Breaking The Mirror [Edited And Complete]

Past Reality

A day passes and things aren't normal. It's more like a mockery of our previously 'normal' life together, the usually comfortable silences have turned awkward. The words that are exchanged between us are merely meant to cover up the silence, and that's so obvious.

And it's all my fault.

All. My. Own. Fucking. Fault.

I'm staring in the mirror in the bathroom right now.

I look into those eyes. Those fucking green eyes that aren't mine. They aren't mine and they never were, not since I was born, not since the day I killed her and God, I hate my eyes. No –not mine, how can I forget? They're his.

Just like my hair and nose and the curve of my jaw –it's all his, none of it belongs to me. It's all so fucking hideous. It's like... our life now. My face is an awkward, ugly imitation of his.

And I hate it. All of it.

Except for Seaton. I...He...

Well. I just don't hate him, okay?

-

"Jayden!" Linda calls as she practically tackles me during my job. It's always a surprise when they come to visit me. It shouldn't be by now, I guess.

"Uh...hi, Linda...."

"Look at you in your uniform, looking all edible!" She says that every time. "I could just eat you, you know, if I weren't a big fat lesbo."

I blink at her as she pries herself from my body, "Linda... you know you're not fat, right?"

Because I do not think I can handle anorexia in my life right now. No fucking way.

"Yes, sweetie, it was a figure of speech." She kisses my cheek and grabs a menu of her own, taking my arm in hers, "So, where am I sitting today, Jay? Or are you making me stand?"

"Er –no...sorry. This way."

I guess work wasn't so bad today. Mark's a sweet guy, I guess. He's a good... person. Another friend? I'm not sure my conscience could handle it. It's too... I don't know, it's like most of the other 'friends' I've made, I guess. Are they fake too? Will they pass?

I don't like to think about it.

The hallway is dark when I get home. The light in the kitchen is on, but Seaton is nowhere to be seen. My heart beats a little faster at that and my mind sifts through all the possibilities. I step into the living room with caution, as though the floor will fall out beneath me, and I drop my bag on the couch wearily, looking around for some sign of life.

That's it.

I've finally done it.

I've finally driven Seaton away. No more Chinese food, no more paintings, no more maybe-kisses, no more Master Hypnotist or stupid, smoldering black eyes or warm hands or –nothing. It's all gone, I've freaked him out, it's all my fault, I'm such a fucking loser --

"Brat."

And it's his voice. My body tenses slightly, and I look around, hoping it's not a vision of my wishful thinking, and he's there. Standing there in all of his Seaton-ic glory and damn it, I hate myself sometimes when I look at him like this. I'm so damn selfish because I almost expect him to want me, I don't know why, but I want it so much that it feels like he should want it too.

Does that make sense?

Nothing does anymore. Not the way he looks at me with those dark eyes of his, the way his pale skin glows from the dull light of his room that I've still never been in. And I want to—No, that's not fair either. Why do I expect him to want me? I'm nothing special. He should be with someone like... like Corin, someone smart, handsome, perfect, with shiny white teeth and good taste in clothes and a confident personality... someone perfect, someone...