Excerpts From Unwritten Stories

Haunted House

Her house is haunted. Not by ghosts, but by pictures that hold a thousand memories.

Every room. Every corner. There he is. Again, and again, and again. She can't escape. Another one, over there by the bookshelf. There's three by the computer. Two on the fridge, two on her desk.

They drive her mad. The smallest reminder of him proclaims his absence. He doesn't live here anymore. He lives with someone else. Some disgusting woman that she doesn't know, but certainly can't stand. Why doesn't she throw away the pictures? Why doesn't she fling her past over her shoulder and accept her present?

Because her heart still hopes. It is, of course, misplaced hope, but it still hopes nonetheless. Maybe he'll come back. Maybe he'll realize that he's an idiot and return to the man he used to be. Maybe he'll apologize and he will choose to put his family first and everything will be as it once was. Maybe he can be her best friend, her ally, her superhero, her adventurer, her teacher, her role model once again.

Reason screams at her. No, no! What are you thinking, you idiot?! He has turned into a monster and there's nothing you can do about it. You've written him letters, you've cursed at him, you've tried to get him to listen. But he doesn't care anymore. He only cares about himself. He isn't the selfless leader you remember him as. He's different now, and you have to live with that.

She rips her eyes away from all the photos of the two of them laughing together, and she happens to look directly in her mirror.

Her heart skips a beat. There he is.

They have the same eyes. The same lips. The tips of their noses point slightly upward in the same way. The structure of their very bones is oddly alike. Everything about her face resembles his.

He is truly inescapable. There he is, hidden in her reflection. Why won't he leave her alone?! Hasn't he already done enough damage?!

She sobs. She wants to break every mirror, shred every picture, wear every mask. But she can't. She doesn't have the guts or the resolve, so she draws black around her eyes every morning to look a little less like him and keeps her wild, untamed thoughts to herself.