Selfreflection

It's getting colder today.

Kyle lies on a flatbed in an empty room - his sister isn't here as usual. His gaze is drawn to the high ceiling: without blinking, he torments the emptiness above his head, which appeared to him in the form of a white canvas - and even then, they turned a little blue from the darkness outside the window. It was quite late, and it was getting dark earlier at this time of the year. And in that cold dark room, with no light outside the window, Kyle was tormented by his own thoughts.

But in the loneliness, he found comfort.

He didn't dream of having a lot of friends like other teenagers did in their sixteens; He didn't share the passion of his sister, who had been going out with a group of other musicians lately (of course, it bothered him a little, but he didn't interfere). He was not bored without her, sharing the loneliness and emptiness of the cold room with no one - at these moments he only plunged too deep into his mind abyss.

The heater was not turned on, and the blanket, carelessly crumpled, lay on the floor under the young man's feet. The wind was blowing outside the window, and the voices outside the walls had faded away, as if lurking in the dark corners of the corridor. Outside the door of his room, there must have been a buzz of life, and people were actively discussing the latest news, as always. But Kyle didn't care.

Kyle desired to be alone.

But at the same time, as he warmed himself in the embrace of loneliness, he was too invested to his thoughts. There was nothing bright or joyful among the shelfs of his mind. In the "desired" loneliness that accepted him without a question, Kyle stumbled over the anxious thoughts that tormented him from within. More likely, dragging him deep, deep to the bottom of the swamp - anxiety wrapped a tenacious grip around his legs, arms, gaunt body - and dragged him into the depths of self-destruction. There were also fears nearby, prickly like thorns on a young rose. Kyle's fears were indeed like flowers, where the rosebud was his everyday thoughts and the thorns were the fears that trailed behind them; and Kyle hurts himself over and over as he tries to reach for the alluring, fragrant flower. He doesn't notice them right away - only when he takes the bud in his hands, only then the sharp thorns, reminding daggers, pierce his fingers and the crimson blood flows. The pain lasts only a second, and the wound is very-very tiny, but the blood continues to flow for some time, and the place where the thorns have sunk will be still reminding of itself with aching pain for a while.

Kyle blinks sharply, trying to push away the frightening thoughts. It is as if he chooses to pluck the prickly roses and hurt himself, but he can't suppress them – no matter how hard he tries.

Kyle sighs.

In a second, the young man jumps out of bed on trembling knees and heads for the bathroom, closing the door behind him. This is important in case any midnight creatures are tempted to appear in the doorway. The young man lifts his head, resting thin hands on a ceramic sink, and meets his own gaze in the mirror. Kyle examines himself, slowly glancing over own face: his features are thin and neat, but cheeks betray a childlike puffiness. Kyle has long black hair that stands out beautifully against his pale skin - especially with the lighting in his bathroom. The nose is slightly upturned, the lips are thin, slightly parted - from restless breathing. But Kyle focuses most of his attention on the most important thing in himself - his eyes.

His eyes are large, curious, and deep blue, like a turbulent evening sea, or a sleeping night sky. Kyle had beautiful eyes, and an expressive, always emotional glance – even if Kyle wasn't experiencing anything. The glance – it is what has always stood out. And his own glance is what had always helped to distinguish himself from others when he experienced a strange feeling of losing touch with reality, when all people seemed to be similar to each other – as if they were all the same.

But Kyle never spoke about it.

Not of the swamp, to the bottom of which he was dragged by tenacious, strong hands. Not about thorny rose bushes, neither about the same people from time to time, appearing, lost in each other's shadows. He didn't even share it with his twin sister, with whom he was particularly close. Kyle was sure that she had a lot of problems without him overthinking - and why let her worry again? As if there isn't enough trouble without him.

And Kyle didn't like to cry. And get angry. And complain about life. And in general, he did not consider it necessary to show and somehow express all the negative emotions - at least in his case exclusively. He'd always goaded his friends and his sister not to keep it all to themselves, but Kyle himself suppressed the swarm of chaotic emotions that took variety of different forms. And he has done it for as long as he can remember. Why would he bring even more negativity into other people's lives?

He will manage on his own.

…

"Who is here again?"

A piercing cold penetrated the bathroom walls.

Kyle looked up from himself in the mirror and only in a second, he saw a figure lurking in the corner, as if it was cowardly hiding from his eyes. But "cowardly" was not the right way to describe the intentions of it.

Soft laughter came from the corner. Kyle felt like he'd been looking at himself in the mirror for too long, and he'd been imagining all sorts of things—he had read about it. Your eyesight begins to create illusions, but usually there have only been cases of people's facial features being distorted.

