Based on a True Story
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We looked into the mirror, even our reflection didn't want to see our screwed up and ugly face. The back of our own head taunted us in the thickness of the bedroom. The door was knocked upon once, no two, no three times. Bloody murder shouted at us. Oh it screamed and screamed. Spots fading in and out across the wall, our clothes having small barcodes rush across them.
A big, bulky shadow by the light switch, it was a mix between a deformed, morphed pig and Momo. It creepy smile shuddered the skin that felt out of place and leathery. We were crying, letting out loud sobs, in front of these creatures. The splotches danced across the walls, always looks through our skull into the wet, salty eyes.
We could only think of one thing to take them away, Blood. Blood would tear them from vision. Blood our old friend, won't you come out once again.
We grabbed a screwdriver, lifting it up, up, up. Swinging it down, the skin rippled but was unharmed.
"Come on useless skin, why don't you break, why don't you break, why don't you break, WHY DON'T YOU BREAK. Come on! Come on!"
The shadows stayed still, waiting for the opportunity to come forward a strike. We scarped the edge of the screw driver through our skin, back and forth. Oh how it stung, oh so much so much. Finally the first scar bordered the skin. Oh it was grimy and slimy. We looked on in delight as the liquid went down the arm that had never felt like ours. Oh sweet bliss. The shadows went away, but our reflection never did. It refused to look at us.
Did we really do that much damage? The ground showed red and soaked with blood and dead bodies. Oh horror, Oh Horror!
We sulked looking at our reflection whom had gone astray, and barely visible. We starred, till without permission our are punched the mirror, blood aligned our knuckles, dripping to the dresser. It was done, it was over, right?
We collapsed on our bed, thinking to ourselves, dying down in our lost and deeply buried thoughts. All the taunts and names. We were swallowed away forever.
"Fukase! Come downstairs!"
We were in a trance, woken by such a voice, thus the voice of our problems. We got up, looking back in the now fixed mirror, our reflection looking back at us. Sad, but it was there.
The shadows were gone, hidden away from sight.
And thus the cycle is at its beginning once again.
