35 ᴍᴍ ꜰɪʟᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ I 🎀 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒾𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓂𝓈 [𝑔𝓍𝑔] 🎀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟖: 𝟐𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐈𝐈𝐈. [𝐌/𝐓𝐖]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 28 [ᴍ/ᴛᴡ]

"Get it together," Charlie muttered to herself, her voice tight, choked with frustration. But the more she tried to breathe, the more it felt like she was suffocating.

Back in the bedroom, Gracie stood in the same spot, her heart aching as she listened to the faint sounds coming from the bathroom. She wanted to fix this, wanted to help Charlie put herself back together, but she knew she couldn't do it for her. Not like this.

Inside the bathroom, the walls felt like they were closing in on Charlie. The dim light above the mirror flickered ever so slightly, casting her reflection in a strange, shifting glow. She stood hunched over the sink, gripping its edges as if it were the only thing tethering her to reality. The sound of the water running was distant, like it was happening in another room, in another world.

Her breathing was shallow and erratic, and her mind was spinning out of control. The reflection in the mirror stared back at her, but something was off. Her own face looked distorted as if the glass itself were bending, twisting her features into something unfamiliar, something grotesque.

She blinked hard, shaking her head as she tried to steady her vision. "What's wrong with you?" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper but sharp with frustration.

Charlie's reflection didn't look away. Her wide, frantic eyes followed her every move, but there was something else—something behind her eyes. It wasn't just anger. It was fear. Fear that she was losing control, fear that she was spiralling deeper into the abyss and no one could pull her out.

"No, no, no, this isn't happening," Charlie mumbled under her breath, her voice trembling as she gripped the sink tighter. The room felt like it was tilting, the corners of the mirror warping, and her reflection began to blur, almost melting in front of her. She leaned closer to the glass, her forehead nearly touching it as she stared into her own eyes, searching for something—anything that made sense.

The edges of her reflection shimmered, the lines of her face bending, warping in ways that didn't feel natural. Her reflection began to move independently of her, smiling back at her—a twisted, crooked smile that sent a chill down her spine.

Charlie jerked back, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at the figure in the mirror. "Stop it," she hissed at her reflection, her heart pounding in her chest. "Stop... doing that."

But the reflection didn't stop. It stared back at her with wide, mocking eyes, the grin spreading unnaturally across its face. Her reflection's mouth moved, but the words it spoke didn't match Charlie's own.

"You're slipping," it whispered, its voice eerie, disjointed. "You can't keep it together. Look at yourself."

Charlie stumbled back, her back hitting the bathroom wall as she pressed a hand to her chest, her pulse racing. She clenched her eyes shut, her mind swimming in a sea of distorted thoughts. "This isn't real," she muttered to herself, shaking her head violently as if she could shake the images loose. "This isn't happening."

But when she opened her eyes again, the reflection was still there, grinning wickedly back at her.

"You're falling apart," it whispered again, the words crawling into Charlie's mind like sharp needles. "You've always been falling apart."

"No," Charlie whispered, her voice shaking. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, but the image in the mirror wouldn't let her go. "No, I'm fine."

But the reflection only laughed, a low, mocking sound that echoed in her ears, bouncing off the bathroom walls in a way that felt surreal, like the room itself was coming to life.