Shatter By Micheal Jameson

Chapter Seven - Mirror

 I glanced into my bathroom mirror, disgusted with the reflection I saw there, my eyes were swollen from crying myself to sleep, my lips bruised from stifling my screams. I looked gaunt, pale and sickly. I could hear the bogeyman voice taunting me, see him in the mirror laughing at me.

 "Look at yourself, Grace, crying like a little girl over split milk. Pathetic, didn't I teach you to be stronger than this?" I heard him sneer in my ear.

 "You're not playing the game." I flinched feeling him slam his hand against the mirror.

 "Do you want me to punish you," I felt his phantom breath on my ear.

 "It's been a long time since I felt you're skin beneath the lash of my belt" I shuddered feeling his phantom hand brush my back.

 "Your right" I answered the reflection.

 I opened my make up bag, and began mechanically applying the products. Ridding my reflection of the lost scared girl. Damn her and her wretched heart.

 "Good girl, that's better, now play the game."

 I looked in mirror and smiled, the sad, lost girl was gone locked behind my eyes of steel.

 I felt lighter with each step I took, by the time I reached shop floor, I felt more like myself in control. Sun shone through the grated shutters, protecting my shop windows from vandals.

 I loved my shop, I'd built it with my blood, sweat and tears. My mother had offered to fund my adventure into the world of self employment. But I refused to take any of her money, I liked knowing everything I achieved, I had achieved on my merit. Not with the help of mother dearest.

 The shutters groaned in distress as I cranked them up, natural light filled the shop floor, small dust specks danced in the rays. I moved to the front door, a figure blocked the grated shutter. Not even nine o'clock and I had a customer, my heart leapt I loved to guess my customer's choice of reading material, and I loved to introduce them to new exciting adventures lining my many shelves.

 I flipped my sign over, and fixed the Yale lock in place. Eager to meet my first customer of day I swung my door open with a beaming smile.

 "Erin."

 My smile faded returning to a grim line. I could feel my eyes narrow as I looked over Alexander Black, his shirt looked crumpled beneath his leather jacket, he looked to have run his fingers through his hair too many times and he was now sporting a nine o'clock shadow along his firm jaw.

 "What are you doing here?" I asked blandly, guarding myself against his probing eyes.

 "I want to talk to you." He stroked his fingers through his hair.

 I walked away from him, stopping behind my counter and began setting up my till for the day's sales.

 "You don't need to explain yourself, Mr Black, I understand, I do." I smiled, I felt the phantom fingers of my bogeyman stroke my neck in encouragement.

 He loved his part of the his game, he'd send me out to meet guys he'd chosen to play with, tell me what to say, what to do, how to act and once I had them eating out of the palm of my hand. He'd have me crush them.

 "We both got what we wanted, you got to met Grace, a chance to abate your curiosity and I got a night with Alexander Black, admittedly I had to play a role to get it." I said nonchalantly

 "An academy award performance, wouldn't you say?" I said wiping fake tears from my face.

 He slammed his hands down on the counter in frustration. I flinched, I clung to my till strengthening my resolves. He didn't scare me, I've seen worst tempers than his.