Random Stories

Reality

So um, this is for the contest of seller_of_dreams and I uh kinda got it some days late... hope that's still ok (i may or may not have forgotten about this contest for some weeks...)

Even if it isn't, to whoever reads that: enjoy :)

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, not wanting to look at the mirror in front of her so she could ignore the mascara that was now ruined by her earlier tears. She had been crying all afternoon, head in her pillow, trying to wash away all the things that were keeping her awake at night, wishing that she could just forget about her life and start from zero. But she knew that wasn't possible, so instead she just cried all her worries away, as if the tears could help her feel better, which they didn't.

It had taken her a whole hour to dry her eyes up and decide to look up at the mirror in front of her, a move she immediately regretted. What the mirror showed her was not what she wanted, it was not what she had hoped for, but, of course, she knew miracles just didn't happen, and therefore when she saw her messed up face for the hundredth time in her life, her brown hair trying to escape from her head, her face all black due to all her mascara and tears, her forehead with grains the tears hadn't made disappear and her eyes pleading her reflection to look away, she couldn't help but wish miracles were real, and that all her crying could have, at least, helped her with her face. But instead, all it did was make her even more ugly.

She glared at her reflection. Even since she was young, she had always hated mirrors. She thought of them as the inevitable proof that she was who she was, that she had to be there, that she couldn't run away from what her mother and father had made her.

For what felt like eternity, she had hated reality. She had always loved to go off sometimes, think about what she could be in another world, and imagine what she would do if she wasn't trapped in this mess of a life she had, even if it wasn't as bad as she believed it to be. She had dreamed of running away, starting again in another place, forgetting about all her past experiences, having the opportunity to start again, finally being able to understand the quote 'the story of your life never starts at the beginning'.

But when, after years of just wishing and dreaming, the opportunity had come in the looks of a black haired boy, she had been too scared to start again, and now she was facing the consequences of her own actions, which meant taking crying as a hobby, since it seemed to be the only thing she was good at, just crying her problems away.

And now she was looking at the mirror, thinking she had recovered from the tears, when she saw the shadow of a reflection behind her, the past shadow of this good looking boy, black hair and black eyes, and this smile that represented all her chances to start again a new life, and then she remembered the way she had wasted this opportunity, and she couldn't help but letting a tiny tear fall down her cheeks, and soon she was fully sobbing again, and she tried to push reality away, but reality kept pushing her back in.

***********

He stared at the ceiling, repeating time and time again the promise he had been keeping as long as he could remember, and the one that he had already broken a hundred times.

I will not cry.

He knew he should know better than that. It had already been a month since then, and he still couldn't recover. He had spent thirty days just doing nothing, staring at the ceiling, eating something and sleeping, constantly repeating the four words on his head.

I will not cry.

No matter how many times he had said them, in a whisper, shouting or just in a thought, he knew he'll always end up crying, and he felt stupid for it. He had promised himself that he would never be this dependent on someone, and yet there he was, crying again over the shadow of a memory that kept haunting him. And that memory represented everything he didn't want.