Hi guys, here is my short story for our next workshop. It is an edit of one of the pieces that we did in the workshop with Daksha Patel. It is still a work in progress but I hope you enjoy it!
This Isn't Right
As I look into the mirror, I see fragments of once upon a time, a past staring back at me in broken pieces. I am simply a shadow of who I used to be. I want to live in the present, trust me, I do but I can't. It's not allowed. I'm stuck, frozen in time. I can't move forward, I can't even move backwards. This isn't right.
This is the stuff of nightmares, my nightmares. Those silly little dreams that were dismissed as a child. Nothing can hurt you if you don't want it to. Liars. All of them, they thought they were right because they were older and more experienced in life. But they weren't, they were wrong. It can hurt me. It is hurting me.
The mirror still stands before me, mimicking my every movement with a sinister smile on its face. My face, but not my face. An evil twin, my sworn enemy.
Every time I try and move away from the mirror an invisible hand pulls me back to it. This isn't right. Why am I stuck here? I paid for my sins. I tried to make every thing okay again, I swear I did. It obviously wasn't enough, nothing ever is.
Risking a glance in the mirror, I notice cracks are beginning to appear at the sides, slowly dancing their way into the centre of the mirror, creating a spider web of broken fragments. I glance down, blood is trickling down the mirror's frame. I've been holding on too tight and it shows but I can't let go.
I don't think I want to let go.
No, not any more. Maybe holding on is the right thing to do. Maybe holding on will bring hope. What was that saying? Hope is the only thing stronger than fear. I strongly doubt that but if it's the only thing keeping me in the realm of the sane, then I'll grab it with both hands and never let go.
The room is spinning.
This isn't right.
A piece of the mirror is missing, there's a hole in the glass, the floor is empty. Panic bursts into my mind. Something is very wrong.
My twin, her smile is slowly twisting into a look of blank confusion, most likely mirroring my own expre--
That's me in the mirror. No evil twin trying to hurt me. Nothing can hurt me unless I let it. The past can't hurt me. Only I can hurt myself.
I've found the missing piece of glass, it's in my hand, dripping with blood. My blood. That hurts. Everything hurts. This isn't right.
My shard of glass drops to the floor. I follow it. Two questions attack my mind.
"The mirror?"
Yes, I broke it.
"Me?"
Yes, I broke that too.
No comments:
Post a Comment