afraid she’s going to kill me one day. The day she does will be the best day of my life. I think today is that day.

I peer into the mirror and she’s there. Her skull is contorted from impact and blood is everywhere. I try not to scream at the sight. I’ve been seeing her for over a year and I’m still not used to the feeling. Or her. Especially not her.

I don’t believe she is a ghost, but she certainly does haunt me. Everywhere I go, she’s there. I wish I could think of her as a guardian angel, but really, she’s just pure terror. If I could turn back time, I would. I can’t live this way anymore.

Her eyes don’t leave mine. I don’t know if you could call them that, though. They’re pitch black, as if they were holes, staring and devouring. She’s making me empty from the inside out until I am nothing. My soul is losing its fire, its light. As we share a look, peace comes over me. She steps closer, reaching her bloody hand out. I go along with it, meeting her halfway, expecting the touch of glass, but instead I feel skin. I’m feeling her.

The panic begins to rise in my throat, choking me. Or maybe it’s her. Fingers closing around my throat, bruising the skin, a burning taste in my mouth.

I blink and realize it’s not her hand around my neck, it’s mine. I release myself, but my wrist is being grasped by her. She’s coming out of the mirror, coming alive. Almost like coming back from the dead. It’s not possible.

She has now completely escaped, a demon climbing out of a fiery pit. She strokes my cheek, bringing me back to a time I don’t want to remember.

It was the night I tried so hard to forget. It was simple, just a couple of drinks. The bitter taste of liquor tasted of love, a love I didn’t deserve. It was stupid, I wasn’t aware of what was happening. Before I knew, I was driving on the road and there were red and blue lights. Sirens screeched throughout the night, an echo. I didn’t get to see who it was, but now I see her every night.

I didn’t mean to.

I am brought back to the present and the regret is taking over. It doesn’t matter to her, though.

She is whispering a language that I’m sure doesn’t exist. Her lips hold a secret I can’t tell and I don’t know what to do. Fingernails scrape down my back, nails that aren’t my own. They prickle like thorns off a rose.

“I want to save you.” I sob, the tears finally dripping down my face. Or maybe it’s blood.

When she speaks, her voice is like the Devil’s himself. It sends shivers down my spine. It is like the sound is bursting my eardrums. It is a yell yet a murmur at the same time, which just couldn’t be.

“Darling, no one can save me. I was and still am and forever will be in hell.”

Then I am down on the ground, life and death flickering before me. Blackness kisses me goodbye and I am gone.
***
GIRL FOUND DEAD, SUICIDE

A girl, unidentifiable, about the age of twenty-three was found in her bathroom, alone. Her mirror was shattered, in pieces all across the floor. Blood covered every inch of the room. She was found; both wrists scratched open with pieces of her fingernails stuck inside. Every piece of skin on her body was covered with scrapings. She was discovered to be mentally insane after a car accident she was in. May she rest in peace.


The author's comments:
I hate mirrors.

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