.~The Divinity Of The Unsane~.
There's an identity crisis four young adults are facing. On the verge of discovering themselves, they are faced with so many obstacles that either saves or kills them.
Priscilla Elzer South is the only daughter of a re...
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~☆PRISCILLA ELZER SOUTH☆~
Every layer, I mean every single layer of my covering was gone and I stood bare before Aunty Tori who standing before the ornate mirror, beckoned on me with those long, red bloodied nails to come.
How could it be that I just noticed those forbidden nails now?
I walked with a heart pounding so furiously, so recklessly, I thought it would burst through my ribcage, tear through my chest and lead to my undoing.
Standing beside Aunty Tori, I let her push me towards ornate mirror. And that she did, gently and intentionally such that upon taking a step to the right, she stood directly behind me.
"Look into the mirror, Cilla.
She placed a hand on my left shoulder and my head tilted up in sync, staring at our awfully distorted reflection.
Round, Intense, Hard- Her eyes were like that of father. Her brother.
I couldn't stand myself in the mirror. It was lying, making a fool of me and my fist clenched impulsively to strike it. Cause I know we'd look better in a broken mirror.
For it would remind us of all our missing parts and those which unknown to us, we were gradually losing.
"Relax your muscles. You're freaking out." Aunty Tori whispered behind me.
Right. I'm going nuts because I hate looking into mirrors. I stopped having one when I was eight, until now.
"What do you see?" Aunty Tori stared at me through the mirror with the most stern eyes.
They looked reddish-brown, like a fine blendof grapes. An exotic choice of colour, her eyes chose to bear now.
"Us." I see lies.
It definitely has to be hypnotism. Cause what in the fury of hell am I doing in front of this glass monster, bared even to the soul, acting out her orders?
I don't know what jazz she's using or its potency but my head is spinning because it's working and I think I'm helpless.
Fuck.
I hate to cuss at times like this but I'm staring at my rough arms through the mirror. It's like burnt sausages, blemished and abhorred by buyers, because why the hell is Aunty Tori's eyes glistening with un-shed tears?
I un-clenched my fist.
"No, No. You don't need to focus on me." She moved away from behind me, her champagne eyes lingering at my back, bringing to me the consciousness that my back is as fucked as my arms.
