Peering (#OnceUponNow)

That Fateful Night

She brushed her black mane, counting each stroke, conceitedly focusing on every glamorous strand she had. Her eyes stared into the mirror, looking at herself with a stoned gaze. The mirror was golden in the sunlight but silver in the night. It hung on the wall over her beauty table. Countless concealers, lipsticks, eyeshadows, everything that would cover the natural beauty she had laid scattered around the black table.

There was a crack in the door, giving a slight view of her sitting. Her son's grey eye peered through, watching his mother obsessively brush her hair. If she was to brush any harder she would've plucked the fine hair from her scalp, leaving bloodied patches around.

"Mirror mirror, on the wall." Her voice had grown dull, different from the warm song he was used to. "Am I pretty? Or am I flawed?" she asked.

The boy gently pushed the door open a bit, avoiding the creaking of the hinges. Trying to find that sweet spot that would give him a full view of her and the mirror. There was a desire in him to know why she tucked away in her room when she stayed home. When she was out and about she never seemed to pay him any mind, as if he never existed. He was a son she couldn't recognize. A son that, he believed, she no longer loved.

"Who's more beautiful than I!?" her voice had raised.

He looked keenly through the crack, searching for the unheard voice that responded to her question. But he saw no one in the room.

"Tell me the name!" she slammed the brush down onto the table.

There was a static in the boy's ear, like a radio trying to tune into a distant voice. He rubbed his ears like he was trying to remove a thick gate of wax clogging his auditory canal. And as he looked into his mother's room he saw it. Something not in the room but in the reflection of the room within her mirror. A shimmering black woman. Her skin was darker than obsidian and twinkled like the country night sky. Her hair was long and black, a train rivaling Rapunzel. She stood behind his mother, whispering in her ear, leering into the mirror with mustard eyes.

He could hear the whispers, faintly growing stronger as if she was actually there. She oozed dread, a dread that made you question if there was something standing behind you even if your back was against a wall.

"Lumi...is more beautiful than you. And will become even more beautiful." The woman's voice gurgled, distorted and not entirely cohesive. As if she combined multiple languages into nonsense. But, somehow, it was completely understandable.

"My son, my boy, Lumi?" his mother asked.

"Yes, your son." She cracked her neck, "Don't you think it's time you ended it. Don't you want to be beautiful?"

"But he's my boy..." his mother looked down, her eyes wavering in the decision, "I love my boy." She continued brushing her hair with a spiritless gaze.

"You can always have another. One lesser than you. One that doesn't amount to the greatness you hold. Because if you let him live, he'll take everything you've ever wanted and own. If he hasn't already taken enough." She snickered, "He'll be the apple in your husband's eye. He'll be the awe gathering spectacle that you have become. You will become a shadow." Her arms sat on his mother's shoulders.

The boy's mouth opened slightly, he wanted to release a gasp, but he was stuck. He couldn't be hearing this. This shouldn't have been an idea in his mother's head to even attempt to sever their connection. He should have run but he couldn't bear to not know what her decision would be, he needed to know for his sake.

"When should I do it?" his mother asked poignantly.

The whispers couldn't be heard anymore. He looked at the mirror as the black being whispered in his mother's ear. The dark being cut her eyes at him through the mirror, smirking, enjoying the darkness she was feeding his mother. His mother turned her head sharply around, her eyes blackened.

void of light, void of white, void of life.

She ran towards the door. Radically pursuing him as the animal inside her freed itself to protect itself from a threat it deemed worthy of predation.

He ran down the stairs, his nine-year-old legs searching for each step in the dark. She hunted him in her white night gown devilish angel searching for the last remaining light in order to stamp it out. Lumi needed his father. Why wasn't he here?

He missed a step near the bottom and slammed into the floor. His head knocked against the cold wood, his fuzzy vision made objects swirl and blend into each other. The perpetual creak from the steps crept to his ears, rushing shivers along his skin. He looked back up the steps, seeing his mother. She took each step with vile confidence. He could only see the white shine, her face blurry, the darkness behind her creeping down the stairs. The woman he knew was no longer his mother. She didn't exude the warmth that cradled him at night, that sent him into a slumber when she read him night stories. This was an Evil Queen, one born right before his eyes.

Hiseyes fought to reside open, but his temples throbbed from the impact when hehit the floor. The last memory he had was her kneeling before him, her eyesblack as the oceans depths, snickering as his eyes closed.