The Looking Glass

Everything froze. All I heard was an odd rushing sound in my ears, as my feet carried me frantically in the house, up the stairs, to my bedroom door. I grasped the handle without thinking, like I was on autopilot, too emotionally frantic about seeing him, again... But I stopped. The doorknob was half turned, waiting for the extra twist, and shove. I was waiting for it, too.

In my head, I was reminded of a scene just a week ago.. Of me, in hospital bed, looking at my mom's disappointed face. She'd been crying nonstop since Dad left, and one day, I came home from school, walked into my room, and I saw Dad, in the mirror, replacing my reflection with his own. He smiled sadly at me. I rushed forward and reached for him, but my fingers hit the glass and broke it with the force. I hadn't meant to punch it, I was just trying to hold my father again, as if nothing had happened in the previous week. As if he were really home, there was no mirror, and I could touch him. But he wasn't there. I was imagining it, the doctors told me. I know what I saw, but they said it was perfectly understandable for me to see him. Present day, I looked down at my hand, wrapped around the knob. Still scratched and scabbed. Reminding me, that no matter what I thought I saw, it could be all in my head.

I propped my forehead up to the door, as if the weight of it were too much. The weight of my crazy. Please be real, I thought. Please... Please, be back, Dad.

I called out once more, voice ragged with sorrow. "Dad?" The door creaked loudly as I finally turned the handle further and slowly nudged it open with trembling fingertips. My eyes closed before I could see the room. I was afraid. Afraid that he wasn't there, afraid that he's just in my head. Afraid that he was there, that he broke mine and Mom's heart for two weeks, deserted us. I didn't know which outcome was more terrifying. The door bumped against the wall, completely open. I clenched my fists at my sides and opened my eyes to the floor. Agonizingly slow, I raised them to the window.

My knees connected with the floor as I crumpled in on myself, my heart breaking all over again. Agonizing sobs ripped themselves from my chest, sounding like a dying animal. Or a dying daughter, I wasn't sure which. Once I could see through the tears, I shuddered as I looked back up at the window, my dad's face looking down at me with the same, deep, crushing pain in his eyes. He placed his translucent hand on the window and I closed my eyes, again, trying to block him, the tears, the crazy, the world, block everything out. I gripped the sides of my head with my hands and cried, rocking forward and back on my knees, because sitting still was worse than anything. I opened my eyes once more, baring myself to the pain, again. If not to see him, to feel the ache, to know that he's still alive in my heart, even if just out of reach.

But the window was bare, and all I saw was clouds.

My feet were just as they were when I was flying to my room, acting on there own. If they weren't, I wouldn't have been able to tell them anything, anyway. My mind was numb, in shock. I cried without expression, without sound, without thinking. Silent, pouring tears that refused to stop, kept my eyes raw and open. My shoes crunched on leaves as I walked blindly. Nothing registered to me, no colors or sounds, there was nothing outside, except the crazy in my head. I walked into the forest without any thought to it, the darkness swallowing me, helping equalize my inner despair. I don't know for how long I walked, but eventually, the tears stopped flowing as I blocked every thought out. When I no longer felt as though if I stopped, I'd have a breakdown right then, I leaned against a tree, and slid down until I was resting my head on my knees.

Everything was different now. At first, I knew that I was just grieving, and the doctors told me how to handle it, try to think of him as gone, as much as possible. Mourn his passing instead of trying to hold on. But how could I do that when I knew, deep within my being, through every fiber of myself, that he was alive? When I knew that at any moment in time, he'd show up, or someone would find him alive, or something would happen, I'd get some sort of sign that he was still out there, trying to get back to us. Fighting for us, like he always had.

But now... I'm producing his image unwittingly. I can't even try to comprehend the overwhelming hope I had when I expected him to be there, waiting. And then the utter disappointment, I felt as though my soul was bruised, not even mentioning how much my heart and head hurt.

A rustle of leaves crinkled behind me and I jolted up, snapping out of my head to listen. When nothing else happened, I relaxed slightly, and decided it was all right to go back home.

Looking around myself, I only saw deep greens to blacks. No sunlight. How long had I been walking? I swallowed nervously and continued looking around myself. If I hadn't been so involved in my own thoughts, I might have remembered which way I turned when I went to lean on the tree. I spun around, trying to decide which direction looked the least harmless, and couldn't find one. I was surrounded by darkness, and I had no idea where to go. I patted my pockets hurriedly, then remember with a smack to my forehead, that I'd left it in my backpack, on silent. I let out a few unnameable curses, and picked a random direction, setting off. Probably the most stupid decision I could have made, since the town was mostly forest, anyway, but hopefully I'd get lucky. As I felt the fear creep its way into my thoughts, things kept getting colder and colder. I clutched my arms in tighter, wishing I was still wearing my hoodie, though I'd wadded it up to lean on on the bus, dropping it in a heap next to my bag. Which were both still on the front porch, unless Mom had already gotten home and brought them inside. She was probably worried senseless by now, depending on how long I had actually been gone.

My toe caught on something and I stumbled forward, looking back to see a root, growing out, and diving back into the ground, at least a foot's worth of exposed root. When I looked forward, I screamed in my most girly shriek, ever. I was so startled that I backpedaled and tripped on the same root, this time, taking me to the ground.

