It is cold tonight. The late winter rain banging at the open windows. I am in bed, weeping, just like the sky. Pain and loss etched deep in my soul, I climb off the mattress. I step in front of the mirror and stare back at the dark reflection. Who am I?
Face ashen, eyes sunken, drowning in my tears, my sorrows, I stand alone with my pitiful reflection. I stare into her eyes-- my eyes-- those dark pools of endless depth is tempting me to dive in. I step in, unmindful of any dangers. Its pitch black in here. Suddenly I feel the darkness moving like water in a whirlpool. It's everywhere now, dark and forceful, pulling me in with its might.
I drown, my lungs burning, chest aching, head spinning moving down in a spiral.
I see my life flash before me. I see death. I see only darkness, chaos and turmoil.
There's no saving me, not anymore.
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The Reflection
Short StoryReflection. The word has so many meanings that one loses track. In this context, though? Read more to find out !
