A Look Into The Mirror

 Sequel to 'A Night'

It had to be a dream. Not because the pain felt too intense to describe, the tears fell too much to dry, nor the sun never seemed to come up, but rather because it was all just too depressing. In the span of what seemed like hours but may have only been minutes, Kyle was walking down a hallway straight out of hell itself. Consistently and without missing a beat there were pictures frames lined up perfectly every two feet or so. In these frames were everything he was ashamed of, from breakups to breakdowns. All of this was on display for the world, and more importantly Kyle, to see.

It was hard to remember how he got here, but everything else he remembered perfectly. The pain of loss and the sting of remorse were as familiar as the clothes he was currently sweating in, but he could not trace his steps back. Did he kill himself? Maybe, if the pictures on the wall are any indication, he could be pretty reckless. Still this didn't seem like death, a bit dreary yes, but not the nothing he was expecting after he died. Another unspecified amount of time passed and the hallway just kept going. After forever had come and gone he stopped in his tracks and stared in horror at a particular picture that had caught his eye. It was him, much like the other pictures, but in this one he was huddled in the corner of his room just crying to himself. He remembered.

So much loss.

He had never had to deal with losing family before, all his life things had just fallen into place and stayed there. It was no paradise, but he felt like he had a support system if anything. Then one phone call later it all crashed down. His mother was destroyed, his father speechless, and he himself was thrown into a constant state of shock because without that he may have jumped out a window. Was the Kyle walking now the same Kyle that was in that corner crying? Could it be he was still there just trying to make sense of it all? Time had passed but there was no way to tell how much, all he could do was keep walking. Walk through the pain, walk through the memories, and keep walking until he hit something that wasn't just the wall that her death put around his mind.

Deeper still into the abyss his journeys brought him to another picture. This was him and a girl. He knew the girl, and cared for her, but in the end could not make her happy. He tried to blame it on the loss, blame it on the girl, blame it on anyone but himself because he knew how much he had ruined it. He could not help it for he was a dreamer, building fantasy was is life, and to admit it was anything but would crush him. Yet it crushed her...and them, while he still go to hold onto his sense of self like it wasn't his fault. He remembered. She tried to give him space because he was suffering a loss, but he filled that space with resent toward the both of them. He threatened to pull the trigger on himself, told her he needed him, and she left. Another picture showed his empty apartment. It was quiet like his mind never was and only told the truth, much like he hadn't.

And then the hallway ended. His trip brought him to a mirror. With the pictures still crying behind him Kyle figured the best thing to do was step forward, it seemed to work for him thus far. Then in the mirror he saw a figure start to shift. The lights that he didn't even notice were lit in the hallway went out and he was forced to focus on nothing on this creature now fully visible in the mirror. It was wearing a straitjacket, with chains attached to the limbs that connected to a stone wall behind it. The jacket was clean, spotless even, like someone had always come to make sure this being was cared for. It mumbled in a way that Kyle could not decipher, yet it was familiar. Then the creature raised its head and Kyle almost threw up at the site of it.

It was him.

Well...almost him. It had tiny yet pronounced horns and what appeared to be fangs in the mouth that spoke coherent mumbles. It was wearing a blindfold, yet tears were streaming down its cheeks. The thing was a monster, and Kyle hated every moment he was it its presence, yet he could not look away. It was locked behind this mirror in this word Kyle did not understand, but he still pitied it. He held out his hand, for whatever reason, to try and touch the mirror. As his fingers just began to touch what should have been glass, the being spoke.

“Worthless,” it said.

“W-what?” Kyle was in shock, despite him thinking the mumbles were familiar, he never thought it could speak to him.

“We...are....worthless.”

“I don't understand, what are you?!” Kyle's voice rose and fear was slowing sinking into him.

“We am you, you am we. We are nothing.”

“I can't be you, that doesn't make sense. Why are you here, why are you locked up? Answer me!”

The creature rose to its feet slowly, like it's body was broken, before answering. Kyle knew what it was going to say though, he could feel the the creature was connected to him somehow, and its pain was his pain.

“We are here because we want it.”

“No...why would I want to be here?”

“The world wants we here, we do what makes them happy. We know we are worthless so this is the safest place. We are safe here.”

Just then Kyle understood and dropped to his knees in a panic. This was him, no different from the him currently on his knees.

“Did I...make you?” Kyle asked, his brain felt like it was bleeding.

“We made us, we have always been.”

Kyle stumbled forward, through the glass that wasn't there, and into the domain of the mirror. Face to face with the thing now he could not break eye contact. Upon closer inspection he saw that on the straitjacket were names written. Names of people he had hurt, let down, or distanced himself from for their own good. They faded in and out of visibility, but never completely gone. The chains attaching the being to the wall were actually being held by the being itself. If it wanted to let go and free itself it could. The being looked at Kyle, and despite it's blindness could tell exactly where to focus its gaze.

“We hate us, we are worthless, we will never know love.” The being seemed sad now, genuine sadness hidden by its devilish appearance.

“No, I don't hate you...I never have. I am sorry.” Kyle hugged the creature. And it screamed.

“WE ARE WORTHLESS, WE HATE US, WE WILL NEVER KNOW LOVE!!”

Its fangs dug deep into Kyle's neck, and at the moment where death should have found him he woke up. He was in his empty, honest room. It was still and he had been sweating. He sat up in silence for a long time, long enough that he could replay the night's events in his mind again over and over. Each time things became more and more vivid until it seemed like the creature would burst out of his mind again. He got up and walked over to his desk. He saw on a notepad next to his computer was a message. It read, “Worthless, Unloved, Alone” over and over again until the ink started to fade at the bottom of the page. Disgusted he ripped the page up and threw it away. He no longer believed what the message said, which did not mean it wasn't true, but he no longer believed it. On that same desk was a charm that the girl had gotten him on a trip she took. It was a keychain, the only souvenir he would accept. The charm was handmade, and meant something like good fortune or love. Neither of which he considered himself to have a lot of. Still, it was there, and that meant something. He got up to go to his bathroom and after about 10 mins of fear, turned on the light to face his mirror. It was him. No blindfold or horns though, just bags under his eyes and messy hair. He stared deeply at himself. There is no we, there was him. Just then he had an idea. He ran to his nightstand to get something he knew was there, a lipstick tube. She had left it, so saddened by his actions that it was not important. He went back to his bathroom and started writing. His hand was guided by a force that reminded him of his grandmother, no nonsense and supportive. He stepped back, gasping and looked at what he wrote. “I am not worthless, my past will not define me, I will forgive myself and more importantly, love myself”. It would become his mantra, it would break his chains, and it would silence the being from speaking its truth.

In that moment he was his own biggest fan.