As I looked in the mirror, I saw me, but it wasn't me. I mean, it looked like me, but it just wasn't me. I stood there, motionless, with me hands clutching to the sink. My eyes were wide, staring into the eyes of my reflection. Unlike my eyes, however, its eyes were dark, almost black. No matter how motionless I became, my reflection was not. Its head moved slightly and tilted to its side. Was I moving? It began to smile disturbingly with its eyes wide. Feeling the hairs raise on my body, I felt uncomfortable and ended up loosing my concentration, then blinking. I looked at my reflection again. It was me. Normal me.
Heading towards the door, I felt a light chill passing threw me. It must be my mind playing tricks on me. After all, this was the first night in the new house. Every little unrecognized noise or feeling is going to startle me till I become used to the place. Shaking my head, I ran out the door.
A month ago, I was living with my aunt in Smalltown, Tennessee. Every building there was old and falling apart. That was mainly why I chose this little one room house. It reminded me of my real home. The reason I moved was because I needed a new life. One away from my scarlet letter. Back in Smalltown, I was accused of something I didn't do, but no one would believe me, so I ran away. It was going to be hard making a new life in the big city, compared to the little farm town I was used to. I would make it work, though. No matter how crazy this will make me.
“Hi, I am Tara. I'm here to speak with Mr. Thompson. I am the web designer he hired.” I could hear my voice echo threw the halls of the building. It was large and fancy, with few people walking about. The vibe I got from this place was dreary. Little to no excitement at all. I rang the bell at the front desk again. This time an older woman came out and motioned me to fallow her. With a crackly and flat voice, she said “Mr. Thompson is in the back. I will give you a list of all the topics and ideas you must put into our website. As for anything else, he will tell you. You must, I repeat, you must add what ever he says, no matter how odd it may seem.”
When we got to his office, she opened the door for me, then walked away. His office was white and classy. I had already thought of a few ideas of how to design the website. “Mrs. Tara, sit. My website is very important for the future of my business. If you screw it up, I promise that every dime I have given you for this, plus every other dime you have, I will take from you.” His voice was low, and almost terrifying. He ran threw the topics for the website, then showed me out of the office. When I got back to the front desk, the lady gave me a small, thick stack of papers. “Make sure you include every topic.” She said with a sarcastic smile.
Back at my new home, I curled up next to my computer. No distractions and no exact deadlines to worry about when you have a home job. I quickly began to sketch up a background and a theme for Mr. Thompson's website. It took about three hours to draw the detailed background by hand, upload it, then edit it more professionally. As soon as I got done, I decided I needed a nice long break. I got a glass of tea and headed into my living room to read a nice little book.
Laying on the couch reading, I failed to notice how late it was getting. I didn't mind, though, because I had nothing to do the next day, so I continued to read and snack on random foods. A rattling in the kitchen shook me from my intense reading. I placed the book down and stepped into the kitchen. Boxes were still scattered everywhere. Some pots were sitting in the middle of the floor. “That is weird. I swore I put those up earlier.” I whispered aloud to myself. “Didn't I?”
Putting the pots up, I decided to just finish packing up all together. It didn't take long, since I only had four or five boxed to unpack. Feeling happy about finishing, I made another glass of tea, and walked back into the living room to finish reading. When I got to the couch, though, my book was gone. In its place, I found a green thumb tack. Confused but not really caring, I threw the thumb tack away and went to bed.
Sadly, I couldn't sleep. I could hear rats running around threw the walls. The scratching was so irritating that I punched the wall at the head of the bed. For a moment, it stopped. The quiet made me quickly fall asleep, but it was short lived, because an eery whisper woke me. “Open your eyes lady. You cant lie to yourself.” My eyes sprang open. The hairs on neck rose. My heart began to pound heavily.
Thump, thump, thump. My heart was the only thing I could hear in the darkness. I got up and walked down to the kitchen to get some ice water. All the boxes were stacked by the door, just as they were earlier. “What in the blue blazes? I know I put these up earlier.” On each box was a green thumb tack.
I walked fast to my computer. Nothing was done. The sketch was gone and the edited copy was deleted off my computer. In its place was a green thumb tack. All at once, my computer glitched. It began to write on its own, “You cant lie to yourself.” over and over again.
“You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself.You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself.You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself.You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself.You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself.You cant lie to yourself. You cant lie to yourself. . . .”
Who was targeting me? Who was messing with my house and computer? What do they want? Do they think this is funny or something? Messing with a girls private and work life like this is so rude. In the midst of the boiling anger inside of me, I screamed. “Who are you!?” All was silent. I ran to my room. There was a stack of pictures on my bed with another green thumb tack. I picked up the stack. Every single photo was one of a dead body. Each more revolting than the last. In horror I began to tear up. “What do you want with me?” I whispered in a weak voice. I could feel the hot tears start to trail down my face.“Are you going to do to me what you did to these girls?” I ran into the bathroom and locked myself in. “Why do I feel like I know the girls in those pictures?” By this time, I was bawling my eyes out.
I sat on the side of my tub and tried to breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a light trail of blood coming from the attic. The only thing I knew to be up their were the rats. When I reached the string to pull down the attic stair, the scratching began again. This time, it was louder and more violent. The louder the scratching became, the more the stream of blood began to flow. Pulling down the hatch, a body dropped from the attic. I streaked loudly and ran back into the bathroom. My tears were still poring. The terror I was feeling mas making me crazy. “What is happening to me?” I cried out. I moved closed to the bloody body. I could recognize who it was. “Mr. Thompson?” I streaked again. With that, he moved! Out of impulse, I kicked his head, and it detached from his body. He was completely motionless. I moved closer to see if he had a clue on him or something that would be pointed toward me. On his chest was a green thumb tack.
“Who is doing this to me?” I muttered in a snotty and sobbing manner. Then, with a faint and cheerful voice, someone answered. “Your crazy, lady. How can you not notice yet? You know that everything you have done today had been undone, right? You recognize each person in those photo's. Why?”
I turned slowly around. No one was there. “Who is talking?” The voice came again.
“I did. Or in a way, you did.”
“I am talking to myself?”
“Look in the mirror, sweets.”
“How am I talking to myself when my mouth isn't moving when you speak?”
“You wanted to know who did all of this, right?”
“Yes.”
“You did. Then you made up an alibi for yourself to believe when you regained consciousness.”
I turned to the mirror. Put my hands on the sink then clutched it. I was motionless. I saw me, but it wasn't me. It, or the reflection of me was smiling. “Remember yet?” This time, I felt those words come out of my mouth. I saw myself with dark, almost black eyes. I reached down into my pocket, and felt it full of little green thumb tacks. “I killed all of those people in the photo's. That why I moved. So I could forget. People noticed how creepy I was in Smalltown. Even though there was no proof against me, they all knew I was a murderer. I ran away, then did it again. I can't lie to myself.” I looked into the mirror. This time I saw me. The real me. With my dark murderous eyes and a large smile.