But in the evening, alone, you can see anything.

"Again? Have we met before?"

Kyle chuckled, annoyed, trying to hide the fear in his voice. He didn't dare to turn around.

"Go away."

"Aren’t you even curious who I am?"

Like a capricious child, the stranger did not hide the feigned resentment in his voice. A voice  that eerily reminded Kyle of his own; quiet, insinuating, melodic. Only now that voice was clearly expressing resentment, something that didn’t feel familiar to Kyle.

"Not really. I'm not expecting guests."

"Aren't you lonely here?"

Kyle shook his head.

"How did you get here in the first place? The door is locked, I would hear."

A ravenous smile cut through his voice.

"Maybe your hearing isn't as perfect as you think? Have you considered it?"

Kyle didn't feel any danger from the unknown. He didn't feel anything, honestly, only his heart pounding loudly in his ears and knees shaking. Is he going to be killed, or is it a dream, or has he overthought himself up again to the point where he starts seeing people? Maybe this time, loneliness joined the anxiety and fears - and decided to incarnate into a full-fledged person? Although he could not say with a complete certainty that it was a man, he did not dare to turn around, and in the mirror, he saw only a hint of a silhouette.

Exactly, he must have just intimidated himself too much again. Now loneliness appears to him in vivid images - only this time it was too vivid.

Kyle exhaled slowly, trying to catch his breath, giving himself a calm that no one is here. Perhaps it could help ward off the glamour.

"You don't even exist. It's just my fears. I'm lonely, so that’s why I see you. That's it."

The cold, uncanny laughter grew louder. Kyle shivered.

"Oh, do you even believe it yourself? If you realize that I am only a fear, why don't you turn around and chase me away with your pleasant memories?"

To be honest, Kyle wasn't in the mood at all for reminiscing about pleasant things right now, even if he was trying his best.

Kyle sighs uneasily. A burden of thoughts suffocates him, as he tries to speak - swallowing the words out of his mouth. They are a bitter aftertaste on his lips, as he stutters.

The shadow smiles.

"Go away."

"But I'm lonely," whispered the shadow plaintively. "I thought you were lonely here too?"

Surprisingly, the voice sounded sincere. Kyle froze for a moment, but he couldn't find the strength to turn and face the silhouette.

"Is this some kind of joke? I told you I wasn't waiting for anyone. I don't even know you, go away."

"You know."

Kyle's thoughts raced from one option to another, from a bad joke to the hallucinations he drove himself to with the number of thoughts his exhausted mind generated. He was almost ready to believe that someone had broken into his apartment, so misleading was the voice.

"Even if I know," Kyle's voice trembled. "I beg you, go away."

He turned slowly, in the vain hope of making the stranger disappear. In the end, Kyle wasn't surprised by what he saw in the corner of the room: a small silhouette, very real, just keeping at a distance. The only thing that confused him was the white mask on the stranger's face, distorted in a crooked smile. But that must have led Kyle to think it was a joke.

The figure in the corner didn't even move.

"Aren't you at all confused by what you see in front of you?"

Kyle didn't answer.

The silence lasted for a few minutes: Kyle didn't count, but he didn't want to speak. At some point, it seemed to him that remain silent was the best way out of this situation. He did not dare to scream or cry for help. And the conversation didn't work out on its own.

But to be honest, all this was starting to bother him.

"You may wonder why you saw me in the reflection and not anywhere else," the stranger decided to break the silence that lasted an eternity to Kyle.

"Oh Lord."

The only thing Kyle could express. He felt his body tremble, his knees buckle treacherously, his voice betraying – excitement was mixed with irritation. Whether it was a bad joke – either way, this was not the right time to joke; or hallucinations, Kyle was tired of that. It didn't make any sense - everything that was happening now, and even all those metaphorical images that Kyle had given to his dark thoughts. Whatever it was, standing in the corner of the bathroom, confused Kyle. And these unequivocal conversations were beginning to exhaust.

"Go away."

The grin seemed to be visible even under the mask.

Kyle moved slowly on wadded legs, heading toward the stranger.

"Have you recognized me?"

"I said!.."

Before he could finish the sentence, Kyle jerked the mask off the stranger's face, not knowing what he was expecting of it. Before the human shadow dissipates in front of his eyes with a satisfied grin as if it had never been there, Kyle freezes, and forgets to breath for a second.

Discouraged by the piercing gaze of

his

own

eyes

under the mask.