Sweet Remembrance

Haunting me

"Liam, do you want me to come back?" the voice whispered, stirring a desperate hope within him.

"Yes! Yes, I do! I'll do anything," he replied eagerly, clinging to the possibility of her return.

"Kill the driver and the kids. They caused my death," the voice commanded, sending a chill down Liam's spine. He was taken aback. Why would his beloved wife say something so horrifying?

"I will do it," Liam whispered, his mind clouded with desperation. If there was even a chance of bringing his wife back, he was willing to risk everything.

But as the reality of the situation settled in, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him. Would he truly be capable of harming his own children?

"Liam, you're the best! I love you," the voice of his wife echoed, filling him with both comfort and dread.

"Ivy," he said, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "What if... What if I sacrificed myself instead? I can't... I won't harm our children. And the driver... It was an accident. He said so himself. Please, I'll do anything to bring you back, but I can't harm innocent lives," he pleaded, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision.

As Liam gazed into the mirror, he saw a familiar face staring back at him—his wife, Ivy. Was it a mere reflection, a trick of the light, or something more? His heart skipped a beat with a surge of happiness, but as he reached out to touch the glass, a wave of fear washed over him.

Suddenly, the walls around him seemed to crack and splinter, and Ivy appeared before him, running towards his brother Michael. Confusion and dread knotted in Liam's stomach as he watched them interact, Ivy's laughter ringing in his ears.

"You're wayyy better than your brother!" Ivy's voice echoed, each word dripping with mockery. "He doesn't do the things I want. He's a wuss!"

Their laughter grew louder, more menacing, filling the room with an eerie echo. Liam's vision blurred, the edges of his reality crumbling away as everything turned bloody and surreal.

"Why, Ivy? Why?" he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. "Don't leave me for Michael! I'll do anything. Just come back to me!"

"Dad?" Tia's voice cut through the haze of Liam's thoughts, her concern evident in her tone. "Are you okay?"

Liam snapped out of his trance, his gaze falling upon his bloodied hands. How did this happen? He glanced at the shattered mirror, a jarring reminder of his recent outburst. When had he broken it?

As he turned to face Tia, he noticed the doll lying on the ground, its head detached from its body. What had he done?

"Tia, I'm going to bed," Liam said, his voice strained with exhaustion. "Don't touch the mirror. It's... it's not safe. I'll clean it up later. Right now, I just need to rest."

Tia's surprise was evident as she watched her father, uncertain of what to make of his behavior she was too young to understand. Before she could respond, Liam walked away, his footsteps heavy with weariness. He tended to his wounds, bandaging them as best he could, before finally succumbing to sleep, the events of the night weighing heavily on his mind.