mirror game

XIV.

A few moments passed by and an uncomfortable silence broke out between Harold and me. I quickly glanced over to him. He stood there, leaning against the sill with arms crossed in front of his chest. The white shirt looked too large on him. It made me think. In that moment, I was curious about how he died, how it happened, why it happened. And also, how he became a ghost and how it changed him. I mean, not his person or his character, more his body, like the physical structure and his skin, his muscles. For the love of God, Rose, what is wrong with you. I tried to blend out my subconscious. I knew it myself though, I was gone absolutely insane.

"You shouldn't be here." Harold noticed, making hold of my wrist and tugging me through the crowd. "Why aren't you in your room anyway?"

I was shocked. In one moment, I was able to talk to him like he was my friend, or at least I tried to tell myself he was, and in the other he acts like I was scum or his slave or something. I hated him. Unbelievable. I really, really hated him.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled out as he closed the door. The corridor was cold, the window yet so huge as I left it here. I pushed him away. A cross expression overlaid his features.

He stepped closer, I winced. His torso towered over me. I was able to smell him, I was really close to his chest. I was scared yet it was not the same fear as all the other time before this. It was awkward. As if someone tugged him into reality again, he let go of me and turned around, showing me his back. I saw him massaging his temples.

"Get upstairs again." That's all he said. "The next time I'll have to cage you in the basement."

I ran as fast as I could. What the fuck was even wrong with that guy? I believed he was schizophrenic or had some psychosis kind of disease. The one moment he is the nicest guy talking to me in days or weeks or whatever, the other moment he is cold and distant as if he would break out of his shuck any moment to become the ever so brutal monster I learned to know. I locked myself in the room I woke up every time I had fallen asleep. The smell, the light, its appearance. It just made me want to kill myself. Again.

"I tried it." I whispered in hope of getting to talk to my mirror reflection once again.

"I know." it replied a few moments later. "He's a tough nut to crack."

"Is that everything that comes to your mind? A tough nut to crack? You can't tell me you didn't realize that something is wrong with his personality. Something vast. Maybe he's sick. Maybe he is schizophrenic." I nearly yelled.

Anger built up inside of me. I had to let it out soon, all the sorrow and pain from the last couple of days.

"Hm.." it said. "Whilst you were gone I found something that's gonna light up your fucked mood again."

"Oh really" my voice really didn't sound any kind of excited, just because I really wasn't at all.

"Yeah. Down the corridor, the last door on the right side." it said. "Maybe having a look inside there will help us."

I nodded. I couldn't figure out anything that's going to help us now but I at least tried to accept its help. My own help, duh. Maybe it wasn't Harold being the from schizophrenia raided one. Maybe it was me. But that was okay. I was alone anyway so myself was my only accompany.

"Go have a look at night. Not now. Too obvious. He's still angry, I guess."

I nodded again. I wasn't sure if my mirror reflection could see me, since I couldn't see it. I just heard it. It was awkward hearing myself. I never thought my voice sounded like that. Nevermind.

-

It was all dark. I didn't know what time it was though, I assumed it was about midnight. The time between now and the time I got in again, after the thing with me and Harold had happened, I spent with sleeping, staring at the wall, having a look outside the window and what not. All that kind of stuff you do when you're bored as fuck. So I stood up from the floor, walked over to the door, opened it and had to realize that the corridor was all dark. Literally all dark. Not even any light. I didn't even see the hand in front of my face. I really really wished for a low-light level camera or the magical skills of a ghost to see anything.

"Not again." I sighed quietly as I slowly walked up the direction I had to walk in. "Why is it always me?" I complained. Talking to myself. Wow. "It's always me, the victim for everyones' shit."

I arrived at the end of the corridor. My hands groped for a door handle on the wall. I finally found it, pushed it down and the door swung open. There was light floating through the windows. They revealed a view on the city down there. I tried so hard not to break into tears as I saw everything down there. My eyes discovered the dried blood on the floor, the broken mirror, the shards everywhere on the floor. And - the phone. Natt's phone. I broke onto it, holding it in my hands. The battery was dead anyway but at least I had it. I found it. And I would protect it with my life, with everything I had, if Harold came to take it away from me. It sounds stupid, I know, but this is everything that was leftover which once belonged to one of my closest friends. And if I came out of this house, I would charge the phone, watch the recordings and get the police to destroy this house and Harold with it. I sat on the floor, held the phone, stared outside the window and couldn't believe what life was doing to me.

-

something I found out is that i'm bloody bad at doing long chapters

anyway

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