Cold, frozen in place, unable to move. My legs lay motionless, as if they were tied down by invisible strings of spiders silk. I lay there, panting and in shock as my dream slowly dwindles away, becoming but a memory of a far off nightmare in a matter of mere minutes.
Still, the images that had dared to remain, to reside in the deepest parts of my mind, they haunt me as I stare at a picture of a broken man on the wall. Staring at the empty shell of the man they once were.
The same eyes that had always looked back were now watching in terror, but were they really? Were they really the same? Or had they changed? Become something they weren't, something that they should never have been.
I continue to watch, horrified of the subtle changes in the mans eyes. what was once full of color, wonder and hope, now looked dull and lifeless. One wouldn't have been able to tell that they had looked any different though, that is unless they had known the eyes for their entire life. My face goes grim as I look at the reflection of myself. What had happened? What was so different? Was the mirror reflecting what was truly there? Hidden in plain sight? Or did it show something more? Something sinister and dangerous. Something that wouldn't have been able to have been told. And should never have even been known. The only thing able to escape my mouth is but a simple four letter sentence. The only thing that anybody would be able to ask if they had seen what I was looking at.
"W-Whose eyes are those‽"
YOU ARE READING
The Life of Tiberious Taylor
Non-FictionA story that I wrote over three nights between the hours of 2 am and 3 am. My first ever submission to a public site. Sorry for the lack of paragraphs. At that time of the morning. I couldn't be bothered figuring out where to put them. If enough peo...
