Madness

chapter 4~bits and pieces

The next several days dragged on like an echo slowly sinking away. Nothing felt even remotely right but somehow Elena started to get used it. Her clouded senses and fractured mind were slowly fading from her memory. Every now and then Fake-Elena's deformed reflection broke into her mind and left a black well of terror to wash over her. Each wheezing step, each sharp creak or faded rustle would make her mind twist and leave her tense with Fake-Elena in her mind.

Something was missing. She wasn't entirely sure what was missing but it made her feel like a cracked doll stuffed with twigs, leaves and dust. It left her feeling strangely alone and vague. Each morning she would wake up with all too familiar feeling, the feeling of being shattered. Elena couldn't. She wasn't sure what she couldn't but it scared her to know how much she couldn't

Throughout the day, whether she was working or peering into the starless night, the same thought would creep through Elena's mind. Am I falling apart or dying? She felt odd but she didn't think it was death. Death gave her the impression of a loose, cold peace and a hollow ache- the feeling of nothing. However, what she felt refused to truly show itself for it came in bits and pieces which was exactly how she felt. Elena never truly felt whole giving herself the feeling of a broken toy.

Each time she caught her reflection in the mirror it seemed out place- not only the herself but herself. Everything seemed distant like a stranger's shadow. She expected to enter each room and everything come to her naturally like a book falling open on a well-read page but the click did not come. Her reflection was also achingly unfamiliar. Smudged grey and broken seams of mist swept her reflection into something like the sketches she drew so often. Most of the time it made her look fragile but at the same time exactly like herself. Everything, to Elena, seemed wrong like it wasn't supposed to be there.

Somehow to Elena her reflection was slowly changing but she carefully kept that thought out of her mind.

The stillness broke. A fragile presence circled her room. Usually Elena would be relieved but now all that would cross her mind was Fake-Elena and it's cracked face. She had just come back from a hazed day of mindlessly serving coffee and wearing a painfully fake smile. Shivering, Elena's thoughts traveled back to the thick, lacy cobwebs which had clasped to her eyes. She shuddered.

The all too familiar ache crawled against her skull leaving her eyebrows furrowed. The ache wasn't a normal, feverish ache but something which seemed to gnaw at her sanity leaving gaping holes. It refused to leave making Elena feel like a cracked shell of a human. It was wrong- the odd, worrying type of wrong.

If I start to worry people and tell my family it will only get worse and be more real. They'll worry and I'll be ill- the wrong kind of ill. If I tell no one and no one finds out it will just stop. I...I...don't  want to be the wrong kind of ill where they lock me up and do experiments on me...

Looming over the medicine cabinet, Elena crinkled her face in hesitation. She was doubtful that anything in there would stop her seeing things or fade the odd ache or spidery chills. With drunk hands Elena slide it open. Her body became heavy and her breathing faded into something shallow.

"No! It's not fair! That sort of stuff just doesn't happen. No...it can't be real," Elena trailed of in despair, her words leaving a shaky silence.

Swallowing hard, she blinked several times as if to make sure it was really there. To her despair it remained the same, lurking in between her darkest fears.

Instead of several half empty bottles and a tight sour smell, Elena was greeted with clusters of crackling leaves and broken twigs. Elena's heart lurched. Someone's here, she thought limply, this sort of stuff doesn't just happen. I thought it had stopped. It's supposed to have stopped.