Febuary 2nd, 2014
I met him again today, in the school bathrooms. Ever since that day in the Winter of last, he has not left me alone. I see him every day now. Watching me. Judging me. Hoping that his silent prescence will break me. He underestimates my stamina.
Walking into the tile-laced room, I saw him, waiting for me. His face was pale and sickly, his eyes weighed down by bags saturated with insomniatic sand. He looked at me with a gaze of both expectance and pity.
"You need to leave me alone", I said, trying to inject my words with confidence, and failing to do so.
He did not reply. His eyesbrows raised, so slightly that it seemed almost too minute an action to acknowledge. Did he mean to mock me? Of course he did. He wanted to mock and undermine me. Make me feel small, unimportant.
I jabed an accusing finger in his direction.
"Stay the hell away from me", I spat at him. I turned and stormed out of the bathroom door.
He did not reply.
March 17th, 2014
I'm seeing him more frequently lately. Not doing anything. Not saying anything. Just standing. Watching. His eyes never break contact with my own.
If he's trying to intimidate me, it's definitely not working. He thinks he has me figured out, but knows nothing about me. He has no power over me.
March 21st, 2014
He used to be so different. Back before. Back when I knew him for who he was, not who he is now, whoever that may be. I feel like it's something I did.
I went down to the lake today. The spring weather means I only need four layers of clothing to keep me from freezing. Throwing stones, I remembered how easy it is for them to sink to the bottom. That is, of course, once you break through the ice. They say it takes roughly ten minutes in this kinda water to make your muscles become weak. Then, you become as good as paralysed before drowning due to your inability to swim to shore. Makes it even worse for people who don't want to swim to shore.
I can hold my breath for three minutes.
April 2nd, 2014
I'm starting to become paranoid. I can't take his stares anymore. His dead eyes, his lost, apathetic face. If he wanted to prove that he can scare me, then he's doing a pretty good job.
Wherever I go, I never look up. I pull up my hood, make a tunnel vision and remind myself just to keep looking at the ground. Focus on my feet. Dont look up.
Even though I can't see him, I still feel his presence. The weight of his eyes and judgment is still baring down on my spine. I don't know if I can cope much longer like this.
I've had my first nose bleed in seven months.
April 21st, 2014
He was in my room today. But this time, he looked... broken. His eyes, with the same heavy bags, were now red and sore. His usual blank, melencholy expression was twisted into an ugly, tortured guise, occasionally coughing out angry tearless sighs. I realised that he was a collapsed bridge, a see saw snapped at both ends. But in that moment, I was too furious, too scared and sick of the last four hellish months to care.
I raised my head and looked him square in the eyes. I screamed. I bellowed and shrieked at him until my throat ran dry and my voice became a harsh croak. I cursed him, insulted him, blamed him for everything. It wasn't me who made those desicions. It wasn't me who forced him into what he did. He did that himself. He decided that that bed of water would be an ideal resting place of slumber for an endless sleep. He made up his mind. Not me. No, but I was the one who pulled him out of that liquid abyss. I'm the one that saved him. I was not going to let him bring me down with him.
I won't let him.
I can't.
After my outburst, he simply looked at me, as always, and stood in silence.
He did not reply.
But of course, I did not expect a reply. I never do, and I never have.
For everybody knows that a reflection doesn't talk back.
