Reflections

That shadow there, in the corner of your eye. When you look, it's gone. But for just an instant, you can swear you see something. Don't worry, I won't laugh. After all, I see them all the time. They follow me, watch me from the mirrors. I caught one once. Just for a little while, just for an instant. But he was real. I swear it on my life. Before they locked me up, I saw him. There are no mirrors here, no ways for him to find me, or for me to find him. But if you seem them, if you find the phantoms... just run.

4Likes
4Comments
517Views
AA

4. Different Worlds

 When I wake, they ask me things. I answer some, stay silent for others. I am in a hospital, attached to numerous stupid and pointless machines, bruised and broken and stitched back together again after suffering extreme trauma in a car crash. A crash no one else survived. Not the other driver. Not the motorcyclist we rolled onto. Not my mother.
 Finally, after god knows how long, they release me from the hospital, and the police take over the questions. What exactly happened, they want to know? Whose fault was it? Was my mother drunk?
 I don’t answer. Not a single question. I simply wait, staring at nothing, wishing I had a mirror because I need to know. Why did do it? How?
 And, eventually, they decide, as I knew they would, that I am insane. Because let’s face it. I am. I am one-hundred percent crazy.
 They take me to a psych hospital, a mad house where they lock up everyone they can’t fix. But, just before they take me to the room, the padded room without windows, without metal or glass or mirrors, I walk by one. I nice, shiny mirror just big enough to see him.
 There are tears in his eyes, shining dark and black and thick as they roll down his cheeks, leaving muddy stains behind. I think he might even be sorry he killed those people.
 He reaches for me, and I reach back, and for an instant our hands touch. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice low and strange and beautiful. “I’m sorry, Cara. But we are, after all, worlds apart.”
 “A barrier too thick to cross,” I reply sadly. “Shatter-proof glass neither of us can break.”
 And the glass explodes, along with my only hope of ever seeing him again.
 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...