"Robbie?!" I shouted, holding my heart as if to physically still its pounding. His face must have been mere centimeters from mine when I turned back around. Add that to the darkness of the woods, and he looked like a ghost, standing there solid right in front of me. Guiltily, I snuffed out the thought that I might be seeing things, again. It could be true.

"What are you doing here?" he stepped forward and grabbed my arm, pulling me up. Looking around as if to see if anyone was watching, he looked back at me. I was stunned, to the point of my mouth moving like I was trying to speak, but nothing came out. He began walking in the opposite direction of where I was headed, and didn't let go of my arm. It hurt a little when he pulled me up, but his grip loosened when we started walking.

After a few moments, I was finally able to regain the ability to speak. "What's--"

"Shh!" he silenced me harshly, and I swallowed the resentment that built in my chest. Only then did I realize what Robbie was wearing. And what he WASN'T wearing. He was shirtless, with tattered green shorts on. They looked frilly, as if they had big fringe on them, but as we kept going, I could see that they were leaves.. His shorts were made out of leaves. And as if that wasn't weird enough, he had odd writings written on him in dark brown, what looked like mud. On top of that, he wasn't wearing his glasses, either.

I wanted nothing more than to laugh at him, and ask where the Halloween party was at, because he looked like a ritualistic Adam. Where's his Eve? I giggled internally, and squelched it. I sounded nutso in my head more and more by the second. We walked deeper and deeper into the forest and the farther we walked, the more sound I heard other than our crunching feet on the woodland floor. Well, more like my feet, his were bare and all but silent compared to my blundering about. The sounds came from not far ahead, and here and there, it looked like some slivers of light were bleeding through the dark trees. People talking, laughter, I knew what it was before we got there.

We neared the edge of the clearing, and he stopped, still holding my upper arm. I stopped, too, but not before he had to tug me back by his hold. I felt like a dog on a leash, and opened my mouth to tell him to let go, now, but he motioned for me to quiet. I fumed, but clamped my lips shut. With how weird the rest of this town was, if he told me not to talk, there had to be a reason why.

He leaned in and whispered into my ear, his breath hot against my cold earlobe. I shivered. "You have no idea what kind of trouble you were about to be in, and how lucky you are that I'm the one who found you. I don't care what you think you see, don't come wandering back into these woods, or you're going to wish you weren't alive. Do you understand me?" His voice was a rock compared to the joking ton he'd used in first period earlier. I felt my blood run cold at 'what you think you see.' Did he know? I swallowed thickly, and nodded numbly.

"I didn't--"

"Hush." he said, his voice still hard. I felt my bottom lip quiver and I looked down, gritting my teeth so hard my ears popped. I would not cry in front of him, I don't care what happens. "We are about a mile from the trail through the woods. It's hard to find, but I can't walk you there. Someone will walk there in a bit. Don't make eye contact. Don't speak to anyone. Try not to think too loudly. Float under the radar. If you don't listen to me, they'll every one turn on you. Can you do this, Mary?" I was so confused, now. What was going on here, that I didn't know about? I thought it was just a party in the woods with normal teenagers.

"These aren't your regular every day teens, if you haven't noticed. We don't have much more time, go. I'll see you in school tomorrow." Robbie let go of my arm and nudged me into the clearing, his eyes hard to see in the dim light, but I could have sworn he looked worried. What was I walking in to?

I took more steps, about ten feet from the clearing. I could see teens laughing, holding cups. There were so many kids, there must have been a hundred or more. The clearing itself was about twenty yards wide, and even farther away on the other side from where I entered.

As I kept walking, I stayed to the outside of the clearing, looking at them. About six feet apart, on every tree, was a torch. There was also a bonfire in the very middle, not too tall, but bright enough to light up what the torches didn't. Just like as if they were at school, there were cliques everywhere. I guess 'clique' wouldn't be the right word, since there wasn't a whole group with the everyone similar, but you could tell that each group stood out from each other, more for body than clothing, it seemed. And facial features. It was weird, but I tried not to think on it too hard.

They seemed so normal, now, not anything like the vicious monsters they were on the bus. As I thought about that, I saw the black-haired girl across the glade, looking into her cup, pensive, as if it held all the answers. She was leaning against a table, running her converse sole idly across the grass. I kept walking and looking, wondering if she was an outsider like me. No one was talking to her, she was the only one alone. Robbie said not to talk to anyone, but she wasn't like the others, she seemed like she was trying to say something to help when she was on the bus. I couldn't shake the haunting image of her eyes as they pored into mine through the dusty bus window, her pale face a mask of many emotions. Sadness, fear, compassion. She was a friend, I could tell. So why not try to talk to her?

I stopped walking, and took one step towards her and her eyes flashed up straight into mine, not anywhere close to the color of chocolate. They glinted silver in the firelight. Air whistled between my teeth as I gasped with my jaw clenched. She slowly parted her lips in a smile and mouthed a word, the same one she has mouthed earlier, but slower, and more decisively.

"Hungry..." she mouthed, and at the same moment she grinned fully, I saw them, shimmering peraly white in the yellow light. She had fangs.

Long, at least half an inch long, on her upper incisors.

"What the..." I whispered aloud, taking a step back. As I did, a twig snapped loudly under the sole of my shoe.

Everything went silent, and again, as if they were all marionettes, every single head snapped towards me. I could have fainted right there.

Every single one of them had silver eyes.

Silver eyes screaming the word the black-haired girl had mouthed just seconds before.

"Hungry."