Locked in the Mirror

The Start

It's been almost a month and a half, and nothing else bad has happened.

School is going pretty well, except for Vagia's constant nerves as the annual race keeps getting canceled. However, even so, my life has improved greatly a long time ago.

Every day I'm overwhelmed by that feeling where you sense that for some reason, you've struggled through half of your life. Like, for some reason, I had to leave like a hunted person from the place where I was born and knew like the back of my hand. I feel like... all of this had to happen for me to end up here. To meet these wonderful people.

As if some force is pulling me towards this small town.

Nevertheless, I can't ignore the feeling that I'm being watched. Several times a day, I feel an unblinking eye on me, observing my every move incessantly. I try to ignore it, and most of the time, I succeed. However, there are moments when this sensation is so strong that it causes me continuous shivers.

As if that wasn't enough, there's also the constant fear of my wall's golden mirror. I might not have noticed anything else in my reflection, but over the past month, it's been appearing in my dreams. Not as the main feature, just present in the surrounding environment. My eye always meets it in my dreams, and as soon as I realize what it is, I wake up abruptly.

After a week, I mentioned it to the girls. Both of them argue that, because of that dreadful dream with the dress, my mirror has become an obsessive idea, and that's why it appears in my dreams. They can't understand what I mean though.

But I know. I know very well that the mirror is not what it seems.

Only Oscar seems to believe me. Not too much. Just a little. And I bet he does it because he cares about me.

We're lying down on his bed, looking at the ceiling.

His hand is tenderly around me, embracing me gently. His head is next to mine, and with his free hand, he's playing with a strand of my hair.

I'm trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach.

"Are you still thinking about the mirror?" he whispers to me.

"I can't seem to get it out of my head.'' I admit.

He gets up and props himself on his elbow, not letting go of my hair.

"Are you overanalyzing too much? You've ingrained in your mind that this mirror will harm you," he says.

"And what if you're wrong?" I ask him. "And if it somehow hurts me?"

A chuckling sound comes from his throat.

"What could it possibly do? The only way it could harm you is if it breaks and you cut yourself. Or do you mean it'll suck you in?"

My stomach tightens at that reference. I might have told him everything, but I definitely skipped the'' first dream'' part, and I have no intention of bringing it up.

I sigh in frustration and turn away.

"Are you mad?" he asks me, his voice dripping with sweetness, and I can immediately hear the smile in his voice.

"Leve me alone," I retort, trying to annoy him.

The good thing about our relationship is that we don't act like we're about to lose each other. Besides being a couple, we're friends.

The bed creaks under his weight, and suddenly he's on top of me.

"Look at me!" he says in a whiny voice.

I forcefully close my eyes.

"Come on now. Don't make me open them by force!"

"I'd really love to see you try," I throw back at him.