Shatter

Chapter 2: Hallucinations

I pushed open the door, frightened to my core, shivering. 

"Ma'am!" I screamed. "There's this man in the restroom!"

The lady came, running. She walked to the restroom, and pushed open the door. I closed my eyes anxiously. Nothing happened. 

"Honey, it's just... there's nothing. Look." she said.

I opened my eyes. 

Nothing. 

I really am hallucinating these days, I thought. 

"Anyhow, Luna, go take care of the other little ones." 

I was fourteen-years-old. I was likable, and described as being the most polite. I was always that neat little girl who did whatever someone wanted me to do: I was obedient. And, surprisingly, I wasn't tired of being so. I was different. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

I left. When I got to the grand bedroom, everyone was still asleep. 

After I got dressed into the perfectly ironed black and gold dress meant for the big party today, I cautiously peered into the mirror. There was no one, and nothing but glass. I twirled around joyfully on my heel, and left. 

"Oh, dang it," a lady said, irritated, "I forgot the drinks. I'll get them right now. Luna, make sure the kids don't go insane. Also, help Alisa brush her hair properly. She's making it a mess, and the guests will be here anytime soon."

I nodded. I entered the bedroom, and saw Alisa waving her brush around, and weaving her hair between the bristles. I couldn't help but sigh, but laugh silently. 

She was in front of a mirror. 

I inhaled deeply, and convinced myself that there was nothing to be afraid of. I was hallucinating. The man in the mirror was just a bad dream that happened when I was awake. It didn't matter, now. 

But then, just as I opened my eyes, I saw it. A black, cruel, twisted arm, reaching out towards Alisa, from the mirror. You're just hallucinating, I thought, and shook my head to try to clear it out. 

Alisa dropped the brush. It fell to the ground with a clatter, bringing a few strands of hair with it, which caused Alisa to howl in pain and horror. The arm was followed by a familiar face. He cocked its head at me, and his ugly, black lips curled into a sinister smile. "Luna!" Alisa cried, "Help me, Luna—" Her yell was cut off: the black arm wrapped its fingers around Alisa's neck, and she let out a muffled yelp. 

I was worried—I had no idea what to do—I wanted to run away, far, far away from this place, this orphanage. This had never happened. I was fourteen, Alisa was younger: about eight. I couldn't leave her like this, dying, suffering, scared. It was too much for me, no doubt a grand shock for her. 

I was terrified. The man stepped out of the mirror. "Hello Luna," he said. It was the first time he had talked. His voice was like the crackle of a fire, but without the warmth of a fire. I backed away a few steps, but seeing Alisa's pleading eyes, I hesitated and didn't leave. "Luna," the man whispered. "Come to me. Come. Or else this child," he said, looking wickedly at Alisa, "She will die. Come to me." 

I walked a few steps until I was near Alisa. "Let her go." I said, trying with all my effort to let my voice flow and not quiver with fear and fury. 

"Closer," the man said. "Closer. Come closer. Up to the mirror." He smiled again. 

I walked closer. The man released Alisa's throat, and she fell back into her chair with a gasp, but there was something different about her—something I could not describe. Before I could react, his hands were cupped around my chin firmly. They were as cold as ice, hard as stone. I tried to pull back, but I couldn't. I reached towards the small back pocket where I kept the little knife I carried everywhere. It was made of titanium, and it was a gift from my mother before I lost her. It was a piece of her. 

The knife was already in my hand, but then, I heard footsteps. The man looked furiously towards the door, but released my chin, and shrunk back into the mirror without a trace. The door burst open. "What's going on in here?" the lady said, the same one who had commanded me to help Alisa brush her hair. 

"The man in the mirror!" I cried. "It was him. I know it, please, trust me, I'm not making it up. Alisa can prove it... Alisa?!" I turned towards the eight year old girl, but she was calmly brushing her hair, leaving it in no tangles. 

"Luna, you're hallucinating again. Is it time I've took you to the local doctor? The therapist?" the lady sighed. "Come with me. Alisa, put on your dress. How come you're still not dressed? Luna, what were you doing in here?" she shook her head. "Alisa!" she yelled when the girl didn't move an inch. Alisa still did not react. She continued brushing her hair, until it became almost robotic. "Alisa, stop right this moment, and look at me. What is wrong with you children today? Alisa, the guests are already here, someone else is tending them right now. They're seeing all the children today, all." She frowned when Alisa did not answer. "Luna, why is she like this?"

"The man in the mirror. He did something to her!" I said. "Please. Believe me." 

The lady shook her head. 

"Jessica!" Came a voice. "A refill is needed."

"I'm coming!" responded the lady. "Girls, by the time I get back, Alisa must be ready."

"But I can't help her!" I said, nearly a yell in frustration. "She's charmed, or whatever!" 

"I don't care. You're speaking nonsense, Luna. Now, get her ready!" Then, Jessica left. 

I couldn't do anything except simply carry Alisa into her bedroom, away from the mirror the man was in, hoping that she would be safe that night.