Madness

chapter 14- secrets and lies

Something was scratching against her skull. She could feel it. A scuffle of words crept through her skull, residing between what could and couldn't be seen, you're a monster. You kill. You cheat. You lie. You kill. You cheat. You lie. You don't belong in real life, just nightmares. You kill...

The hum of the words faded, lost within her mind like stars in a sullen cloud. Elena blinked, slowly. The room around her was a disfigured blur, achingly unfamiliar. It took her a while to grasp onto her surroundings. She lay on the floor in a muddled heap whilst her surroundings slowly came into view.

Something pressed against her. Something shadowy yet solidified. Something was there.

Hastily pushing herself of from the floor, Elena stumbled backwards against the wall. A scratching sound carved into the room, gradually intensifying. Scanning the shadowy room, Elena felt something prickle down her neck. Besides the mirror, the floor was littered with leaves. The drab, features, colours and the way they curled, writhing, reminded her of the leaves that her hair turned into.

A moment of panic shifted over her. Rubbing her flakey hands against her hair, Elena sighed in relief as they remained as what they were, hair.

It took her a second to realise she was in her bedroom, not No Name Lane. Strangled with frustration, she let out prolonged ragged lurched. I only have one more visit! One more chance!

"You kill. You cheat. You lie. You don't belong in real life, just nightmares. You're a monster!Hissed who Elena immediately assumed to be Fake-Elena.

However, this time her voice wasn't crackly or consumed with shadowy echoes. It was much stronger and defiant.

"You kill. You cheat. You lie. You're a monster." There was a malice in its voice which left Elena in shudders.

Something passed over her mind, disappearing before she could really think about it.

This time the voices weren't coming from her head.

"No!" She wailed, straining her voice. "No! This isn't supposed to happen!"

She'd gotten so used to the words they had become as natural as breathing.

The room became even darker and darker, like the shadow of advancing death. Something told her not to turn on the light, not to face the possible nightmares which hid behind the darkness. A shadowy figure shifted in the dark.

"Go away!" Elena shrieked in between fearful, childish sobs.  "Go away! Help me, Frank! Please." She felt her knees weaken and her head spin.

The mirror loomed beneath the inky shadows. Elena paused. She screamed. Fake-Elena was protruding from the glass. Its movements could be called angelic if it wasn't for the situation. It took no proper form but shifted in between the shadows, becoming a part of it.

At first it had been no more than a chill in the room, a shimmer of mist, random scuffles. Its face was smudged like a poorly taken photograph but its eyes remained as they had always been. His eyes matched the way it saw the world, cold and cruel. An air of eeriness emanated from its gaze, a wild stretch of endless grief.

A single thought screamed within her mind, it's not a reflection anymore. It has a state. It's physical! No. No! NO!

With the little strength the fear had left, she bolted out the room and tumbled down the staircase, tangled with a mixture of horror and distress. The air was cold and brittle, merging with the shivers that crawled down her back.

There was something disturbing about seeing a dead version of herself. It left her stomach in knots. One day she'd look like that, lifeless and monstrous. Death was ugly and for the first time she really saw that. Death was always beautiful in stories and that was a splintered, worn out lie people used to make the dead seem less dead. Perhaps people didn't want to believe that. How could they imagine their loved one's in such an ugly, horrifying state?