A Life Beyond the Mirror

Chapter 1

I wrench my eyes open, a haze blurs my vision. I rub them to try and clear it. Where the hell am I? The sound of crackling and screaming in the distance breaks through the ringing in my ears. The smell of smoke, fills my nose. I try to get up. I panic, stumbling to my feet. A face comes into focus.

"I need to get you out of here!" He shouts, grabbing my hand. His warm hands, comforting and strong. His green eyes filled with fear, fear for me. His dark hair, dishevelled.

A loud crash rumbles the earth and throws us forward. Blood curdling screams everywhere.

I jump awake. Not again. This is the same nightmare I've had over the last two years. My body tingling with goose bumps and a cold sweat layering the top of my skin. I take a few deep breaths and swing my legs off the edge of the bed. I stand stretching and rubbing my eyes. As I go to walk, I trip and fall , cracking my knee against the cold, hardwood floor.

"Toby! How many times have I told you not to sleep there!" I shout at the dog, rubbing my sore knee. He grumbles back in answer.

"Theadora? Are you awake? The movers will be here in an hour! I hope you've finished packing!" My mother shouts up the stairs.

Why does she always say my name like that? It's Thea. I look around my room. Boxes half packed, clothes all over the floor. Oops.

"Yeah mum! Almost done!" I say while frantically throwing clothes into the suitcase. I lie on top of the suitcase, forcing it closed with all my might and stuffing clothes back in that are trying to break free from the squeeze as I zip it up. Once it's closed, I realise, I've packed all my clothes and I'm still in my pyjamas. I quickly take out an outfit and stuff in my pjs. Thank god it's my favourite hoodie. I pulled it over my head and pulled out my dark brunette hair. I look in the mirror. Freckles dotted over my nose, my eyes dark blue and glassy, fresh from sleep.

I through the rest of my room into the boxes, hearing the clunk of different objects, hoping I haven't damaged them to much. Lastly are my photos. I take them down off the wall, being careful not to drop the frames. I linger of over my father. The picture was of a summer when I was eight. We were in the sea playing he was lifting me out of the surf. The memories flash through my mind like Polaroid snapshots. I smile and fight tears.

"You ready- hey I thought you said you were done?" My mum says walking into my room. Hands on hips as she looks around, disapprovingly.She walks over, looking over my shoulder, she eyes soften at the picture in my hands.

"That was a good day." She says rubbing my shoulders affectionately. A sigh escapes her.

"Do you think he misses us?" I ask.

"I don't know Thea, I hope so. Wherever he may be." She says, her words dripping with disappointment."I'll help you finish. The van will be here soon."

I put the picture in the tissue paper and place it delicately in the box.

My father disappeared about two years ago. No calls, messages and hasn't accessed any money since. Police say they can't help us any longer. They scoured the site my dad was meant to be working, the area was large but there was no evidence of him ever being there. My mother thinks he 'ran off with another woman.' I heard her tell her friends one night. I can understand why. Before he disappeared, he was acting fishy, restless. He left for work one morning and just never came home. I can't help but miss him though. I don't think he would do that to us. He wasn't like that. He loved us.

As we finish packing a horn blares outside.

"That'll be them." Mum says and moves for the door. "I know you're not happy about this move. But your grandmother needs us. After her fall she needs a bit of help, and the job that I start there is better than the one here.'"

"I know Mum. It's fine." I say taping up a box.

We are moving from my childhood home in Cheshire to Pembrokeshire. My grandmother, my fathers' mother, has deteriorated since Dad disappeared. She thinks something bad happened to him. The doctors said that her mind has created a reality she believes to be real, to protect herself. She talks about Morgens, nymphs and witches, but the sentences don't make sense, and honestly sounds like she's off her trolley. She fell a couple of weeks ago and had been in hospital after breaking her hip. The doctor advised Mum that she would need a lot of help from now and she shouldn't be living alone. So here we are. Moving across the country to live with an old crazy lady that thinks there are faeries in her garden. Sorry, not faeries, fae.

We load the last of the boxes into the van, I step inside my home one last time and take it in with a deep breath, trying to take it all in for the last time. The height chart on the doorframe. The love that once filled this house, the laughter, the warmth. Now a shell, for the next family to fill.

"Come on, Thea. Time to go." She places her hand on my shoulder delicately. My mother is a beautiful woman, but the stress from my father disappearance has aged her. Her black hair dyed to hide the greys and her tired eyes always hidden behind her glasses.

We turned to the door and closed it behind us. One last time.