I really need this checked over for any mistakes or
if anyone has suggestions of what i could add, (she’s meant to be a schizophrenic escaping from herself)
She couldn’t move, transfixed, as if she was chained by some invisible captor. She was completely enchanted by her mirrored reflection, which stared back at her with a plain expression; a dead expression. She hadn’t seen herself since it happened, since she gave in. Her pearl like eyes with an almost black, shadowy colour ceased to blink, afraid the memories would return that broke her entirely.
The curtains hung by a few nails that had been hammered in pathetically, making the curtains uneven and edgy-looking; darkness and a full moon lay behind the curtains, but no matter how bright the moon tried to shine no light could ever seep through. The dark is a place where nightmares live.
The yellow, lemon-scented candle was positioned in the bottom right corner in the room, with its small flame burning brightly. The wax melted and slowly dribbled down the sides of the lit candle. The flame burned the wick away and as the candle began to shrink, the raging flame began to die down and flicker, but it still provided enough light to see what remained of her, the remains that hadn’t been snatched away by the strings of guilt.
The room’s old wooden floor boards creaked with every shiver that came from her body. They were originally chestnut brown, but had turned a dirty red, soaking in blood that wasn’t hers. How long had she been standing there? No clock could count the feeling of an eternity.
She could have been a scarecrow made out of thin straw and tightening brown rope. The innocence that once shone through the brilliance of her eyes had been drained away and all that was left was a rotting soul filled with forbidden thoughts. The bloody, broken door was slightly ajar as if it was speaking to her, whispering, telling her that there was still time to escape this hideous place. She ignored it.
She had learnt from her mistakes, she wouldn’t listen to them anymore. Blood trickled down the patterned wallpaper as if it were a painful reminder of the sickening past. The only object in this seemingly torturous, claustrophobic room was the mirror, resting against the wall as if it was mocking her. It seemed like the mirror was almost haunted with grief and misunderstanding, yet she still stood there, watching it, staring.
Death seemed to have his cold grip over her. Irregular breaths rattled through her, as if she was being asphyxiated. Her charcoal hair was draped over her shoulders, blood dripping from the tips. Her appearance resembled that of a butcher; blood splattered across her clothes. It was infecting the room and spreading like a deadly virus, inflicted onto a peaceful creature to create a universe of mental anguish and misery.
The poignant stench of the drains struck her nostrils; tasting her vomit, she swallowed. The smell was emanating from outside, let in by a cracked window that was nailed shut to prevent anyone getting in, or out.
She could only hear the faint hooting of a barn owl; her ears had been nearly deafened by the screams that came from her past. Her withered heart beats within her fragile chest.
She was shaking now, convulsing; her hands emerged from the ripped pockets in what remained of her tight fitting jeans. She smiled bitterly, a smile of revenge and pain. Still standing in the same position as before, still looking at her reflection.
What had become of her? Who was she really? Why she was there? It was like she couldn’t comprehend anything except a faint realisation of what she had become. What she couldn’t run from. The questions spiralled around in her head like a catastrophic hurricane of worry and sorrow. More and more questions rose from the depths of her inner mind, like it came from the crack of a heinous earthquake, spreading damage and destruction to those who got caught in its path of betrayal and loathing, just like it had done to her, until she felt nothing. Not able to understand, she couldn’t take it any more. The questions piled up to the point that it erupted like a volcano.
She thought for a moment, pondering the feeling of release. Yearning for an escape, the voices, nothing and no one could help her now. It was her last chance, her last moments, spent in absolute bliss. All she felt was the unruffled peace flowing through her. She drew one last deep breath.
With one thunderous blow she struck the malevolent mirror with her shaking, bloody fist. The mirror shattered into a million pieces and then it was over. She had known this would happen, from the beginning, she knew. Her heart too had split and shattered into a million pieces, and she lay there with the shards of broken glass protruding from all angles floating on a lake of blood. Her lapse of sanity had finally crumbled.
She was dead. Broken. Still.
This open post was written 1 month, 3 weeks ago | V/U/S: 63, 3, 2 | Edit Post | Leave a reply | Report Post
Reciprocity (0) 
Since writing this post blahb4523la may have helped people, but has not within the last 4 days. blahb4523la is not a verified member, has been around for 1 month, 3 weeks and has 1 posts and 0 replies to their name.
Replies (3)
Where were you?
You can also watch events on Help.com as they happen
Anonymous
Invite Others to Help
A logged in and verified Help.com member has the ability to setup a Friends List and invite others to help with posts.