If the Sun Has Faded Away (UNDER REWRITING)

Chapter 30: Through The Looking Glass

I was facing the reflection of a stranger.

She stared at me, her wide eyes brimming with tears.

Mud darkened her face, and my gaze traveled over every inch of her naked body. Red blotches marred her black skin, glaringly visible. She attempted a smile—forced, weak—but her face twisted into a grotesque grimace.

A scream formed in my throat and escaped my lips before I could swallow it. I couldn't believe that this repulsive figure was no stranger.

She was me. I had turned into her. We were one.

The crippled body you see in the mirror is only the product of your imagination, Divya... You're fine.

That soothing voice echoed in my head, desperately trying to wipe my fears away, but I found it hard to believe.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a few seconds, then opened them quickly.

Crippled Divya was still there, staring at me from the other side of the mirror.

"Go away!" I screamed, tears welling up in my eyes.

But she remained, as if to mock me.

I hastily wrapped a towel around myself. Relief washed over me, knowing the damage I had seen was hidden beneath the fabric. But I still felt dirty.

I had just taken a twenty-minute shower, scrubbing myself with so much force that bruises had begun to form. But the dirt remained. No matter how many showers I took, it would never leave me.

I would live with it forever.

A rapid knock on the bathroom door shook me from my thoughts.

"Lucy?" John's voice came from the other side. "Are you all right in there?"

His tone was heavy with concern.

"Do you need anything?" he asked again.

"N-No, thanks... I'm coming, John," I stuttered, glancing at the door. "Sorry for taking so long."

I couldn't stop my voice from trembling.

"It's all right. Take your time. I'll find something decent for you to wear and fix you a cuppa."

A smile flickered on my lips. Making tea wasn't John's strong suit. He wasn't exactly gifted with his hands—remember the disaster with Ringo's birthday cake candle?

"Wait, Johnny Boy, I'll help you with that," I called loud enough for him to hear. A giggle slipped out despite everything.

"Finding it funny, are we? Well, Miss Thomas, I'm a gifted tea maker."

"Is that so? I wouldn't bet on that."

I slipped into John's sky-blue shirt, the only clothing I had. It felt strange—too large, reaching just below my knees—but I was thankful for it, for anything to cover me.

I pulled my hair into a ponytail and prepared to leave the bathroom.

One last glance at the mirror.

Crippled Divya was still there, smiling. My heart almost stopped—her smile was twisted with malice.

Fear gripped me, freezing me in place.

"Tea is ready, Lucy!" John's voice called from outside.

"I'm... I'm coming!" I shouted back, though my lungs felt starved of air.

My mind screamed to look away, but my eyes were locked on her reflection.

_Come to me, Divya..._ she whispered.

A chill washed over me. I couldn't move.

_Come to me, Divya..._

Her voice drew me closer, an invisible force pulling me toward her. My feet, as if under their own will, took me to the mirror.

I stood there, my hand reaching out. I was paralyzed with fear, yet I touched her reflection. She was real.

_Come closer..._

"I... I can't," I whispered.

Her smile widened.

_Right... Look down... Look at the sink._

I frowned, confused. Why did she want me to look at the sink?

_Quick!_ she snapped, her voice sharp.

I did as she commanded. A shaving razor lay on the edge of the sink.

_See? It's John's razor._

I nodded, my heart skipping. John's name filled me with warmth, if only for a moment. He was waiting for me, just outside.

I wanted to go to him, but my feet wouldn't move.

_Take it... Take the razor._

"Why?" I asked, disbelief filling me.

_Trust me... It's for your best._

"Why would I trust you?"

_I'm your well-wisher, Divya. Trust me..._

I stared at her, torn between fear and desperation. Could I trust her?

_You want the pain to stop, don't you? I know you do._

"Yes... Yes, I don't want to carry this pain anymore."

_Then all you need to do is... Use the razor._

My hands reached for the razor. I turned it over in my fingers, examining it. The blade's edge caught the light, and as I ran my finger over it, a thin trickle of blood appeared. The pain was a dull prick. Nothing serious.

_Hurry, love. Don't waste time._

"But I'm scared," I whispered. "What if I fail?"

_You won't. I'm here with you. It'll be quick, I promise._

I nodded slowly. She was right—this was the only way to end my suffering.

_I'm not a Firefly, Paul... Darkness is calling me._

_I'm sorry, Johnny Boy. I'm not as strong as you think._

With trembling hands, I raised my shirt sleeve and placed the razor against my wrist. I blocked out every thought, every voice.

The first cut sent a jolt of pain through my body. I screamed but bit my lip, stifling the sound. I didn't want John to hear me. I didn't want him to save me.

"Lucy? What's happening in there?" John's voice came closer, filled with panic.

"Nothing, John," I whispered, breathless. "I'm fine."

I made the second cut. More pain. But this time, I welcomed it. Blood splattered on my skin, the shirt, the floor. Dizzy, I grabbed the sink to steady myself.

"Open the door, Lucy! What are you doing?"

"Give me... A minute," I stuttered, trying to stay upright.

_Just one more cut..._

The third cut would be the last. Darkness crept in as the room spun.

The door crashed open, and the last thing I saw before everything went black was John's horrified face. He was screaming my name.

His agony broke my heart.

I tried to smile.

And then... darkness embraced me.