Come back to me... (4)

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It all began after I gave him that book, I had arrived back to my dorm and decided to nap. It wasn't as if I was tired but I had a headache and I wanted to soothe it out by sleeping. Although that was my plan I stayed awake and spent most of my time looking up absentmindedly at the ceiling. The pounding in my head never ceasing as it felt like the toll of a bell was ringing inside.

I had tried to switch positions but with the constant rummaging, all that came out of my movements was the unraveled sheets and messy look once I sat up.

I couldn't sleep, it was something that I decided to combat as I tried to ignore the headache I had. I slowly gathered myself and put my feet on the floor from my bed, before leaping upwards like a cannon to venture to my bathroom.

It was my own reflection in the mirror that I remembered the most. My own eyes that peered into my own, my own stoic expression that I miraculously had. I remember when I smiled until my past caught up to me and it made me shiver, when I remembered how I once smiled my lips wanted to curve up. Naturally, it didn't because it caused a huge amount of pain when I tried.

So when I saw my own reflection slowly twist itself into a contorted grin, my eyes which were half asleep shot wide open and I became motionless. Paralysed by an unknown fear, my own legs refusing to respond to me.

"W-What..." My mutter which was a sliver of what I usually sounded like.

My eyes which were glued on the mirror never felt so caught. Not captivated by a sight that I found endearing or mesmerising, I was caught in a vision of a nightmare that I couldn't take my eyes off.

The stain of a smirk carved into my expression, the crimson red of blood clouding my eyes because they made me look. I had an open mouth, I wasn't awed but simply terrified by the sight of my own face. The simple face I once had was now gone, lost to the sight of a monster.

I remembered that day vividly, that memory of seeing my own face and meeting her. My other half, I was awestruck afterwards but in those few moments I was mere seconds away from hyperventilating. My head which was pounding had become something to be forgotten as the pain switched to my heart. A pain stricken and agonising expression I wore when I clutched onto my shirt, I knelt down back then because the pain was unbearable.

"Hello." The voice I remembered was my own.

It was that day when I met her and I realised that when I looked at crimson that all crimson was, was crimson. Red, no blood or symbolism for danger. All that met me was a gaze that was red and crimson, a deep shade that I was afraid of. My own eyes that I gazed upon and writhed in when I was faced with it.

I had a conversation with my other self, she was more sinister than normal; an outcast who had an eye for revenge was something I could categorise her as.

Although, the context our conversation was mostly lost due to how I was speaking to myself. There was little for me to reminisce on and a lot to look back on at the same time. When she disappeared was when I lifted my hand, a firm piece of plastic nestled within it and I tightened my grip on it.

A memory card, in my hand that I used and watched the contents within. I had my computer all set up with my gaze drawn ever so closely to it, I had like before become completely focused.

It was there and then when the video began.

"Stop!" The wailing of a child so bruised and tattered.

"Please! Make it stop!" Another howl, a girlish tone that made me shake. No girl so young should scream so hauntingly.

"Help! Someone! They killed him! They killed him!" Another shout so loud that it nearly burst my eardrums.

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