The bathroom mirror

    Time seems to stop as I watch the water drip over the counter, hitting the floor in small droplets. The broken shards of glass lay beside the translucent puddle, rocking back and forth slightly. Almost like they’re dancing for me, letting me know I’ll be punished for causing them to be that way. I can feel their mocking ring in my ears, and tears start welling up in my eyes.

    The sound of heavy boots hitting the hardwood behind me fills my mind. But I can’t turn around to look. I don’t want to see him coming in, the look he’ll have on his face. The only thing I can do is stare at the mess of water and glass.
   
    “What the hell is goin’ on here?” His deep gravely voice booms from behind me. I can smell the odour of his breath, fresh vodka mixed with a twinge of tobacco. I can tell he’s disappointed in me, and angry. I can hear it in his voice. I know he wants an answer, but I can’t turn around. I can’t face him. I can’t admit it was my fault and that I deserve any punishment he decides to give me. I just can’t bring my self to do it.

    “Hey! Did you break another glass? What’s wrong with you?! Such a stupid kid!” He grumbles, pushing past me. He glares down at the puddle, his brow deep in anger.

    “Why didn’t you just clean it up, eh little brat? When you break something, you clean it up! Do you really think I want to clean up your messes? If I did that, I would have no time for anything. What’s going on in that stupid head of yours?” He shouts as he grabs onto the collar of my shirt. I cry out. It's shrill and weak, just like me. He shakes me, yelling about responsibility and the need not to be a moron. I want to tell him to stop, to yell for help, but I cant. I’m to scared, to weak.

    “Now. Clean, it, up.” He demands, throwing me to the ground. I land with a thud and a grunt, my hand only centimetres away from a pointy shard of glass. He exits the room, grumbling about how he would be better off without me around. I know he’s right.

    Tears come to my eyes, spilling over without a sound. I’m useless as a son, useless as a human being. I make more problems than I solve and I know Daddy hates me for it. He never hurts Annabelle, he sias it's cause she's an angle. I’m just his screw-up of a child. A mistake never meant to happen. I silently sob some more, the spilled water soaking into the sleeve of my thin brown shirt.
   
    I sit up, whipping the tears away with a quick sweep from my still dry arm. I pick up the shards, and dispose of them. I pretend like I wasn’t crying, like I’m just fine, as I run a dry cloth over the puddle of water on the counter. My heart is throbbing and my head aches. At the moment, I want to run away and find a damp, cold hole, and make myself a residence and slowly decay away there where I can be alone and no one can hurt me.

    But I can’t. I have to stay and take care of Daddy. I need to clean up or he’ll be mad with me and hate me forever.

    I make my way to the bathroom to dispose of the wet cloth. Guilt coats my mind, like a thick hot tar soaking into me completely.  I know I’ve done a bad thing. I know I can’t do anything to change that. I want to cry again but I know there wouldn’t be a point.

    Slowly I place the wet cloth onto the towel rack to dry. I turn my head to look around the small bathroom. It’s not much to see. Just plane white tiled floors and unwashed walls. I follow my eyes across the patternd wallpaper till I see myself stareing back from the mirror. It’s not a large mirror, so I can only see from my shoulders to my head. I look scruffy, like a puppy on the street. Large round eyes, and ratty blonde hair.  Daddy always tells me how ugly I look. Looking in the mirror now, I see he’s right. I cant see any of daddy or Annabelle in myself. They’re both so beautiful. And me; I’m just an ugly child.

    I can feel tears welling up again, caused by my own self-pity. What kind of man am I? I cry so much, so often. What kind of man cries like this? That’s why daddy says I’m not a worthy son, that’s probably why gets so mad at me. Because I’m so frail, and cowardess. Maybe it’s cause I’m such a failure as well. Because I break things, and say stupid things. At that moment tears already started rolling down my face.

    I watch as the miserable looking boy stares back at me. His face is pale and run with tears. His eyes are red and puffed and cloths shabby and worn down. When my shoulders shake, his do too.

    “Can’t I get away? Can’t I be better?”  My voice is squeaky and horse. I sob into the mirror, looking at the other me through squinted eyes. It takes me a moment before I realize, but the boy on the other side...   

    He’s smiling.

    I try to catch my breath, to rub the illusion away from my eyes. But the more I look at the mirror, the more I see my own face smiling. It’s a crude awful smile. I know that’s not what I’m doing. I’m not smiling like that. And then he starts to giggle, my giggle. But it’s not coming from me, it’s coming from the mirror.
   
    He opens his mouth as if to speak. But when he doses no sounds comes out. He doesn’t look frustrated. Instead he snickers, his shoulders shaking as he dose. I feel terror bounce through me, I know daddy will be really mad at me when I tell him I’ve gone crazy. The other me leans forward, breathing hard onto the mirror. It causes a soft mist to form, but it’s on his side. I feel like I want to be sick, I just can’t understand what’s going on. He reaches his hand forward; it has the same bruise on it that mine dose. He extends his finger, and begins to write.

