CHARLOTTE

Chapter XII

She took my hand, and the bony figure returned me to where the mirror was. She then directed a monologue to me telling me about the beautiful things in the world and the amount of relationships I could make with people if I just try, if I don't give up on life. I was getting concerned about where the topic of the conversation was going on. But gladly it stopped when we arrived at the flying glass.

At this point I had so many questions, but none of them were correctly formulated. When I tried to talk to her I was like a stutterer trying to present themselves. The mysterious girl shoved off my hand, and the heart-warming mother figure she detached was all gone. A fierceful aura emerged from her body, and the cozy eyes were transformed into a horrible grin. I was afraid the hysterical manners were back. But her maniatic expression was aimed towards the mirror.

It took me a while but I had finally guessed that all the problems were caused by a single mirror. And the crimson haired girl acting like a chihuahua confirmed it all. That thing was the source of all my problems and I had to destroy it. The inconvenience was how. I stepped closer to it, but I couldn't see the woman or myself on it, instead all these pictures of the previous floors were randomly spawning.

Those images could scare the shit out of a kid. But what deep inside I observed, was actually the development of a woman, the development of a frightened child that used to avoid her problems, the evolution of me. Above all the "things" that chased me the way down, there was me, still trying to get some kind of salvation.

I wanted to touch it, I wanted to go and hug my past self, to tell her that everything was fine, but I was scared to do so. A pair of hands grabbed me by the shoulders, but they were gently placed like a mother cuddling her son. I heard a low sentence being spoken. The soothing tone just pronounced the words. -I am you -. And then the warmth of the palms faded away.

I instantly remember about the flower I received, maybe that could be a sign for myself to not stop, to continue no matter how dark the path might look. I took It out from my damaged pockets, but the bloom was intact. I offered it to the magic mirror. Somehow I felt a part of me being lost, but I had to do it. It was the ray of hope I was waiting for. The glass began to rumble and slowly began to absorb it until it was completely gone.

The problem wasn't the building, the floors, the mirror, or my counterpart, the girl crafted by gods in fact whose name was Charlotte. I can't say she was behind everything, instead she was more like a guardian angel, leading my way through to wake up from this dream.

I walked past through the mirror, and while I was getting further to it, the only thing my tired ears heard was the crunch of the glass falling over like If a huge weight had been put on. But actually it felt more like it had been removed.

My imaginary world was coming to an end. And I know the pieces fit, because I watched them fall away. This is my goodbye to this world, to my past, to my name Scarlett, it was now time to go back to the painful reality.

Now with the mirror being broken, the white room was also cracking itself, gray and black lines forming like rivers on a map. My existence in this world will be erased, but that doesn't matter nor scare me, this was the right thing to do. This was finally the time to fully close my eyes.

Here I am, stuck on a bed like a vegetable, not being able to move, or talk. It is hard to think how I'm still able to hold conscious of what's going on, but this is not enough I want to come back, I want to live like a normal person, to apologize to everyone I shut down when they were just trying to help me, I want to visit the graveyard were my parents lie below the grass, I am too young for this, I have a life ahead, but here everyone can see me as a vulnerable corpse with a tube plug in my throat and wires hanging all over the skeleton I kept as a body.

That's my fate after all, the fate of the girl who dyed her hair like the fire, the girl who enjoyed the color of tires, the one who avoided her problems, the girl who suffers from amnesia. Me, Charlotte Adams.