The other side of the Mirror (boyxboy)

Chapter 10.

Aabel’s POV.

I didn’t know the way, but I could feel where I was going. My life in a nutshell. Most people wondered what to do, asked for help from others, searched for advices, consulted with specialists .. And I just listened to my heart. Sometimes I was wrong, but only when I didn’t listen right. And sometimes I just felt that, even when I listened to it, nothing would change.

I knew one thing for sure, though. You don’t value anything until you lose it.

I walked in what seemed to be an endless period of time, wandering around the dark and cold streets of the city. I ended up here by mistake .. and for the first time in my life, I felt curious and .. a bit confused.

I’m usually a man who can answer your every question, no matter what you think of said answer. I answered unspoken ones, too. And unasked. And forgotten. But sometimes I couldn’t answer my own.

I feel vulnerable.

What happened just now, did it have to happen? Could I stop it? If yes, how? Perhaps I shouldn’t have told him to save me. Perhaps I should’ve accepted my destiny. But I felt so .. scared and alive at the same time.

In my world, where everything was quite the opposite to what you know, to feel alive was a unique possibility and a sign that something exciting was happening to you. When it happens, you have to embrace it with both hands and go with the flow, just like you would when you’re about to have sex with your boyfriend. You don’t care about what would happen next, the important thing was to catch the moment, like a surfer catching a big, fat wave. Of course, similar to a drug addict, when the euphoria passes away, you realize the mistake you’ve done.

My turquoise eyes locked onto a pathetic human being, curled up in a tight street I just passed. The man, around twenty years old, sank something thin and sharp in his hand, sighing in pleasure and trembled, falling on his knees. He was dirty, smelly and cold, but the money he had gathered for bread, he used for the next dose.

Yes, even in my world there were drugs. They looked a lot like these the man was taking in the corner of the street, too. They were easy to get – you could practically get them from every hooded figure on our dark roads, but the price was high – you had to pay with both your money and soul.

Here, people take drugs to feel pleasure, joy, happiness, euphoria, inspiration. There, we take drugs to feel pain, sadness, desperation, agony. The common was that we all did it to feel alive.

Where I come from, everything is gray. No red, no blue. No black or white. People are emotionless, the world is colorless. The happiness – unknown. Since such doesn’t exist, we have no other choice but to create drugs, which gives us all the negative emotions possible, and we got such from the volats. We decapitated them, we mashed their bodies. We turned them to dust, mixed them with chemicals, then stir and inhale through the nose, inject it or just lick it off the ground.

I tried once. Such drugs have a different effect on everyone, and the types were countless. I took one for sorrow, and hours after it had affected me, I cried long and hard, feeling .. more alive than ever. And don’t take me wrong, it wasn’t the pain that made me feel that way. It was the fake thought of having something, which gave me the reason to live .. and losing it afterwards. That type of pain was sweet .. it was exactly what I needed .. and it still is.

“Does it make you feel alive?” I asked, standing next to the addict, who was hiding his face with palms and trembled every now and then, curled into a ball. He lifted his head and looked at me with teary eyes, blinking in surprise. As I got closer, I could feel the horrible stench of dirty clothes and filthy human flesh, yet I didn’t flinch. I waited for his answer as patiently as I waited for the next dose in my world.

The man nodded, eventually. He didn’t look aggressive, as some would think.

“ .. is it important for you to feel alive?” I asked again, squatting next to him. I could see the frostbites on his face, his ripped clothes and his empty eyes, which shimmered and filled with emotion only when their owner felt the effect of the drugs.

“Yes.” He answered calmly.

“I’m glad.” I smiled and stood up, passing him by. This was the most important thing. No matter what you do, be it degradation or a career or a masterpiece by drawing, singing, writing, dancing, acting, or just sitting at home all day, reading books and sleeping afterwards, if it made you feel alive, then it was the most important thing. No matter what it was, be it a bird or a certain someone, if it made you feel alive, then it was the reason for you to live and go on. Keep it close. Do whatever you can, just don’t let it slip.

I’ve no idea what time it was, but judging from the happy laughs and Christmas singings, I imagined it was the time when families went out to restaurants and had fun. In other words, somewhere between seven and eight PM. Perhaps even a bit later.

I shrugged and continued walking, once again – with no sense of direction. I knew where I was going – to Devin Winter’s, but how was I going to get there was a question I couldn’t answer. But, hey, why would you need to know everything? You don’t know why you exist, but you continue living, don’t you? Or maybe simply existing and living weren’t the same thing. Yes ..

With my peripheral vision I noticed something bright in the sky, which didn’t look like any Christmas lamps or fireworks. It pulsated in red, hovered around me like a hungry eagle, and waited for the perfect moment to attack.

Or maybe it didn’t wait at all.

“Didn’t think it would start so fast.” I frowned.