Mirror, Mirror... I trusted you.

Staring at the mirror hanging in her bedroom the girl allowed a soft sigh to spill forth from the depths of her diaphragm and escape forth into the cool air which wafted in from her open window. The fancy ornate scrying glass was a decoration of Victorian luxury gifted to her by a person so near to her heart she could near feel the palpation of his heart when she neared what was meant to be her reflection.  

With him here they used to stand before the floor length pool and admire how perfectly they fit together. How well their bodies entangled as though gossamer threads held them intertwined like ethereal tendrils which reach from his heart to her own. Standing here she could feel the heat of his arms as they wrapped around the top of her own, the way her back molded along the hardness of his chest, and the soft rise and fall of such a chest as he inhaled their mixed pheromones which danced together so perfectly.  Now she stood alone, her own arms twining her torso as though the cross of appendages before her chest strove to keep the beating heart within the cavity it belonged. The ache though, it was so deep that each resonate rhythm the visceral muscle made seemed a cadence to the ragged breaths that tore through her lungs. 

She had been calm, had fought herself to keep the sorrow locked away, but at the sight that shifted, an image which seemed to create a mirage in the mirror, her sadness could remain boxed no longer. The reflection of her own being shimmered in view breaking way to the visage of her love, the being who shared her own soul, standing before her looking lost.  

This otherworldly reflection was something a movie might create perhaps c-class horror film about someone who got stuck behind glass, but this was no movie being created within the sanctuary of the room they once shared. His countenance was gaunt as though he hadn’t slept in days. Dark circles dripped below his once brilliant gaze, a gaze that reminded her of fresh honey when the radiance of the sun dared offer a glimpse of light upon them. His tawny flesh seemed pallid in comparison making dusky lips seem pale as if death himself had tasted such petals. The most notable thing, however, was the disconsolate expression which stretched over his presence, a dark shroud of melancholy as though their very hearts still beat as one.  

When he reach for her and was halted by the glass, she nearly fell backward. The extension of his arm making it seem as though he merely longed to hold her, to feel her, but the barrier between them wouldn’t allow such. She couldn’t believe he would have bought her something so saturnine. This treasure, this gift which they both loved, was showing her the very thing which she would never have again. There was no explanation as to why his very withered effigy stood looking so somber, no reason as to why his being was trapped within the scrying mirror, no antecedent which led to this moment aside that he wished to torture her.  

The very thought of such cruelty seemed far from the man that he had been though, he knew her well enough that he should know what his visage would do to her. He knew her, both inside and out, and for him to show his face in the most crestfallen of times, infuriated her. 

Lifting her head the girl rolled her shoulders back, straightening them. Her chin rose so tear-streaked facet settled such sights upon the mirror before her which surely played tricks. “I trusted you...” The words were but a soft mumble from her crimson stained pout, the sound not nearly audible enough to capture the ears of the faux creature on the opposing side of the glass.  

“You promised to never leave my side, and I trusted you!” Louder now the girl nearly screamed letting every heartfelt emotion flood into the cavity of her chest and tear outward in the formation of bitterness. “Now look at us, you’re gone and here I am, discarded and forsaken as though you were meant for death all alone. Was the reaper more promising than I? More tempting? Did I not love you enough for you to stay? Was my heart not pure enough, my words not true enough?” 

Her breaths were frenetic, her words besmirched with mournful chaos. Even the softness of her pools seemed kissed by wrath as she gripped at her very heart while pointing her free finger towards his façade. “I never thought in this life or the next that you would disappear from me, that I would need to face this world without you. I lived for you every single day, I fought myself to be at your side, now what do I do?” 

Dropping her hand, she looked upward towards the image of her lover within the reflective surface, hating the way his features matched every memory of him she had. Now though, he was smiling, the sorrow faded, and those cupid bow lips curled into the most satisfying grin as though he wanted her angry. Fine... he wanted her mad, she’d give it to him. 

Turning as though a madman had overtaken her body the girl rushed to her bedside grasping the sculpture that they had bought in Spain. It was an eccentric piece, one which he had love and she abhorred, a piece of art that screamed poverty and sexualization. A woman twined in snakes was what was held within shaky hands, hands whose white knuckles ached as she fought hard to hold the art within them. Her stride was quick now as she rushed forward towards the mirror slamming the rounded base of the sculpture into the glass sending shards flying before the shattering caused pieces of the looking glass to scatter about her feet.  

Glancing downward her heart lurched which the broken shards reflected his very image as though he were a puzzle piece that she was meant to mold together making her heart twinge that much more as words fell in soft elegiacal lament from her lips. “You left me... You promised you’d always be here for me... I trusted you, and now I’m alone.”