The Psychological Mystery of Thomas King

Chapter Seventeen: Visions In Shattered Glass

Thomas

I saw Liam about to get into his car, which was parked outside a local cafe. Fuming, I started towards him and slammed him into the black shiny metal of his truck. He yelped in both surprise and pain.

"How could you?" I asked. "Why would you hide something like this from me?" Even though he probably knew what I was talking about, he chose to play dumb.

A big mistake.

"What are you talking about?" He lied, pushing my hands off of him. Liam straightened his wrinkled shirt. "I didn't hide anything from you."

"Yes you did." I said, the burning hatred never left my voice. "Hailey told me what you did." He sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry-" He started but I interrupted him with a sharp laugh.

"Ha! You even tried to lie to me." I said, running my hands through my hair. "Since when did you become so secretive?"

"Since that night, I found out what those people did to you." He said, matching his harsh tone with mine. "I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what, exactly?" I asked, crossing my arms. "Protecting me from others, or from myself?"
"Both." He said. "If your mom found out what really happened, who knows what she'll do. You already suspect that she's involved in this anyway. You've endured enough stress and pain already, I wasn't ready to put you through that anymore."

"That doesn't matter," I started,"You had no right to keep that from me. All I ever wanted was to figure out what was wrong with me, what those people did to me and you didn't give me that answer, because you were scared." I thought for a second.

No. He couldn't have thought that. We've been best friends for years.

"Y- You're scared of me. Aren't you?"

He didn't answer.

I was right.

Tears came to my eyes, my eyes burning but I refused to wipe them away as they fell.

"Look, I-It's not that," He said, his voice cracking. "I was just scared of what you would've done if you found out. I didn't want you to do something dangerous and reckless."

"That's not up to you!" I yelled. "I could've made that choice by myself!"

"You're not listening!" He raised his voice at me. "We're all worried about you, Thomas! We're worried you'll do something that could get you killed!"

He sighed, frustrated and ran his hand through his hair. "Look. I'm sorry." He said. "I should have told you sooner. I didn't know what I was thinking. I'm just scared and I want my life to go back to the way it was. We all do. But I know that can never happen and I-" He stopped himself. "I'm sorry."

The hatred still never left my soul. Though it was probably immature for me back then to think that way, I hated him.

At that exact moment, I hated him.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too." I said, still in the same angry tone, walking away from Liam. "I'm sorry our friendship had to end this way."

"What?" He asked. "What are you talking about?"

I didn't want to lose my best friend. After everything that's happened I couldn't lose anyone.

I couldn't.

But I didn't turn around. I just kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

*******

Thankfully no one was home when I came back. I didn't know where my sister or my mom were, but I enjoyed the silence. Besides, I didn't want them to see me like this. I went into my bathroom and locked the door. My mind was jumbled with so many thoughts and questions.

I looked up at the mirror and all my feelings disappeared, replaced by confusion.

The mirror seemed to be glitching, like a broken television. It showed someone drowning in water, but only parts of the mirror seemed to be showing that image. I touched the mirror and the image finally appeared, clearly. I could see that a teen around my age was desperately trying to swim to the surface, but he couldn't.

I stepped back, amazed at the wonder, but shocked at what I just witnessed. At this point, I wasn't scared of the mirror anymore. I wasn't scared of anything that's been happening to me. It's like my feelings had been emptied out, scooped away by a spoon like one would scoop away the pulp of a pumpkin.

I gripped the edge of the sink, my knuckles turning white as my supernatural thoughts came back to me.

The dreams.

The ghosts.

The monster.

The asylum.

The mirror.

I didn't feel fear, or shock or sadness. The only thing I could feel now was:

Anger.

I raised my fist and punched the mirror. The mirror instantly cracked, and my knuckles split open, but I didn't care. I punched it over and over and over again. The only thing I could see now was a broken fragmented image of the boy in the water, and the blood that covered the shattered glass.

I dropped to my knees, the ghosts of my past seeming to surround me. I sat against the wall and buried my head in my lap, drawing my knees up to my chest. I took a deep breath and I let all my emotions out.
I cried.

Tears fell down my face, wetting the white carpet with water.

And I screamed, as loud as I could, not caring who would hear me. I screamed so loud that my demons seemed to disappear. That my world seemed to disappear. That all my worries, my troubles were gone.

So I kept screaming.

And screaming.

And screaming.

Until the world seemed to black out and I relaxed in a world full of darkness.

And nothingness.