The Keyhole In the Mirror

II

          Good. You came back. I knew you would-- look at those beautiful eyes, you obviously wanted more, didn't you?  That was rhetorical. Don't answer it-- moving on.

               So, where was I? Ah, yes.It was the kind of keyhole you would use a skeleton key to unlock...Or in other words, the kind that's terrifically easy to pick. 

                Something to know about me: I'm pro at lock picking. Scandalous, I know.

                I hung up my towel and hurried to my room. Before you could say, "Don't run with scissors," I was back in the restroom with the aforementioned household weapon. Carefully, I eased one of the blades into the slot. 'Gently now...'   The silence pounded into my ears, eerily  quiet. 

              Suddenly the silence was broken. By me. More specifically by my own scream of pain as it seared my arms. Darkness and heat crowded my vision. Blood in the sink; on my hands. 'OHMYGODHELPMEIJUSTKILLEDMYSELF.' Not the most eloquently phrased though, albiet, but I was having a panic attack. As so often happens when one is bleeding and having a panic attack, I...dropped like a sack onto the floor. And not much can be remembered after that.  

                                            A lesson for all to learn from that?

                 Don't stick metal objects into mysterious holes.

                                                               >~<~>~<~>~<

                      Thankfully, I didn't actually die. Yeah, I know, big shocker-- hey, stop giving me that look. You know you were concerned. 

                    When I woke up, my ears pounded with silence. Silence to the point of pain. When you're surrounded by the modern hustle, bustle,and noise, you never once stop to think that absence of sound could hurt so much. 

                          "Uuuunnnghgnnnngghhh..." The unappealing noise escaped my groaning mouth as I sat up, cursing my headache. Sounds like that are why I'm single. I may tell everybody it's because I'm a hipster (which is a lie), I'm not ready for another roller coaster riide of the heart, I believe in feminine independence and I'm just a terrible person or all the guys our age suck, but....

                     Yeah, nope, I think it's just the noises I make when I'm half dead. Also my morning hair. And my morning face.And my hair in general. And my tendency to float off topic.

                     Unexpectedly, someone shoved their stupid little face into my line of view. I screamed; they screamed, a high pitched shriek of terror. It was like in those cheesy romance movies-- I blinked, he blinked, we kissed, fell in love, made a million dollars off of his exotic cure for cancer in puppies, and lived happily ever after. Except, you know, this wasn't romantic at all. 

                       "It's ALIVE!!!" I shouted, jerking back. I hit my head on the counter behind me. I screamed again, this time not just out of shock, but pain.

                                "Calm down, calm down!" roared the uninvited visitor. I looked around wildly for the accused intruder. My eyes alighted on mossy green hair and blue eyes. My first thought was hair dye. Then I  saw the skin. Skin dye? Was that a thing? Could you dye skin lima-bean green? And the ears. Ay, was it possible to have ears that pointy naturally? Was this what became of some poor child who never stopped believing in Santa and developed a passionate obsession with all things fantasy, lived in a cave as they slowly went insane and contacted their local plastic surgeon? 

                        "Who are you?" I demanded shakily, dangerously wielding a bar of soap. "How did you get in my house? What do you want?"

                        Little Miss Green Bean took a sep closer. I took a hasty step back and yanked out a shaving razor from the medicine cabinet. The blood stains from earlier were making me nautious, and my hands trembled. We both froze (aside from my shivering opposable appendages). Our eyes met.

                        Then I realized something: those ears were real. No plastic surgeon could have done that-- made them match her features, her face, her body.

                                                        I passed out again.

                                         >~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~> 

Spinning.

Stars. 

Dizziness.

Someone with an annoying, tinny voice like a mosquito was shaking me by the shoulders. "Wake up! I know you're awake!" I hit the mosquito person in the face and kicked them off weakly. With speed and agility I didn't know I possessed, I pinned the bug to the wall. 

                  If looks could kill, we would've both been reduced to ashes. The moment was full of quiet tension. Everything was still, holding it's breath. (Or would have, if toilets and shower stalls had breath to hold.  )

                   Crystalline blue eyes met brown, and then three words pierced the air. 

"Who

                                 Are

                                                                   You."

                           It wasn't a question; it wasn't a statement.

                          It was a command.

                       The creature bared it's tiny, pointed teeth at me and hissed in my face, the dark mossy hair obscuring my view of all things other than she. 

                                                                         "I am you."

>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~~>>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~

Hey, so how'd you like it? Review/favorite, please? Sorry if there's some spelling errors. My keyboard keeps glitching. I hope I was able to satisfy your literary needs for the moment....