Feather

chapter two

Inhaling sharply, I try to explain myself, "Babe, the pictures were talking. I don't know, but I kept walking. Like you said, it's all in my head."

Sacha's brown hair is quickly thrown into a bun, "Jason, I-I don't know what to say." With my head laying on her lap, she runs her callused fingers through my hair. "Just forget about it for now; I'm going to make breakfast," she abruptly announces, trying to change my mood.

"Okay, whatever you say," I huff out, trying to be positive. As Sacha gets up, she pulls down my shirt that's tugging against her body, covering her bum that's only clothed with a lacy fabric. Sacha stands to her feet, stretching her freckled arms above her head, letting out a gasp.

My beauty groans in exhaustion, "Babe, what would you like to eat?" Her left eyebrow arches, showing in her expression that she is listening.

Sacha bites her lower lip when I answer in my low hum, "You." She chuckles lightly, kissing my reddened cheek. I'm laying on my back, feeling the warmed sheets touching my spine. Her small, fragile hands grip my torso, lifting me into a sitting position.

"I'll be back," she whispers into my ear. Sacha gets up to use to the restroom, which leaves me alone in my own thoughts. I look around in my familiar room, feeling uncomfortable.

"Look into your mirror and tell me what you see," I hear someone say. Feeling like I have to follow the voice, I walk up to my blue dresser with a dusty mirror.

Looking at my tear stained face and blue eyes, I answer, "I see. I see a... a m-man. I think he's a man."

Laughter fills my ears, "You're bad at following instructions. Tell me what you see." The voice has become stern.

My trembling voice responds, "I see, a f-failure. With stupid hair. A-And I see, fat. Fat everywhere. Tears on fat. I see someone who can't control their mind. I see someone with a bitter look." Every word I say continuously gets louder and the feeling of anger rushes through my pale cheeks, painting them red. "I see a worthless bastard!"

"Exactly. You could of just said you see yourself," this voice is booming in my ears, "Look behind you."

Turning around, I see nothing but my messy bed. "The other way jackass," the voice groans.

The only way I could look was into the mirror, "This way?" My voice hitches as I point towards the reflection of the room. It's silent, but when I focus my eyes to the left of my bare shoulder, this black mass with red eyes looks over me. In panic, I turn my head to hit the face, but it's gone.

Staring back into the mirror the face talks, "You'll never get rid of me until I get rid of you." His broad laugh shakes my body.

Alarmed, I throw the first thing I see into the reflection. It's a fake diamond hair brush that Sacha's used since we met, but now I don't care if it broke.

As I'm slamming the mirror, I hear a scream, "What the fuck Jason?!" Turning around, my admirable girlfriend had a face with clear frustration plastered against it. "My brush!" She yells, but her face softens when she notices the tears dripping out of my eyes. "Go to the kitchen and get some water. Take a break, and don't look at anything but the water. Relax baby, it's okay." Sacha huffs out, trying to be calm about the situation.

Gripping the white carpet with my toes, I react, "I panicked. I just d-didn't know what to do-"

"Go get some water baby. Please," her voice is so sedative. I nod my head quickly and run out the room, being careful to not slam the door on the way out.

"Look what you did. You made her mad," heavy breathing fills my ears.

"I'm sorry," my voice croaks out.

"You're a horrible person," the mysterious person whispers.

"I know," I mumble and steadily walk over to the clean kitchen.

(unedited)