L'autre Côté du Miroir
Graveyard.
It was around midnight; I had finished my shift, changed into normal clothes and went through the club’s backdoor and into the dark alley outside. I had become constantly wary and paranoid as I made my way home; I always walked on the road and avoided alleyways. My apartment building appeared through the fog and my worries lifted with a sigh of relief.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and screamed so loudly I thought my mended face would crack and split right now the middle once more.
“Shh…Bellatrix, it’s me, Pepito.”
His voice was soft and reassuring. I peered through the darkness and saw the outline of his rugged wooden features, and flung myself into his arms. I had gone limp from the shock.
“God…you scared the living hell out of me…”
“Oh, it’s ok. I followed you from the club; I was scared you would be attacked again.”
I let out a laugh, which tinkled like shattered porcelain.
“Would you like to take a walk with me?”
“Of course.”
Hand in hand, my puppet friend and I began to walk towards the graveyard.
The air was filled with sounds of ghosts clanking around; denting tin, snapping wood, breaking porcelain, tearing fabric, clicking plastic…I loved to take walks in the graveyard. You can never be sure if the people you see are real or not…the atmosphere is eerie and comforting. Pepito’s wooden hand in my newly made porcelain one was my only grasp on reality.
He stopped. We stood bathed in the dim yellow light of a lantern, and I froze.
He kissed away all my bad memories and a new door opened in my life.
A door I had never thought to open.
Love.
x
Morning peeked through the dull curtains of my tiny apartment, waking me from my peaceful slumber and bringing back memories of the night before.
The Looking Glass, the alleyway, the streets, Pepito, the graveyard…
Had it been a dream?
I looked upon my clothes which I had carelessly tossed onto the floor, and a white piece of paper peaked out from the folds of cheap fabric.
The note contained three words, and I smiled.
x
I decided to meet up with Pepito again that night. We met once more in the graveyard, and strolled hand in hand between the headstones.
“Bellatrix…”
I gazed at him.
“You are perfect.”
My hand flew to the crack that ran down my face, but he pushed my hand away and ran his finger gently down the crack. His pure sweetness took over me once more, I felt myself go limp with the power of infatuation.
x
I can now say with much confidence that my relationship with the puppet changed my life. He loved me for everything I was, accepted me and taught me to be happy with my life; something I thought I could never accept. Working as a gogo dancer was no longer my source of self-hatred, and the future no longer mattered.
I remember waking up on one particular winter morning. It was a day like any other day; I awoke to the sound of Pepito’s voice, feeling his arms wrapped around me.
“You are perfect.”
My room was adorned with his gifts. Flowers, pictures, poems and notes covered the shelves and dull green walls.
My imperfect life had become perfect.
When I left the apartment alone that morning, I had everything in the world.
Or so I thought.
x
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and screamed so loudly I thought my mended face would crack and split right now the middle once more.
“Shh…Bellatrix, it’s me, Pepito.”
His voice was soft and reassuring. I peered through the darkness and saw the outline of his rugged wooden features, and flung myself into his arms. I had gone limp from the shock.
“God…you scared the living hell out of me…”
“Oh, it’s ok. I followed you from the club; I was scared you would be attacked again.”
I let out a laugh, which tinkled like shattered porcelain.
“Would you like to take a walk with me?”
“Of course.”
Hand in hand, my puppet friend and I began to walk towards the graveyard.
The air was filled with sounds of ghosts clanking around; denting tin, snapping wood, breaking porcelain, tearing fabric, clicking plastic…I loved to take walks in the graveyard. You can never be sure if the people you see are real or not…the atmosphere is eerie and comforting. Pepito’s wooden hand in my newly made porcelain one was my only grasp on reality.
He stopped. We stood bathed in the dim yellow light of a lantern, and I froze.
He kissed away all my bad memories and a new door opened in my life.
A door I had never thought to open.
Love.
x
Morning peeked through the dull curtains of my tiny apartment, waking me from my peaceful slumber and bringing back memories of the night before.
The Looking Glass, the alleyway, the streets, Pepito, the graveyard…
Had it been a dream?
I looked upon my clothes which I had carelessly tossed onto the floor, and a white piece of paper peaked out from the folds of cheap fabric.
The note contained three words, and I smiled.
x
I decided to meet up with Pepito again that night. We met once more in the graveyard, and strolled hand in hand between the headstones.
“Bellatrix…”
I gazed at him.
“You are perfect.”
My hand flew to the crack that ran down my face, but he pushed my hand away and ran his finger gently down the crack. His pure sweetness took over me once more, I felt myself go limp with the power of infatuation.
x
I can now say with much confidence that my relationship with the puppet changed my life. He loved me for everything I was, accepted me and taught me to be happy with my life; something I thought I could never accept. Working as a gogo dancer was no longer my source of self-hatred, and the future no longer mattered.
I remember waking up on one particular winter morning. It was a day like any other day; I awoke to the sound of Pepito’s voice, feeling his arms wrapped around me.
“You are perfect.”
My room was adorned with his gifts. Flowers, pictures, poems and notes covered the shelves and dull green walls.
My imperfect life had become perfect.
When I left the apartment alone that morning, I had everything in the world.
Or so I thought.
x