Today on Drabble Wednesday, we look into the abyss, and see what is reflected back…
They locked me in a room.
A sad room.
I’m mad you know. Mad. Mad. Mad.
That’s what they say.
They put me in a solitary place. Threw away the key.
They’ll make me better here.
I hurt people.
Can’t have that.
So they brought me here, to the hospital. Isolated.
All alone. All alone.
At least that’s what they thought.
But I have friends.
My lovely, lovely friends.
They look after me. They whisper their thoughts in my ear. They’ve offered to help me.
They’ve offered me asylum.
Or did they offer me the asylum.
The jagged crack sliced across the mirror. A streak of red dripped down the reflective surface. Blood. She reached out a finger to smear the fluid away, but she couldn’t make herself touch it. She heard her husband screaming in the background.
“Why did you make me do it? You always make me do these things!”
“I didn’t make you do anything! You’re the one who can’t control themselves!”
She screamed at full volume, but he seemed not to hear her.
Maybe she was dead.
After all, she stared at her motionless body sprawled on the floor under the mirror.
I hear her call my name, when the moon shines through the black sky and the wind howls against the window pane. The reflection of her face settles in the glass, her dark eyes gleaming hatred in crimson.
She haunts me.
Her whispers, her accusing looks in my dreams, and on nights like these. I wronged her, and she shifts through reality to abuse me with my misdeed. And I deserve her punishment.
She trusted me.
I thought I could change. That her darkness would soothe my own. Alas, it was not to be.
And betrayal lingers far after death.
© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved