Ch- 10
That is how they find me in the morning, lying in the middle of broken glass and spilled blood, the ultimate epitome of hopelessness.
I think I hear my mother shriek as I lie there, half asleep.
I guess I do look like I've been in some sort of horrible accident.
She calls dad, and he looks at me in a sort of horrified shock.
He gently bandages my hands even before I'm fully awake. My mother carefully cleans up the broken shards of glass and tapes up newspaper in my hollow windowpane for the time being.
They sit me down in the living room, and look at each other grimly before talking to me.
"Lilly . . . are you going through something we don't know about?," mom asks me dismally.
"Uh . . . no?"
She sighs before looking at my father, and then back to me again.
"Is this some sort of sick ploy to get our attention?"
"Wait . . . what?"
The initial shock of the statement jars me completely.
Do they really think I would do something like that?
She sighs again, and she looks so tired.
"You've been constantly harming yourself since we moved here. I want to know why."
"I have not!"
"Lilly, you've been to the hospital three times this month. You've never been to a hospital before that, except when you were born. There has to be a reason. Go ahead. We're listening."
I know they'll never believe the whole mirror thing.
I'm not sure I completely believe it myself.
"Fine. Whatever the reason was, I promise it'll never happen again."
Her eyes look as if they do not believe one word of what I'm saying.
"Are you fine?"
"Yes," I blatantly lie.
But I am not as fine as I seem. (A/N: pardon)
I get off the sofa and go back to my room before I can be interrogated any further.
I can hear mom and dad discussing something that obviously relates to me, but I don't hear much.
I slam the door behind me (that was in the teenager contract too) and flop onto my now glass-free bed.
What did I ever do to deserve this?
The door creaks open again, and this time I'm more irritated than terrified.
I just stomp towards the door and slam it shut again.
Ghosts are fucking irritating.
YOU ARE READING
Cracks in the Mirror
Horror"Honey, we're going to shift to a new house. It will be a bit smaller than this one, but it's gonna be in a pretty...ahem...lovely state", my father, Matthew Smith, broke the news to me. He's a pretty great father, in most aspects, but breaking bad...
