I stared into the mirror. The person that stared back both scared me and intruiged me in equal measures. He was not the boy I knew; not the person I used to be. Life had seen to that.
My mousy brown hair had a hint of golden-blonde and was profusely messy, no matter how much I tried to tame it. I was lanky, lacking any visible muscle, but I was by no means too thin.
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, and examined my face. My eyes were the only thing I liked about it, deep and blue, yet now they held an aura of fear, of shattered memories, of pain and evil.
The dream; what did it mean? I tried to remember every detail of the night terror; the knife, the wound, the boy. The boy. I knew him. I stared into my eyes, the ones identical to his, yet no possible conclusion came to mind.
I looked deeper into the blue, as though the answers lay within them. Klunk. The sound of the door closing interrupted my thoughts.
"Jesus Shane, you can't just stare into that mirror all day!" Tony - or 'Tone' as he was often known - laughed, collapsing on his bed, "This is an orphanage, not a bloody modelling agency!"
I snorted with laughter, "You ready to go Tone?"
"Yeah dude, just give me a sec"
I took one last glance in the mirror, the dream still fresh in my mind, then looked away.
