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I came face to face with a mirror. I look at my hands, it's the same hands I use every time I eat at the cafeteria. I'm still wearing that horrible sanitarium dress. I study my features at the mirror. But this one, my reflection is wearing different clothes. My reflection is wearing faded overalls, underneath it is a white long sleeves. There's a locket hanging from her neck, my neck, but when I tried to feel it on mine, there isn't any. My reflection have it, but I don't.
My reflection smiles at me. Sure we look the same, but this one has a glow in her eyes. Like she doesn't have a problem, like she is free. This one is much younger than I am. Maybe this was me before all this mental institution. My life before I was handed to the asylum. There's a lump forming in my throat, but then it vanishes away. I stare at my old self, in front of the mirror. She isn't smiling anymore. More like, she's afraid. Afraid of something. I furrow my eyebrows, she started opening her mouth, still with the frightened expression crossing her features. I don't know how that happened, that one second she's all sunny but then it's like someone had scared her away.
I look behind me, to see if anything that's happening to her right now is behind me. But there is nothing. It is only me in front of the mirror. I looked back at the mirror and now my reflection is crying. Her shoulders moving up and down, she's shaking. Her eyes are bloodshot. She glances up again at the mirror. It didn't took me long to realize that my reflection is afraid of me. None other than me. Guilt rippled through me even if I didn't know what that was all about. Why did she got scared? Of my own? Why is she so afraid of herself? Do I look like a monster? No scratch that, am I monster?
The sobs are now high, and it's the kind of high that pierces through the ears. I cover my ears with my hands but not looking away at the mirror. I held my hand out, trying to touch my reflection. Trying to figure out whatever this was all about. But as my hand touches the mirror, it broke apart. And then there is blood all over. But the blood didn't came out from my hands touching the mirror, it was from inside the mirror, the reflection.
I take a step back, shaking my head wanting to get out of here. But then as I turn around, I see my mom. She is looking at me, all flustered, then shocked after a second. And then she started crying. She look down on the ground and then at me and then I saw her tears streaming down her face, it isn't tears.
It's blood.
I open my eyes abruptly jolting my body from where I was laying down. My mind is racing, my heart is beating so fast it's like I ran miles and miles and then ended up not having water. I put my hand on my forehead, shaking my head at what I just dreamed about. A nightmare. I haven't had a nightmare in weeks. I thought it was giving up on me, but there it is again. Haunting me. But this time, much different. Much frightening.
"Hey you're awake," an old nurse rushes towards me with a tray of food in her hands. Then I realize I am not in my room. I look around and there are a few other beds in here. There is a patient sleeping on the bed two rows away from me. So I am at the clinic, I figured.
