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Reflection. Broken shards of the shattered mirror lay around him, blood oozed through the deep gashes in the top of his head,

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Reflection By James Pelham The noise was deafening despite the apparent silence in the room, the high-pitched squeal in his mind propelling pain through his limp body and when opening his dark eyes sending fresh agony into his disfigured face. Broken shards of the shattered mirror lay around him, blood oozed through the deep gashes in the top of his head, dying his greying brown hair a thick murky red; and as the mirror his life lay on the cold hard bathroom tiles in pieces. I couldn't help thinking as I lay there what would have happened if I stayed, if I hadn't left my parents some thirty years ago, where I would be now. Not lying on the floor waiting to die I'm at least sure of that. Finding little comfort in these thoughts I lay still, just waiting, as the warm blood trickled down my shivering neck, I looked down at the tattered picture of my parents I still held in my hand and wept. Dazed and confused I awoke to a faint bell chiming in the distance and, a little out of character, followed my clairvoyant curiosity. I wandered in earnest pursuing the chime, like shepherds to a star. The once dark streets appeared a little brighter with the golden tint of the streetlights shimmering off the damp pavement where I walk but whether I could see or not was of little significance as the chiming, like a virus, had begun to dominate my mind and lure me intently... ...read more.


With all the walking though that would have to wait, as I was weary, feeling the sense of my body giving way with every step. I decided to sleep in a diminutive cave I'd discovered about a half-mile back from where I'd come. Thinking as I did how I felt like one of the Lost Boys from Peter Pan - imagining it was a fairy tale made being there not seem so much like running away and in fact more like escaping. Yet I was calm and relaxed, not regretting for a moment leaving. My feet scrapped the ground sending a sharp pain up both my legs, the splintered bones tore at my clothes, blood gushed out of my wounds awakening me like some over-lived nightmare, my head ached as a warm liquid ran down my face into my petrified eyes with excruciating agony. My heart was racing faster than ever as the foul smelling beast dragged me deeper and deeper into the secluded woods, gouging my back on twigs and fallen branches as it took me close t...to...OH MY GOD! The burnished silver corners of what looked like a picture frame was all I could see at first and yet as soon as I saw it an incredible sensation surged up my body, sending shivers down my spine. The physical torment blocking out much of the previous anguish from my journey, similar to that I felt upon entering the woods. ...read more.


There was the chiming again but it now seemed to make much more sense. I believed it, when it told me why I am. I strolled forward, heightening sensation with every step, the chiming getting louder with every breath; I reached out my arms and grasped it with my hand. I was there. I'd searched for eternity and found the end. The majestically decorated mirror, I'd seen once for an instant; was standing beside me and I could see my reflection for the first time in years. What looked back was a monster; the cruelly neglected old man was there in front of me. He looked bewildered at seeing me again and in a fist of fury I cracked him around the jaw with my disfigured arm, his disfigured arm; and my jaw ached. As I struck the mirror the universe changed and I was back in the forest again huddled by a rock. The man stood above me, like before but this time I wasn't just a little boy, undaunted I picked up the rock and launched it towards him. The rock hit me hard throwing me backwards and cracking my head on a tree stump with the man standing over me. Barely conscious I brushed the shards of broken glass off my scabby body, scrambling to my knees, beer in hand; I spat blood over the peach bathroom sink. Observing my world whence returning to reality, a recurring nightmare of a Sunday morning. Letting out a final groan, dropping the tattered picture of my parents on my grave, I collapsed on the slate tiles with my brother standing over me. ...read more.

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