Paranoiac

CHAPTER 8

I gasped in air like a woman just resuscitated from drowning, but I just couldn't seem to steady my breathing. I continued crawling backwards until my shaking body was slammed up against the wooden cabinets in my kitchen. I kept seeing her face in my mind, my face! It couldn't be. It made no god damn sense! She was just a little girl! I'm a grown woman. I kept trying to rationalize it in my mind but I simply couldn't. Everything was the same, the vivid green eyes, the dark hair, the thin harsh lips, the pale birthmark just above the right eye, and most importantly, most unmistakeably mine, was the look of sheer terror streaked across her face. I had looked into the mirror and seen it reflected back at me far too many times not to recognize it. She was still pounding on my door as if her life depended on it, screaming as if her very world would collapse if she didn't burst her lungs open trying to call out to me. Part of me wanted to shy away, hide in my little room and shut everything else out. Shut her out. The other part of me wanted to fling open the door, gather the little girl in my arms and reassure her that everything was going to be okay, that I could protect her. But I knew that I couldn't do that, I couldn't protect myself much less someone else. Or was it someone else? I buried my face in my hands, sobbing until my own wails almost matched the decibel of hers. I cried on the floor until my eyes were raw and my face blotchy, only stopping when the silence in my house again ensued. I shakily got to my feet, curious about how quickly the screaming stopped. This was twice in a row now, would she come back? I slowly walked up my stairs, my feet moving out of instinct and pattern rather than any direct commands from me. I took off my clothes in a daze, I tried to shut my brain off as I slipped under the cvers, methodically stroking my cat as I struggled to keep my eyes closed. I refused to think about her, I couldn't let her win.