ERODA

~Chapter 35~

ANNABEL FLEMING

My reflection.

I stare at myself from the door through a mirror inside of the forbidden room. A gasp escaped my mouth the second I saw myself, thinking it was another person on the other side of the door. My hand goes over my heart in relief that it's only me.

The mirror is cracked in the very center so that my reflection is multiplied and scattered into a hundred different pieces.

But on several of the broken pieces of glass, I notice something.

Blood.

All around the sharp edges of the broken glass, there is blood as if someone punched the mirror multiple times to break it.

It's not fresh blood though, it's dark and dried up. It is definitely blood, I can tell by the texture.

I walk further into the room, which is dimly lit by a lamp in the right corner.

It's more of a closet than it is a room, the space in here is small, but the lack of objects makes it seem larger than it is.

As I step in, all I see is the broken mirror, straight in front of me, and a small, desk-sized table in the right corner.

On top of the table is the lamp, which is the only source of light in here and a single white rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem, sitting underneath the lamp.

That's it, the rest of the room is empty, the only other items being dust particles in the corners of the small space.

I go back to the mirror, tracing my fingers lightly on the broken glass, wondering what made Harry punch this mirror. What would make him angry enough to get his knuckles bloody?

Knowing him it could've been absolutely anything.

After of few more moments of wondering what this room could possibly be and why it was locked before, I walk out and over one door so that I am in my room.

I didn't let Harry talk earlier. I kept cutting him off because I was so fucking angry. I still am, but I can't help but wonder why he seemed so different than he did on that cliff.

I swear that man has two sides to him and I never know which one I am going to get.

Once I'm in my room and everything is calmed down, I realize how much I smell. I mean what can you expect from being hung from a cliff and then laying in the grass most of the day?

When I walk into my bathroom and turn the shower handle, I notice how my arm is extremely sore from my whole body weight being held on it.

"Fucking Harry," I whisper out loud as I strip down and hop in the shower.

There isn't much I can appreciate from being on this island, but one thing it has done is that it has made me enjoy showers more than I ever thought I would.

The hot water feels like heaven and the soap makes me feel like a freshly cleaned baby.

Minutes, maybe hours, pass and I finally turn off the water and step out of the shower. I wrap one of the white towels around my body and then walk out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.