In the Mirror: A Confessions Story

Before the Fire

Three days. Aunt Steph said that she would only be gone for three days. She doesn't understand that each hour of those three days I have to survive Landon. Her surgery is one day away and trying to figure out ways to be away from the house during that time is crucial. I love Landon, but I'm not sure that the feeling is mutual. He is so creepy.

"Aunt Steph, can I please stay at the hospital with you?" I whine.

"No, I need you to be here to tend to the house." Aunt Steph says and starts putting her shirts in a suitcase.

"Nothing in the house has to be tended for three days."

"That's what I am saying to you." She points at me. "You. Please I need some time to myself. Before the surgery, I can't have any stress. It is the only way they can safely put the tube in my heart; if I am completely stress-free. You want me to live right?"

"But Landon."

"What about him?" She holds my eye contact and shifts on one hip.

"He is so scary." I cry while grasping her arm. "Remember what he did to the bird?"

"What bird?" Aunt Steph wriggles out of my grasp in order to finish packing.

"The bird he decapitated," I deadpan and she stops dead in her tracks. "He decapitated a bird."

"You will be fine." She fake smiles and zips up the suitcase. "Keep the doors locked and my number is in your phone and on the fridge. I left two hundred dollars in case of an emergency."

"I can't use the money if I am dead," I mumble to myself.

"Dylan." Aunt Steph grabs both of my arms and looks me in the eye. "Please stop with the whole Landon thing."

"He wants to kill me!"

"Mhm yeah okay," she paces around the room grabbing stuff off of the floor. "I'm leaving in two hours and there isn't enough time to buy you a train ticket."

"Whatever!" I yell and stomp out of the room.

As soon as I close her bedroom door, I see Landon standing on the other side of the hallway staring at the wall. Smiling, he turns and faces me. I tear up, dreading this weekend, and run downstairs.

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Two hours later, Aunt Stephanie loads up her car and drives off, leaving Landon and I alone. Scared, I go into my room and lock the door.  After an hour, the house feels eerily quiet. I step out of my room and look down the hallway. It is eight in the evening and the sun has set about thirty minutes ago. Shadows from the trees dance and stretch. I turn on the lights and walk towards the steps. Without looking I walk down the steps and slip on a rubber ball. I grab hold of the railing and accidentally hit my head on the step.

  WHY DOES HE HATE ME?? 

"LANDON!" I yell and he shows up at the bottom of the steps.

"Yes, Dyl?" He replies and walks toward me.

I try to scoot up the steps to get away from him. He catches up with me though and grabs ahold of my hand.

"Stay away from me," I say barely above a whisper.

Instead of attacking, he helps me up and gets some ice.

"Who put that ball there?"

"You did." With that, he walks down the steps, sits on the couch, and turns on the tv.

Creep.

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At around twelve in the morning, I hear a loud screeching noise outside of my door. I bury myself beneath my covers and turn on the flashlight on my phone.

"Dylan," Landon calls. "What is that noise?"

I don't answer him and he keeps on calling me. That with the noise is driving me crazy and I start sobbing. Why is everything so creepy? Why can't I have gone with Aunt Steph?

"Sissy. Why so emotional?" Landon shows up inside of my room.

How did he get inside?

"How did you get in here?" I ask carefully and lift my head from the blanket. "The door was locked."

"No it wasn't." He motions towards the door and it really was unlocked. "I brought you something."

"No thank you, Landon." My mouth goes dry as he pulls a bag from behind his back.

"Imma leave it here then." He puts the bag on the floor and walks out, locking the door behind him.

I try to go back to sleep but the bag haunts me. I hide underneath my blanket, but it's presence is like a spirit's, unseen, yet there. I stare out of the window and a memory comes rushing back. Headlights from cars driving by remind me of the night that everything changed.

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Dad runs into the room and grabs me by the wrist. His eyes are bloodshot and I can tell that he has been drinking again. I thought that if I got an A this semester then he would change. His pungent breath snaps me back to reality. My free hand swipes my cheeks that seem to be wet with tears. A second later I am thrown against the wall and a searing pain shoots up my arm. Broken or dislocated?

 Ever since mom died dad has been like this. On a good day I get screamed at, on a bad day I get this. I can't take it anymore. I scoot myself over to my drawer and open it, revealing the gun that I have hidden. My dad is down the hallway and I crawl to the doorway and see how far he has made it. I hate him. I hate him and I want him dead. I grab the gun and sit in the doorway, waiting for him to turn around. Three shots ring out, each one hitting his body. Landon comes out of his room screaming at me. Father's fault. 

Dad is on the floor with a red puddle collecting, then being absorbed by his clothes. Like waves rolling. Ten minutes later the police were there. I closed my door and locked it, but they found me with the gun in my hands. Landon didn't defend me. He didn't say more than a word. He hasn't spoke much since; again, father's fault.