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The face

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Tears stream down his cheeks as he slams the door and hits the light switch, instantly covering the room with darkness. He can still hear them screaming and fighting although the door muffles the sounds coming from his parent's bedroom. His tears gradually turn to muted sobs as he buries his face deeper into his soft pillows. For once the fight isn't about him, for once it isn't his name they are screaming, but still he feels he is to blame, he is at fault... Time passes but to him it doesn't matter, it doesn't exist. The screaming from his parent's bedroom has stopped, but it still echoes through his mind. Every word, every shed tear a vivid, his tears stop yet the echo resides as he reaches for the lighter hidden in the back of his bedside draw. Why am I such a wimp? He said to himself. He flicks on a flame and stares at it momentarily allowing his eyes to dance with the flame before lighting a candle he keeps on his window sill. The candle pushes back the darkness and bathes the room in a gentle warming glow... a soothing glow, but to him it's out of place, it doesn't belong... just like him... The homely glow of the candle is a mocking fire of happiness he will never achieve. ...read more.


His parents had gone out, to where he didn't know and frankly he doesn't care. The only time the house is quiet is when they aren't there. Finally another day in his life has ended and he has locked himself in his room; his parents had come home early. They had gone out shopping "apparently," but Simon knew the truth as did both his parents, his dad had gone to the bar again; he stank of alcohol and couldn't stand straight for more than a minute without support, and his mum had gone to 'discuss work' with a colleague, yet the makeup and the smell of another man's aftershave on her told Simon that she had gone to visit her boyfriend: which she did more and more these days. Yet his father was too drunk to notice. Before he had managed to stumble into the house he was already shouting, Simon wasn't sure if it was directed at him or his mother. To be honest he didn't care, he ran upstairs as his father struggled with the door, both doors slamming simultaneously, one open, one shut. Simon was safe from his drunken fathers rage...for now. As the sun dipped lower in the sky his father's got louder and louder, until the walls echoed with his drunken anger. Finally the sun had faded behind the horizon and Simon could hide in the darkness. ...read more.


Soon this was the least of his worries, he felt the strength fade from his body, his body withering excruciatingly as the life was slowly being drained from him. Droplets of blood were slowly squeezing out his pores until there was a slowly continuous trickle of blood coming out of every available orifice and pore. His vision finally fading to black and the final audible sound other than the blood gurgling out his ears is the sound of every bone splintering in his shriveling crumbling form. Finally the reflection blinks letting Simon's father fall free from his gaze. His body collapses to the blood soaked floor in a crumpled heap of empty skin and bone splinters. Hours passed until Simon finally woke up, sitting up slowly he wiped away the blood from his mouth, and his eyes focus on the ruined form of what was left of his father. Yet he doesn't scream, he doesn't cry instead he smiles softly, a blood chilling smile turning slowly to face his reflection in the mirror the smile not leaving his lips he whispers: "Thank you" His reflection returns the same cold, eerie smile embracing Simon in its gaze. "You're safe now Simon, I will protect you from anyone who dares try bring harm to you, but I need you to do something for me" Simon's smile slowly fades and his brow furrows in confusion, hesitantly he asks: "What do you want me to do?" His reflection smiles tracing its finger lightly over the mirror. "Now, where's your mother?" ?? ?? ?? ?? ...read more.

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