The Mirror

/5\

Nicole's POV

He just sat there with this look in his eyes. Every now and then, he would clutch the table with such anger that his knuckles would turn a shade of white.

My heart jumped with every little sound that was made. I was always used to live in an environment that was always cluttered with cars on the streets in New York City. This place was dead silent, and it was killing me. No words were said for what seemed like hours.

The truth was, we had no plan.

He told me to trust me, and that's what I did. At the last second, he gave up trying to pretend there was a little bit of destiny mixed up in this. We were scared, confused, and tortured. A few times I tried working up the courage to ask him who he was and how he got here, but he seemed too isolated in his own mind to even look at me.

The chair squeaked a little bit, forcing me out of my thoughts. I captured a glimpse of Mason getting up and walking to the counter. I figured this was as good of a time as any.

"Plan?" I squeaked.

He turned around and arched an eyebrow at me. I tried to hide my blushed face with my hair full of knots.

"I just wanted to see if there was a plan involved here, is there?"

Just shut up already, Nicole. He didn't saw anything, nor look back at me, but the atmosphere around us seemed tense.

"Is there a reason why you're here?" he finally spoke. It was as if my ears had been unclogged. His question rang in my ears for seconds before his holy voice spoke again.

"Nicole."

His voice was stern, sending past memories of my dad speaking in the same tone whenever I did something wrong. I missed him; I missed my family.

"Not that I'm aware of. So, h-how did you end up here?" I asked with the tiny confidence I had.

"I don't remember. You probably don't either, right?"

"Not exactly. It's like these memories that I know what happened but when I go to think about them-"

"-they aren't there," he cut me off. Somehow it felt like he got closer to me. Sometimes when I looked at him, I thought this was just my mind messing with me, and he was just going to melt into a black puddle, but it hasn't happened yet, so maybe this isn't something I can control like dreams.

"Do you know your family?" I suddenly asked. I remembered my family without a doubt, but again, the memories just weren't there. My mom and dad, my big sister, my little brother. I knew who they were; I knew what they looked like, I knew their personality. The feeling was frustrating. I just wanted to go home.

"Yes," he mumbled. "I'm most concerned about them."

Them? He's the one trapped here with me. I didn't question him, though. I barely knew him, so I decided to leave the conversation go.

"Nicole," he started. "I think we should go into the bathroom."

The thought made my stomach churn. The feeling of being there again, the water swallowing me whole. The question still remained in my head, why didn't she let me die? That's what I wanted to find out. Maybe I could reason with her a little.

"You don't have to worry, I'll be there with you," he smirked. I don't know what changed his attitude, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions. The real worry was him actually being there with me. Sure, he says he'll be with me there, but it seems as though it's inevitable that'll change.