HEALING MIRRORS

9

As I heard her soft voice say 'thank you', I felt a pang in my chest, knowing this might be the last time I see her. I wanted to look back, to catch one last glimpse of her angelic face, to memorize every detail so I could replay it in my mind again and again.

I knew I would never get bored of her, of her presence, of the way she made me feel alive. The thought of never seeing her again made me realize how much she meant to me, how much I cherished every moment we spent together.

My sorrow deepened with the realization that this chapter of my life might be coming to a close, leaving me with nothing but memories and the hope that maybe, someday, our paths would cross again.

Entering the car, I saw my best friend, and I remembered the rage I had felt towards him for not answering my calls. But now, my mind was consumed with thoughts of her, her voice echoing in my ears, her image etched in my mind.

The moment when I reached for my phone, I caught sight of her blushing cheeks, a result of her shyness. I chuckled at how cute she looked, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in my arms. But I knew I couldn't, so I tore my gaze away and left, the memory of her lingering in my thoughts.

Finally, when I got home, I was exhausted. I took a hot shower, ate some food, and crawled into bed. But even as I lay there, my mind was still consumed with thoughts of her. Her voice, her smile, her eyes, they were all I could think about. How could someone be so perfect, so angelic?

What was she doing here on this planet, in my life? The scent of her towel, the smell of her on my jacket, it was all I could smell, all I could think about.

I was lost in her, drowning in her essence, and I never wanted to come up for air. Each moment with her felt like a dream, a beautiful fantasy that I never wanted to end.

I recalled the moment we met. I was in anguish with my best friend for not answering my calls, my head spinning with anger.

I dialed his number repeatedly, but he didn't pick up. I was about to explode with irritation.

I banged my foot on the accelerator, speeding down the road, when suddenly, a girl appeared out of nowhere, crossing the road without looking around, oblivious to her surroundings

Her sudden appearance startled me, and I slammed on the brakes just in time, narrowly avoiding hitting her. Thankful that she was unharmed, I was about to unleash my pent-up anger on her when I noticed something strange.

She was trying to run, to escape from something, but her ankle and knee were badly injured. She struggled to stand up, the pain evident on her face, yet she didn't give up, trying to run despite her injuries. Her determination struck me.

As I gazed at her, my temper dissolved, replaced by concern. The lavender flower she clutched lay scattered on the road, trampled and forgotten. Her food, too, was wasted, a casualty of the heavy rain.

Despite managing to cross the road, her injured ankle and knee had forced her to halt. Lost in her thoughts, she stood there, My heart clenched for her, for the pain she endured, both physically and emotionally.

Without hesitation, I opened my car door and stepped out into the rain, determined to retrieve her scattered flowers. As I gathered them from the wet pavement, I glanced up and saw her watching me, her eyes wide with surprise. A mixture of emotions-shock, gratitude, perhaps even a hint of panic -reflected in her gaze.

A pang of regret washed over me. In my fury and frustration, I had been blind to everything but my own emotions.

I approached her, determined to offer assistance in any way I could. But now, standing in front of her, seeing the agony and fragility in her eyes, like an open book to me. I knew I had to make things right.

Her cheeks were flushed red, whether from the cold rain or her emotions, I couldn't tell. She was shivering, struggling to stand.

I gently reminded her to take care of herself while crossing roads, grateful that I had managed to break in time to avoid a disaster.

She reached out her hand towards me, silently asking for the flowers I had picked up for her. Throughout our interaction, she kept her gaze down, perhaps out of horror of our closeness or Sheepishness for her earlier actions.

I handed her the flowers, our fingers brushing briefly. She looked up at me, and as our eyes met, something shifted inside me. All my ire and worry seemed to vanish, replaced by a profound calm coursing through my body.

I was lost in her eyes, drawn to them like a moth to a flame. They were as deep as the Pacific Ocean, holding mysteries and wonders beyond my comprehension.

But just as quickly as our eyes met, she lowered hers and ran off as if she had seen a ghost. I stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move, still lost in the depths of her gaze.

She had captivated me in a way I had never experienced before, and I knew in that moment that she would forever hold a place in my heart.

I found myself lost in their depth, like staring into the endless expanse of a moonless night.

They were black, yet not devoid of light; they held a mysterious allure, a silent invitation to unravel their secrets, marveled at how they seemed to reflect the world around them, mirroring the emotions and thoughts that passed between them.

In those eyes, I saw strength, vulnerability, passion and compassion, all blended into a mesmerizing hue that captivated his soul.

I knew then that I could spend eternity drowning in the depths of her ebony gaze, and would consider it a life well spent.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I saw her struggling to stand. Without hesitation, I offered to give her a ride, but as I finished my sentence, she fell again, the flowers slipping from her grasp once more. Remorse washed over me as I moved towards her, extending my hand for support.

She looked up at me, her eyes reflecting her misery and shame. I felt a pang in my chest, wishing I could take away her suffering.

I helped her stand, supporting her weight as she regained her balance. As our eyes met again, I saw a flicker of gratitude in hers, and I knew that despite our brief and tumultuous encounter, a connection had been forged between us.

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