                                      .pleh ym tnaw yllear uoy oD

    It’s my handwriting, but I just can’t tell what it says. My head is spinning as I try to understand it. All the letters are backwards, and the words. But I can’t concentrate on it. I can only look at him, at how bizarre he is. Because it’s me, but it’s not me. He reaches forward again, swiping away the words. His smile is wide and sinister.

    “Dnah ym ekat.” His words bounce off the bathroom walls. It’s my voice, but less frail and weak. The way I should sound. But he’s speaking some strange language. I don’t know what he’s saying. I watch in horror as he extends his hand again, this time slipping through the glass. The, or what I knew to be, solid glass ripples apart like water at his touch. My touch. He says the strange words again, this time reaching out to me. I try to back away, but he grabs my wrist. I struggle, but I’m not strong enough to stop him.

    “Uoy pleh ll’I” he smiles as my hand enters the mirror. I want to scream, but I’m much to scared to. To scared to make a sound. He pulls me in further and further. I can feel my shoulder pass through the cold water feeling of the glass. Before I know it, I have this falling sensation. Everything is black, and I’m plummeting downward. I look up, and the only thing I can see is the mirror, and myself waving back.

    I feel a strange weightlessness about me, although I know I’m still falling. I let out a shrill screech as I feel my body twist over it’s self. I’m tumbling, over and over again, but I don’t hit the ground. I feel like there’s no end to my plummeting. I continued to scream. I have a feeling there isn’t a point to it, but that doesn’t stop my terror, my feeling of death. I reach out my arms and try to grab to something, but there’s nothing to grab onto. I can feel tears running up into the air off my face. My lungs hurt from screaming and I can’t breath.

    And then it hits me, the ground.

    I lay still for a moment, contemplating on what happened. I quickly breath in and out, not able to calm myself. I don’t hurt anywhere, although I know I hit the ground hard. I keep my eyes shut, too afraid to open them. My whole world is spinning and I want to throw up on the spot. It’s like I stepped into a dream, a nightmare, and I don’t know how to get out.

    A shrill giggle echo’s around me, bouncing off walls I know aren’t there. I shut my eyes tighter and tell myself it’s all a dream. But the giggle continues. It’s a girls giggle, she sounds young. Around my age maybe? I suddenly get this feeling as if I’m the one she’s laughing at. My stomic curdles again and I force my eyes even more shut.

    “You just gonna lay there?” I can hear her say from above me. Her words make me want to stand, but I’m too afraid. She burst out in giggles again, sharp glass like giggles.

    “Stand up boy!” I open my eyes wide in fear. That was daddy’s voice. I move myself to stand, pushing up on my knees for support. Why would daddy be in a place like this; a room full of nothing.

    The girl’s giggles start again, throwing themselves around the room of nothingness like bouncy balls. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Aren’t I just wonderful at impressions?” Her voice is like a bell, and I can’t help but nod. Was that her voice, it sounded so much like daddy’s. A shiver goes up my back at the thought.

    “Come here.” She says demandingly. Her voice sounds like it’s coming from in front of me, but I only see blankness. “You said you wanted help? Well then come here.”

    I can’t help but oblige. Slowly I take a step, just a small, shaky step.  Although as soon as I do, I can feel a strange sensation wash over me.  It’s like a soft wind blowing all around me, giving me small kisses.  A whooshing noise echoes around me as large ribbons fall from nowhere. There are hundreds of them, stripped black and white. I look up, but I can’t see the top of them. Almost like they just go on forever.  I reach out and grab one, it soft and silky feeling.

    “It’s so pretty.” I whisper. Slowly I rub my thumb across the ribbon, feeling entranced by it’s beautiful texture.

    “So, tell me…” It’s the girl again, I can hear her but not see her. “I know what you need. But what is it you want, and why.” She giggles. I let go of the ribbon and look around, although I can’t see her. All I can see are stripes of black and white.  I shake my head, how am I supposed to say it. How am I supposed to tell her…that I want my daddy to go away?

    “But why?” she says. I jump, wondering how she knew my thoughts. I don’t say anything; I just attempt to find her in the sea of ribbons.

    “Speak up!” She screeches, her voice that of a banshee. The sound sends shivers up my back, and forces my hands over my eyes.

    “Because…he’s so mean to me.” I whimper. It sounds wrong to say, like my tongue is sinning. I know that daddy would be very mad at me if he heard. He would tell me that I’m just a useless nothing, not even worth a thought. I whimper again, afraid of the strange world around me.

    “Then I’ll help you, but you have to do exactly as I say.” She demands. I nod in agreement, my face still buried in my hands.

    “But,” She announces, “I’m only gonna play by my own rules. That’s means that I’m going to teach you what you need, so that you can get what you want by yourself.”

[I'm not finished yet.... I'll post the rest later.]