Shadows and Broken Glass

Bittersweet Farewell

Mia's nightmare was a vivid tapestry of her deepest fears, woven from the threads of her traumatic past. In the haunting dreamscape, she found herself back in the dilapidated house of her childhood, the walls echoing with the sinister laughter of her abusive stepfather. Her mother, a specter of addiction, drifted through the rooms, unreachable and fading.

The dream twisted further, plunging Mia into the depths of Willowbrook State School, where the cries of the forgotten children melded with her own silent screams. She was chased through the endless, decaying hallways by an unseen force, her legs heavy, her breaths shallow. The harder she tried to escape, the more the labyrinthine corridors seemed to ensnare her.

As the nightmare reached its crescendo, Mia stood before a grave marked with the name of her beloved grandmother, the only beacon of love in her life. But as she reached out, the ground beneath her crumbled, and she was falling, falling into an abyss that promised no end.

******

The first light of dawn had not yet broken the horizon when Mia jolted awake, her heart pounding against her ribs like a caged bird desperate for escape. The remnants of her nightmare clung to her, a chilling echo of screams and shadows that refused to be silenced. She glanced at the clock: 5:21 AM, a cruel reminder that sleep had abandoned her two hours too early.

With a weary sigh, Mia swung her legs over the edge of the bed, the cool air of her apartment wrapping around her like a shroud. The thought of returning to the twisted dreams that awaited her behind closed eyelids was unbearable. She needed an escape, however brief.

She padded softly to the kitchen, where she kept her occasional vice hidden away, and plucked a single cigarette from the nearly full pack — a rare indulgence for moments when the past became too present. She took a glance at the letters still adorning her table. Slipping into her coat, she stepped outside, the pre-dawn stillness of the town enveloping her in its silent embrace, the quiet streets a stark contrast to the chaos of her mind.

The first drag of her cigarette was a sharp relief, the smoke a temporary barrier between her and the demons that chased her. The cigarette dangled loosely between her fingers as she watched the world slowly come to life, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. She leaned against the building, her gaze drifting over the sleeping town, when a familiar figure caught her eye. It was in this quiet moment of solitude that she saw him — Mark, a ghost from her past, materializing from the morning mist.

Mark, her high school sweetheart, approached with the rhythmic stride of an early morning jogger. Panic fluttered in Mia's chest, a fear of judgment, and she quickly snuffed out the cigarette beneath her boot.

"Hey," Mark greeted, his breath visible in the chilly air.

Mia forced a smile, her heart still racing. "What are you doing up so early?"

He gestured to his workout clothes, a silent explanation. His eyes then fell to the crushed cigarette at her feet. "Since when did you start smoking?"

"Just occasionally," Mia replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "When some demons try to reach me."

Concern flickered across Mark's face, but he didn't press further. Instead, they fell into a conversation about the past — the parties, the games, the classmates whose lives had unfolded in unexpected ways, and the sleepovers that felt like a different lifetime.

As they spoke, Mia's mind wandered to the day she ended things with Mark, the day she chose to walk away from what they had.

It had been seven years since she made the heart-wrenching decision to break up with Mark, a choice that haunted her still.