Wander Past the Eyes That Define You
The Attack
Cold, dull eyes of blue pierced her like frost. Hair, disheveled and unruly, sprung out at every direction in a mousey brown tone and her nose twitched in disgust. She crossed her arms in discontent, squeezing the fat every which way under the pressure. Her shoulders slouched forward making her stomach fold and cascade over her jeans. Legs, gelatinous in nature, spread across the pillows, weaving together in a cross. She quickly lifts her wild eyebrows and smirks, making her dry lips crack.
“Oh, Anna, so dramatic we are.” Anna drops her jaw in disbelief, inching her way closer to the mirror, amazed at the reflection not following.
“How is this happening? What are you?” Anna stuttered. Her reflection rolled her eyes and let her head give in to the weight, leaning her skull to her shoulder.
“Don’t you know? I’m you.” She rolls her body forward to gain enough momentum to rise. After a bit of effort she stands and gestures to her body. She leans in close to the boundary of the glass. In a whisper so harsh, she hissed.
“I’m the failure you’ve become.” Anna grips her hair in confusion.
“I’m not a failure.” She quietly retorts, teeth griping together.
“Aren’t you? Look at yourself. Look at the bumps and blemishes you’ve let get out of hand,” Anna looks down in horror, lightly clawing at her stomach.
“Look at the weak creature you are. You’re helpless. You’ve let everyone walk all over you because you’re simply not worth the fight.” Each word bit at Anna furiously. She turned her head away, whipping warm tears off her face. She shook her head.
“No, I’m strong. People said I was strong.” Anna trembled behind her hands. Her copy threw its head back and bellowed.
“You really thing they’re telling the truth? You’re making your whole family live in misery just by looking at you. Your friends hate the burden you come with. You’re just one big bother. One, big, disgusting bother. They’re lying to you, Anna. Of course they’re going to say you’re strong. They hope that if they say it enough you’ll leave them alone.” Anna backed away from the mirror, shaking her head trying to silence the words being spat at her. The phantom of her pressed itself up against the glass, bearing its nails into the mirror.
“They’re lying, Anna. You don’t mean anything to them. Look at yourself; look at the monster they put up with. The revolting sight of you? Who would want to be around a thing like that?” Anna grabbed the chair sitting in the corner of her room and drove it into the glass. The image of her multiplied into tiny morphs in a web. One had her bulbous nose, one had her heavy brow, one her stomach, and one her hair. Countless copies bearing down on her. They all grinned ear to ear and shook their heads.
“Give it up, dear. You know I win. I win, Anna. There is only one way to end this.” Anna shook under the gaze, defeated. Each bit of her reached through the breaking points in the glass, devouring her. They clawed at the remains of her soul, leaving nothing but a shell.
“Oh, Anna, so dramatic we are.” Anna drops her jaw in disbelief, inching her way closer to the mirror, amazed at the reflection not following.
“How is this happening? What are you?” Anna stuttered. Her reflection rolled her eyes and let her head give in to the weight, leaning her skull to her shoulder.
“Don’t you know? I’m you.” She rolls her body forward to gain enough momentum to rise. After a bit of effort she stands and gestures to her body. She leans in close to the boundary of the glass. In a whisper so harsh, she hissed.
“I’m the failure you’ve become.” Anna grips her hair in confusion.
“I’m not a failure.” She quietly retorts, teeth griping together.
“Aren’t you? Look at yourself. Look at the bumps and blemishes you’ve let get out of hand,” Anna looks down in horror, lightly clawing at her stomach.
“Look at the weak creature you are. You’re helpless. You’ve let everyone walk all over you because you’re simply not worth the fight.” Each word bit at Anna furiously. She turned her head away, whipping warm tears off her face. She shook her head.
“No, I’m strong. People said I was strong.” Anna trembled behind her hands. Her copy threw its head back and bellowed.
“You really thing they’re telling the truth? You’re making your whole family live in misery just by looking at you. Your friends hate the burden you come with. You’re just one big bother. One, big, disgusting bother. They’re lying to you, Anna. Of course they’re going to say you’re strong. They hope that if they say it enough you’ll leave them alone.” Anna backed away from the mirror, shaking her head trying to silence the words being spat at her. The phantom of her pressed itself up against the glass, bearing its nails into the mirror.
“They’re lying, Anna. You don’t mean anything to them. Look at yourself; look at the monster they put up with. The revolting sight of you? Who would want to be around a thing like that?” Anna grabbed the chair sitting in the corner of her room and drove it into the glass. The image of her multiplied into tiny morphs in a web. One had her bulbous nose, one had her heavy brow, one her stomach, and one her hair. Countless copies bearing down on her. They all grinned ear to ear and shook their heads.
“Give it up, dear. You know I win. I win, Anna. There is only one way to end this.” Anna shook under the gaze, defeated. Each bit of her reached through the breaking points in the glass, devouring her. They clawed at the remains of her soul, leaving nothing but a shell.