Mirrors

Hidden Demons

Chapter Twenty:

Hidden Demons

Everyone has a story. Chapters are written throughout one’s lives, filling each page with events and predicaments. Each word is important; each moment has their ups and downs. But many find their lives futile, as if they don’t ever belong on Earth. But they don’t understand; their story is as important as a hero falling off a cliff or a damsel finding her prince. Not many people realize that no matter how small they seem, they could make an enormous difference.

I closed my eyes, letting my other four senses talk all about the setting. I couldn’t bear to watch; it would only bring me to tears. The birds were chirping. A cool breeze made me shiver in place. The smell of rain filled my lungs. The salty air smelt as if I could almost taste it. Various pebbles rocked back and forth, cushioning my bare feet. A loud crashing of the waves relaxed me. Seagulls screeched at each other; the noise almost tore through my ear drums. Suddenly, the frigid water shock through my feet. After the wave declined little pricks started to poke at me, sticking onto my legs—grains of salt I presumed.

“Open your eyes.”

Slowly my eyelids lifted, I found myself standing by a lonely beach. A dark cloud hung over, covering the sky like a blanket. I searched for any hint of blue, but there was nothing in sight. The water reflected the color of the sky, making it look dull. The beach was filled with white, rough, oyster shells. Rocks and boulders of different sizes were covered in barnacles and seashells. Starfishes scattered around.

This wasn’t my ideal picture of a beach.

This was the Pacific Northwest; the coast of Washington State to be more precise. This was the change that I had to go through. From having sun almost three hundred days a year to only having the sun come out less than half of the year. Winter blues visited me every year. Loss of energy made me groggy all the time. The constant rain made me stay inside more. The outdoors was what I craved, but the weather here at Washington didn’t agree with me. The weather wasn’t the only thing I disliked. I later hated it more and more.

Moving was just the very start of the series of unfortunate events.

A small dock sat on top of the water, moving along the flow of the waves. At the end of the dock sat little Irene—Valerie as she started calling herself after the move. She sat there with such aloofness; it almost seemed like she was half-asleep. Half of her calves sank underneath the freezing water, but she didn’t seem to care. Her hair flew on top of the wind, whipping along the air. Although she held on to the dock with a tight grasp, she let it move her in any way it went. She was a frozen statue, enjoying her solitude. Where was the little Irene that I knew and loved.

The constant smiling was gone. The straight, confident back didn’t rise in pride. A diminutive amount of fat covered her body, though pretty much unnoticeable. Her eyes weren’t coherent; they seemed too lifeless. The golden glow of her skin faded away, turning into a dull greyish color.

What happened to little Irene?

“Hey! I’m Valerie!” a high squeak called out from out of the blue. Another girl looked at her, surprised, then walked the opposite direction as she rolled her eyes. A friend accompanied her, whispering menacing things about Valerie. Valerie pouted, feeling a bit embarrassed. But she shrugged it off and managed to say hello to a new group of friends.

I stood there in silence, half wanting to close my eyes as the awkward scene played before me. I was smiling, remembering that day. In retrospect, it was the cutest thing ever. But at the time, my confidence diminished every time I made a move. Your own mind is your enemy; you live with the torture for the rest of your life. This nagging voice digs into your thoughts, screaming out every doubt you have in the most unfortunate of places. For some, it would be the driving force that leads them on. For others, it could be their downfall.