Status: Complete =)
Visions
one of one
She smiles and waves at her fluid reflection, and watches as the pink-haired girl returns the gesture, her visual fingers dancing in the same way her own real ones did.
In her twenty-three years, she should have really got used to this phenomenon, yet still it stunned her to gaze upon her own face.
She fixed her eyes upon her own, and watched as they changed their colour from an experimental brown back to a starlight shade of blue-violet. But while she remains the same, the mirror begins to change.
Firstly, the background starts to spin, moving like the pictures in those old muggle movies her father used to drag her to as she grew up. Then she begins to move as well, gliding backwards into the scene of a musty, dust-showered basement in which she shouts at another man. No sound escapes, only silent pictures.
The picture shift again, and she now sees herself, still shouting at the same man, but in a lighter, brighter room, lit by dancing moonlight through high windows. They’re not alone this time, instead surrounded by a whole crowd of people, all of whom she knew, all forming a crowd of spectators to their interesting attraction.
She’s with the man yet again in her next image. Not arguing; instead they’re entwined together by a lake, the sunlight reflected like diamond facets onto her back, his hand running through her hair, hers tracing the curve of his spine. One of the most exquisite sights she had ever seen in her life.
But she didn’t know this man. Who was he? How did he know her? Why were they arguing and now kissing? What was this she was seeing? A vision? An image? A prophecy?
A new scene: a girl and a boy, together in each others arms, she being held above the ground and an ivory dress falling out behind her as he spun her round. And they laughed.
More arguments, silent shouts, tears pouring down deathly pale cheeks, a swollen stomach…
“Stop it! Stop it!” she yells at her reflection, her throat constricted with fear and disorientation.
Still new images, an embrace, an absent scream, a turquoise-haired child, a frozen body…
A trembling girl curls up on the floor of her mother’s bedroom, rocking herself backwards and forwards in time to broken sobs, before finding herself in her mother’s controlled, comforting, truly real embrace.
In her twenty-three years, she should have really got used to this phenomenon, yet still it stunned her to gaze upon her own face.
She fixed her eyes upon her own, and watched as they changed their colour from an experimental brown back to a starlight shade of blue-violet. But while she remains the same, the mirror begins to change.
Firstly, the background starts to spin, moving like the pictures in those old muggle movies her father used to drag her to as she grew up. Then she begins to move as well, gliding backwards into the scene of a musty, dust-showered basement in which she shouts at another man. No sound escapes, only silent pictures.
The picture shift again, and she now sees herself, still shouting at the same man, but in a lighter, brighter room, lit by dancing moonlight through high windows. They’re not alone this time, instead surrounded by a whole crowd of people, all of whom she knew, all forming a crowd of spectators to their interesting attraction.
She’s with the man yet again in her next image. Not arguing; instead they’re entwined together by a lake, the sunlight reflected like diamond facets onto her back, his hand running through her hair, hers tracing the curve of his spine. One of the most exquisite sights she had ever seen in her life.
But she didn’t know this man. Who was he? How did he know her? Why were they arguing and now kissing? What was this she was seeing? A vision? An image? A prophecy?
A new scene: a girl and a boy, together in each others arms, she being held above the ground and an ivory dress falling out behind her as he spun her round. And they laughed.
More arguments, silent shouts, tears pouring down deathly pale cheeks, a swollen stomach…
“Stop it! Stop it!” she yells at her reflection, her throat constricted with fear and disorientation.
Still new images, an embrace, an absent scream, a turquoise-haired child, a frozen body…
A trembling girl curls up on the floor of her mother’s bedroom, rocking herself backwards and forwards in time to broken sobs, before finding herself in her mother’s controlled, comforting, truly real embrace.