Mirrors

The hardest part of the story is the beginning. You never know how to start, so you tend to start in the middle. Our middle starts with a large circular room with a domed ceiling. The walls are smooth, and the ceiling is too high to climb to. Its all black except for the moonlight that shines in from a large hole in the ceiling. The light from this hole reaches hundreds of mirrors, scattered along the walls, and these refract the light, illuminating the room slightly. Each and every one of these mirrors are different from another, much like people. None of them similar to another. The only furniture in the room was a chest of drawers, and a large four post bed, with thick blankets that almost seemed lonely, for no one had slept there in over 15 years. There was no door in this room, only the nearly noticeable lines in the wall where the entrance had once been, now sealed up with cement. The only entrance in this room was the hole in the ceiling. Although the room seemed lonely, someone often visited this room. Never to stay, just to add more mirrors

Not to far away from this place, a girl sat nearby. She sat on a cliff beneath a tree, looking out over the valley below her. She shivered as the cold wind blew her hair back behind her, as if it could slice right through her. She clutched a gun at her side, feeling its cold metal in her hands. In the valley that she sat above, were the remains of a city that once had been her home. All that remained of this place was the metal skeletons of the skyscrapers, and rubble. Only the blurry memories she had told her of what it used to be. As wind blew through the ruins, the metal frames creaked, as if moaning a sad, tragic, tale of destruction. The wind picked up, causing the city to howl its sorrows even more. She pulled my knees up against her chest, wrapped her arms around them and rested my chin on them, burying her nose in the cress that formed. She tried to remember what it was like; but all that remained in her mind was mass panic. She remembered masses of people rushing the city gates that was supposed to keep them safe, to try to escape the horror that threatened them all. She remembered not being able to escape. She remember her mother holding her, crying and begging to someone. Begging for her survival. To who she was begging to, was the fact that she wanted to remember most. Who was it that took a little girl away from the masses, so that she could live on? She couldn't remember. I took out the gun and held it up in front of her, to see it glisten in the moonlight. I held the pistol to the side of my head, memorizing the feel of the barrel, pressing into my skin. This was the feel that could take all her pain and memories away. This feel could end it all for her, allow her to rest. I sighed and pulled it away. She couldn't do it. Her mother gave her life for her to live on. She wouldn't take her life away like that. She laid the pistol on the ground in front of her, and watched it. She kicked it and watched it slid over the edge of the cliff, and fall to the bottom of the valley. She stood, not wanting to sulk anymore, and walked away from the cliff. She looked down at the dead grass. Everything was dead now. There were a few people here and there who had escaped the horror, but they had all become paranoid, locking themselves away from the world. Those who weren't locked away performed like a military, hoping to rebuild the world. They were the ones who had guns, food, shelter, they were the only ones who could even slightly compare to the horror that had ravaged the now dead city.

Her thoughts stopped when she heard a noise, something like that sound of breathe being caught. She looked up to see a young man, looking at her with wide eyes. She froze, unsure whether this person was one of those who hoped to rebuild the world, or one of those who destroy it. His hair was long, but freshly cut, blonde locks hung around his shoulders. She took a step backwards, contemplating fleeing, when he spoke.
"I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was calming, and he held his hands up where she could see them easily. "I just want to ask you some questions." She was nervous being so close to another human, and she struggled to remember how to speak. She hadn't needed actual words in so long.
"Who are you?" She spoke softly. He took a step closer, and she took a step back, determined to keep him away from her.
"My name is Garret. Whats your name?" he asked her. She hesitated, trying to remember whether her mother had given her a name or not. She couldn't remember.
"I don't know. I can't remember it." He looked slightly taken back at her answer, and asked, "Are you alone here?" She didn't want to answer his questions anymore. She took a step backwards and then another. He walked towards her, no longer respecting her wishes to maintain distance.
"Wait," he said, "Don't leave!" She turned to run, when her breathe caught in her throat. Another being in all black stood behind her, but this one was different. Much different.
"RUN!" Garret yelled to her, "RUN NOW!" Before she could move, the black figure grabbed her wrist, and pulled her closer towards it. Garret pulled a pistol from his waistline and pointed it at the figure, cocking the firing mechanism and firing. The being took the hit in the shoulder, but seemed unfazed. It wrapped its arms around her, and all went black. The last thing she remembered was a soft whisper. "Don't worry."