Dark Side of the Mirror

Introduction

Stop. Do you hear that? The bustle, the racket or maybe the stillness? What is it that takes hold of you when you really stop? And I mean really stop. Do you think of where you are going? Where you have been? Who you are with? Maybe who you have lost along the way? Or is it just the impulse? Moving with no real thought, only out of reaction to the goings on around you? Is it the impulse that controls you? Impulse is not always bad, but when it is not under your control, it can leave devastation in its wake.

I've been running, it may have only been for a few minutes, it could have been for a few hours, I don't know, but what I am sure of is that all I can feel is the rain running down my face. What am I running from? What am I running to? I feel the gentle tug of my heart within my chest which then quickly turns into a very aggressive compulsion. "Keep running! Turn back! What else is there for you? Get help! No, it is too late!". Far too late.

My shoes are now clinging onto my feet in complete fear of falling off with my toes struggling to stay within their protection. I can't, it's too much, I just can't do it. My long-sleeved white shirt is sucking on the skin of my arms whilst my jeans suffocate my legs. Maybe I should turn back? Perhaps I could find help?

The ground beneath me is pitiful, a cold surface that stares straight back at me, begging for me to stop. No, not this time. I turn to run in the direction I have just come, suddenly finding a purpose and a determination in my step. Unfortunately, this is far too short-lived as I find that the very breath from within my lungs is snatched from me as something grabs at the collar of my shirt and I am dragged onto the floor into the oncoming darkness. Tears are rolling down my face but the grip and the strength of whatever has grappled my collar is unforgivable. There is no way out. I scream.