When The Mirror Breaks..

Part II

(Authors Note:)

Parts I, II, and III are not following the schedule. They are all coming out today, but after that it will be once or twice a week.

She woke in the house's bedroom, her bedroom, lying down on her bed. Olivia was standing over her, her head tilted. She had been crying. Olivia sniffed and sat down next to her mother. "Why did you come for me?"

"I couldn't let you die. And- I feared you would hate me." The mother replied, her eyes wide and watering. "You have to understand, I never wanted to hurt you. I just needed to keep Olive safe, I needed to keep myself safe- I had to save the world." The mother sobbed in her hands and then touched her face. She saw her gas mask hanging on the wall. The mother's breathing labored and she scrambled back from Olivia. She ran to the gas mask and hurried to put it on.

"Look what you've done, you foolish girl- all my efforts will be wasted!"

Olivia glared.

"All that you have done- what nonsense! You kept me from the world, tortured me, instead of finding a doctor!"

Olivia reached up towards the chandelier and struggled to find something. She had trouble because of her near-blindness, but she managed to pull down a thin rope. "I don't want to live in the world you've created. It's dark, and it's scary. And you give me no choice so- I don't want to live at all."

The mother's eyes widened further.

Olivia stood up on the bed, watching her blurry mother sway against the wall. She wrapped the rope around her neck and tied it tight.

"I hope you die a thousand deaths"

And she jumped.

The mother lay down in her bed. The babysitter was gone, of course. Olive had peppered his mother with questions, but she didn't want to talk. She wasn't sure she'd ever talk again. It was one thing to leave one to die, of course. It didn't make you a killer. But watching death- it was like killing itself. Back in the house, the mother was frozen in place, stuck to the wall, forgetting to breathe the air the gas mask gave. She couldn't turn her gaze away, couldn't help her child, she felt monstrous. But.. was she really a monster? It was Olivia's choice after all. She really had no say, no part in this at all.

Yes, the mother realized. It wasn't her fault at all. She was the victim here. She was sure that the disease had affected Olivia's mind. Olivia had gone insane. That's all.

A black cat walked across the top of the fence outside. The mother turned in her bed and turned off the light.

The next morning, the mother woke up with an itch in her throat. She coughed in her hand and was relieved to see there wasn't any powder that came out of her throat. The mother went into the kitchen and started brushing her teeth. As soon as she put her tooth brush down, she felt the itch again and coughed into the sink. No powder. She sighed in relief and started bustling about and making breakfast. It looked sunny outside, so she put cinnamon oatmeal and hard boiled eggs and buttered toast and apples in plastic bags and containers and called Olive to come downstairs. He stumbled down the steps and smiled at his mother, grabbing some plastic utensils and following her out the door. She went to the city's mall park and grabbed a nearby wooden table, setting down everything. They began to eat. After the sky had turned from orange to blue, Olive got up and ran around the trees singing a lullaby to himself. The mother sighed contently and did her best to not think about the choked purple face of Olivia or the pale black-eyed face of the father. She felt the itch in her throat again and coughed in her hand. Something black landed in her hand and she squinted at it. It was dust. Dark, dry dust. It felt hard and compact yet airy and loose. The mother let it fall to the ground. Her breathing started to quicken. The wind seemed to slow down and the outlines of the trees sharpened. The mother could barely hear Olive's hum.

"Mummy, I want another egg."

Olive wandered over to the picnic table, looking down at his shirt and playing with a loose seam.

He paused when he saw the scatter of dust on the ground, the wind picking it up and toying with it.

"Mummy?"

The mother scrambled up from her seat and screamed for Olive to stay put. She ran back to the house and locked herself in her bedroom. The mother's breathing slowed and she sat down on her bed, weeping. After a moment, she took a deep breath and put on the gas mask. She stretched winter mittens over hands, put on a jacket, long swimsuit, rain boots and put her hair in a baseball cap. She walked back outside and entered the mall. People stared at her in awe. She avoided their gazes and went into the courtyard. Olive was still standing near the table.

She sat down at the table and crossed her legs. Olive stared at her and slowly backed up.

He sat down near a tree.

"Listen," the mother started, her voice a throaty whisper, changed further from the mask.

"I'm sick. Really sick. And I don't want to be a danger to you, Olive. Your sister died from this illness. It affected her mind. Made her go insane. She almost dragged me down with her but I stayed strong." The mother lifted her head. "But now-" The mother slouched sadly. "Everything I did was for you, you have to understand that. Now my efforts are wasted, I've caught the disease and put you in danger. So, I need you to listen to me. I am quarantining at the apartment, and as soon as I leave here, you need to phone your grandpa and have him take you home. Don't talk to any strangers, stay safe- I love you, Olive."

The mother cried, under the mask. She couldn't wipe them away, so they dripped down her cheeks and clung to her chin.

"Goodbye."

Olive watched his mother stumble away, and gazed down at the grass. This wasn't real- was it? Life seemed to be taking a pause. He heard his mother's words in his head, they were really slow and low-sounding. Olive chuckled. What a strange dream. He burped and tasted eggs. They tasted farmy and bloody and he felt like he needed to vomit. Olive sniffed and swayed in the grass. He looked around. Where was mummy? Oh- she had said something about going to grandpa's. Olive blinked and swayed again. He could taste those eggs really strongly now. He walked to the table- why had he been sitting near a tree? And picked up a piece of toast. He munched on it and wandered out of the yard. He entered the main mall and saw two men in black looking around and leaning against a store. One was smoking a stick-looking thing and the other had a handkerchief. He was coughing, violently. Olive heard one of them say, "Is that the boy?" Olive squinted, it looked like they were pointing to him. "Yes-" Olive felt a needle get pressed into his skin. He dropped his toast. All went black.