April 14, 2014
When Jace woke up that morning, bristlebirds trilled in the thickets; the sound echoing sweetly in the silent neighborhood. Pine trees danced along the soft, crisp breeze; leaves slowly falling from their branches.
From the casement windows of her empty room, she watched the sun burning whole: the blood-orange ball beaming before her eyes.
She heaved a deep and heavy sigh with a lopsided smile on her parched lips.
For once in my life, I’m out of the city, she thought to herself. For once in my life, everything is peaceful. Everything is fine. Everything is perfect.
Just as she spaced out, a shuttering sound snapped her out of her thoughts.
Slowly, she hopped out of bed and followed the noise to an old, abandoned mirror on the basement downstairs. It had a simple Victorian design with scratches and scrapes all over the marmol frame; still looking royal and majestic.
Staring over her reflection, she came face to face with her worn out visage; pale skin, oily nose, cracked lips, and droopy eyes.
“I’m beautiful,” she chuckled.
She slowly fixed the wrinkles of her shirt, still widely smiling. She stood and gazed for a couple more seconds before a woman’s countenance appeared; lips pursed, eyes strained open, face white between the stains of gore.
"Who are you?" Jace bravely asked. Her pulses were now racing; bullets of dread shooting every fiber in her body.
She wanted to yell, she wanted to scream but a desperate struggle went on within her.
She stood motionless, trying to remember how to breathe while waiting for a response but there was none.
Dubiously, she caressed her fingers on the rough surface (of the mirror); a sharp sensation on her touch, when suddenly…
The doorbell rang.
