I woke up in the middle of the night. I was sweating profusely and my mind had never been so restless before. I walked over to the washroom and switched on the light. My surroundings seemed hazy and my heart continued to race.
What’s wrong with me? Something doesn’t feel right. Did I have a nightmare?
Is that why I feel so nervous?
I kept asking myself over and over again. Something bugged me and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I washed my face with ice-cold water. In the dim-lit washroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. My chest tightened as I saw a girl staring back at me.
She was pale and young with dark hair cascading down her shoulders. A white feather flowed down her head as if it had become part of her hair. Her striking blue eyes had sunken into their hollows and dark shadows circled them. Her lips were pursed in a thin red line. She looked so young and so old. Her small frame spoke of a child not older than eight but her tired stance told tales of decades.
Her eyes never left my sight and as she stared at me, a searing pain burned the back of my eyes. Her gaze pierced my own. Even though the temperature seemed to have dropped a few degrees, a trickle of sweat ran down my back.
Who is she?
She opened her mouth. I couldn’t hear her but her eyes said it all:” Your worst nightmare.”
A shiver traced my spine. I shrieked so loud that my own ears hurt. But her face remained static. I panicked and turned around to escape the washroom but the door shut itself. I turned to the mirror and the girl vanished. I couldn’t even see myself. A mist coiled into the tiny room. I screamed again, hoping desperately that someone would come to my rescue. Nobody did.
I started panting and tears formed at the corner of my eyes. I banged at the bathroom door. I kicked, wailed and screamed at the top of my voice. Nobody heard. I started gasping for air. My hand reached out to touch the mirror. I couldn’t. Some forced repelled me. The girl reappeared with a slight twinkle in her blood shot eyes.
“Leave me alone!” I shouted, begging for mercy. The little energy left in my body drained out, leaving me in a mess of limbs. My knees buckled under the pressure of my body and I leaned against the sink to remain standing.
I looked up to face the girl in the mirror. Her thin red lips twitched and formed a smirk. That simple gesture made my anxiety peak. Anger bubbled inside of me. How dare she? My anger surpassed anxiety. I wanted to bang the mirror. I wanted to hurt the little girl. Crush her. Strangle her with my bare hands. Pierce her with shards of glass. Make her suffer pain in the most excruciating ways.
But I couldn’t even get myself to stand straight. My chest was heaving and I could feel the life getting sucked out of me.
No. I need to fight it.
I pushed myself to fight the sinister hand that threatened to drag me away. My body seemed to have lost all its color. My knuckles looked a hue of purple as I pushed my hand forward one more time. My hand reached for the mirror. It took all the will in me to push past the repulsion. Pain shot throughout my body. Suffocation attempted to strangle me. My hand felt limper by each second. I could barely breathe.
And when my finger made contact with the mirror, my breathing stopped entirely. I saw the mirror crack and the girl’s eyes widen. A screeching noise impaled my ears followed by shattering.
And I saw as my body crumbled into a heap.
And a white feather settled on top of it.
I noticed that I haven’t written any short story in quite a long while. So I decided to try my hand at horror (If this qualifies as horror). Do let me know what you think about it in the comments below. If you liked this post, hit the “Like” Button. If not, be my guest and tell me what I could have done differently. 🙂
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Until next time.