Flattening my body against the wall, I squeeze my eyes shut. Upon opening my eyes I let out my breath. I’v been holding it, without even realizing. The hallway I’m standing in is dark. Too dark, unable to see even my hand, I must trust. “Please God if your there, don’t let him be up here. Don’t let him see me. Please. ” even though I’m thinking the words they sound desperate. Laying my palms flat on the wall, I slowly slid my foot sideways. Where are the stairs? If I go too far everything will be ruined. The stairs, no! There were at least 12 mirrors following the path of the winding staircase I’m trying to find. Why did I even listen to him?
“Nicky, darling, where are you? I can’t find you. Are you hiding from me?” His voice reverberates off the walls. Coming from no particular direction it’s everywhere.
Now he knows. Where can I go, were there mirrors in this hallway?
“Darling…” Drawing the word out, he makes it drip with sarcasm. Even the sound of his voice repulses me. Amazing, just knowing about the mirrors eliminated my trust in him. So there are mirrors in this hallway. Staying as far away from the glass as I can; I run.
”AH! There you are. Come back!” Laced with hatred a voice I’v never heard rings out. A hand snatches the end of my hair; twisting its fingers, around and around, pulling me closer, and closer.
No! You won’t get me like this. I will leave this house. Determination surges through me. Angry now, I twist me body around till I can see the hand. Thin white fingers enter laced through my brown hair. “Let go of me! You demon let me go!” A hysterical voice that sounds nothing like my own; erupts from my mouth. Followed by my hands clawing at the arm. Piercing the mirrors glossy surface is the elbow of my attacker. Get rid of the mirror. The statement is simple, yet the only possible escape. The mirror has an elaborate frame consisting of intertwined metal. I’m sorry to break the mirror but I must. Before I can change my resolve I smash the mirror with my hand. The mirror shatters, as the pieces fall to the ground the hand disintegrates into flat panes of glass.
“Break a mirror, for seven years you’ll have bad luck. That was a very big mistake Nicky,” Laughter follows the statement. My eyes quickly glance up. The mirror is no longer a mirror. Now it is an empty frame. A harmless frame hanging on a wall. "Is he right? He always is, "
OK i am so lost, and I'm the one writing this thing! I seriously need a clear mind to read this for me.
