Short Stories

[Twelve]

I couldn't tell what was real and what was fake. 

My sight was changing with every other blink. 

One moment was light. 

Golden sunlight streaming through the intricately designed glasswork around the room. 

One moment was dark. 

Dark emptiness filled the void where the glass was broken and missing. 

One moment was a young woman in the middle of the room. Her back was facing me.

Her dark hair was thick and fell in a smooth sheet down to a brilliant gold dress detailed with white and silver. 

One moment was a young woman in the middle of the room. Her back was facing me.

Her dark hair tangled in a dripping wet mess down to a ripped obsidian dress that sagged with water.

In a flash, she had a crown.

A crown of gold. 

In a flash, she had a crown. 

A crown of thorns.

She turned to me. 

Her face was grinning and pristine. 

She turned to me. 

Her face was glaring and broken.

Her crown entranced me. 

It gleamed a golden halo onto her face in an angelic manner.

Her crown entranced me. 

It scraped red dew drops onto her face in an ominous manner.

Those eyes were so familiar. 

Glowing a happy blue laced with misty grey. 

Those eyes were so familiar. 

Shadowing a stormy grey laced with sorrowful blue. 

My heartbeat was pounding. 

Her face was mine. 

My heartbeat was racing. 

She was me. 

I gasped for breath as I shot up in my bed. My heart raced in my chest and my lungs struggled to inhale and exhale properly. The dream had been so real... so so real. My forehead dripped with sweat and the sheets of my bed were tangled around my legs as if I had been thrashing around. My room lit up with lightning for a split second and I caught my image in the mirror across the room from me.  

My mirror was cracked right down the middle. 

One side showed me wearing a golden crown on my head, a sad frown gracing my lips. The mirror gleamed a sunny halo around my image. I looked regal. I looked like an actual queen. But my eyes didn't match the shining picture. They were dark and longing. 

The other side showed me with the crown of thorns and blood dripping in scarlet drops down my forehead to a large grin on my lips. The mirror was shadowed around my image. I looked scary. I looked like an actual villain. But my eyes didn't match the dark picture. They were bright and powerful. 

My scream almost drowned out the clap of thunder that accompanied the next bolt of lightning. When the mirror was lit back up, it was normal once more. No longer cracked and showing a split image of me. Now it only flashed a picture of my sobbing, terror-stricken face.