What kind of things does a mirror hide? Sometimes it's better not to know.
The world behind the mirror shows us different things; our lives are different, so are the people we know, and of course, also we are.
Good is bad, light is dark, a dream bec...
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I let out a soft sigh as I start to feel uneasy for no apparent reason. I didn't feel the need to get up since I woke up a few minutes ago, so I kept my eyes closed like usual, but as the feeling of discomfort grows stronger, I force myself to wake up completely.
As my eyes flutter open, I immediately notice why I felt so uneasy. Right on the couch in front of me, with an old torn apart book in hand, there's the guy I recognize from the police station.
A scream almost escapes my lips, but I manage to suppress it just in time.
I stare at him for a few seconds before he finally looks up from the yellowed pages to glance at me.
"Oh, you're wake. Good. How do you feel?" he questions politely, smiling softly.
"How do I feel? Is that so hard to guess?" I huff and cross my arms. "Confused, of course," I reply with a raised eyebrow.
He puts his book down, crossing his legs on the couch. "Understandable. But tell me, confused about what exactly?"
I let out a soft, cynical laugh. "About what? What am I not confused about? First someone who seems to be another, more creepy version of me gives me the feeling I want to crawl underground and never come up again. Then, before I know what's even going on, I'm being arrested and accused for a whole list of things I somehow expected to hear, but I never did. Then a weird guy, a.k.a. you, comes and literally helps me escape the damn prison, reserves me a hotel room and is now in my room like a freaking creep. And if that's not enough, I have no idea where I am either. This is my world, but at the same time, it's not, but-" I rattle as my breathing grows heavy.
The black haired guy lets out a soft sigh and gets up, walking over to me. "Calm down, Sierra," he mumbles.
My heart stops beating for a second as I stare at him in disbelief. "You know my name? How do you know my name? You're just a creep, aren't you? The kind who kidnaps girls. But hey, I was an easy target wasn't I-"
"Of course not, just calm down, please," he asks me, cutting me off. "I was at the police station, remember? Of course I know your name then," he reminds me, his voice staying gentle the whole time.
I bite my lip softly and let my head drop in my hands desperately. "I'm becoming paranoid, aren't I?" I whisper, my voice shaky from the stress.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to find the guy looking at me ruefully. "You aren't. You are perfectly fine, Sierra. You're just confused, and that's okay. I understand that. But I'm here to help you. Not as a creep, but as someone who might be able to bring you back to your world."
I nod slowly, breathing in a shaky breath. "Alright. Thanks, I guess. I'm sorry... I just... tend to panic fast," I tell him with a frown.
"It's okay. Like I said, it's only normal to react like this. You fell head first into another world. No one can expect you to act like you don't care," he tries to soothe me, and he actually succeeds. Kinda.
