Painting Glass

His voice haunts me in my dreams and follows me in my waking hours.

His voice haunts me in my dreams and follows me in my waking hours. Every object I touch sends pain through my body. There is nowhere I can rest. Nowhere is safe. Not even in my head. If only I could find sanctuary. I could find respite outside of my consciousness.

Tomorrow I move houses. It will hopefully be something I can look forward to.
The front hall is full of mirrors. Here I can see glimpses of his face. If only I could be free.

The diagnosis was psychosis which I struggled to grasp at the beginning.
It was a long way to recovery.

The hours tick by and the face of the clock became blurred.

Being so sensitive makes moving around a dangerous game.

There is no respite for me. Hopefully the new house proves less torturous.

“I’m going to make stronger, to face life’s tests” said my reflection.

“But why?” I asked my reflection.

“Because you have a heart of Gold.” was the response

I kept repeating what my reflection had told me. My reflection could now respond to me which was weird.

“Help me” I asked my reflection. It ignored me this time
“I need your guidance”
“Please, I am desperate!”
It was now ignoring me

“I’m going to make you stronger, to face life’s tests.” said my reflection in the mirror.
“But why?” I asked my reflection.
“I can’t stand this. When will it end?”
“You are stuck with me for eternity. You will never be alone.”

“How kind of you. I guess I’ll have to get used to talking to myself.”
“How long is eternity?”
My reflection began to flicker for a few seconds

“I don’t know. Stop asking me questions.” It responded.

“What is irony?” I asked
“You are going to have to figure that out by yourself.”
“I didn’t ask to be born.” I replied in protest.
“No one did. You are a human being not a doormat.” said my reflection.

My image suddenly became frozen. The sides of the mirror began to produce black smoke. A man’s image rose up to take over my own reflection.

He kept following me in my dreams. Always so close yet I could not grasp my consciousness when he appeared. I could not escape him. He was able to penetrate my every thought.

Author: ArianaRose

I’m hoping to become a writer, playwright & novelist. I'm also considering becoming a Historian or librarian at this stage in life. I'm looking for opportunities in performance writing and publishing short stories in literary magazines.

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