Mirror Image

Chapter 2: Glass

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Chapter 2: Glass.

When glass shatters  I scream, not because I  may get injured but because I might see the jagged images of  my monster, the monster that I am and who I’ll stay.

I’m onset today, for my midweek drama performance and have a guess what we’re doing a remake of, Through The Looking Glass. Only some twisted fate could see humour in this, in my discomfort, did anyone even try to take into consideration that I may have a slight phobia of glass; well, actually my reflection, that the glass seems to distort and take my monster to a whole new level of scary.

I have to carry the glass onset because our Drama Teacher had instructed me to, I wanted to blatantly refuse but knew the teacher would ask questions so I held my head high and walked off to where the glass was covered.

I took the draping red material off and looked at my reflection in this God Awful glass, and I was correct the glass was one of the many things that made the monster look worse, made me look worse. My face was scrunched up in a terrible manner and it looked disastrous.

I wish for me to have no monster but I’m trapped with a burden of carrying a beast within my soul, which could only mean I’m a demon, could it not? I’ve always asked myself silly questions and pondered with the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘impossible things’ such as logic; this in every sense and form has no logic. How am I supposed to believe I’m not going crazy if my mirror image looks like that?

I’ve questioned my sanity from time to time actually, and I’m growing more fond of the idea that I’m hallucinating and that this is all just a figment of my twisted imagination, and if it is, my mind must be pretty screwed up in there.

I take hold of the looking glass and carry it the back way to the stage where we are all setting up, before I make it there though a dreadful voice stops me in my tracks, “A monster is a monster, there’s no denying that,” it’s voice drips with hunger, venom and a slight hiss of control; I’ve heard it once before and I know who it belongs to, the monster, my monster. But it’s enough to make me drop the glass.

It falls and drops, shattering and echoing through the empty corridor, but the echo isn’t just the breaking of the glass it’s the evil laugh that surrounds me and the millions of monsters laughing at me now.

I’m about to run, but then I trip and I fall onto the shards of glass. I scream.

I’m facing not just a monster but the glass.

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Okay, so I hope you like it so far, as I said it's going to be a little weird/crazy, but it'll get better and you'll start to understand.

The chapters will usually be either one or two pages.

Have a fabulous week.

~Jess & Em