Matilda's life had turned into a nightmare when she realized that no one else had seen the handsome boy she had been seeing every day for years. He always dressed in black, and she soon discovered that his family, school, and friends were not who he...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, fixated on the wardrobe mirror in front of me. My face was drained of color, lifeless and devoid of any soul, as if it belonged to a corpse. My dull eyes were accentuated by my white eyebrows and eyelashes, making my already eerie appearance even more unsettling. My faded light purple lips only added to the macabre look. My jet black hair, normally straight and smooth, was now frizzy and wild. For the first time, my mirror image reflected my inner turmoil.
Suddenly, my mother's kiss on my hair interrupted my reverie. I turned my gaze to her in the mirror. She looked like an angel in her white satin nightgown, her light blonde hair cascading in soft waves down her shoulders. She recited prayers from the Bible, holding me tightly in her embrace, even though she knew I wasn't a believer. Her hug provided some comfort, but the soulless expression in my eyes persisted.
My brother walked in through the open door, his eyes fixed on me. He placed his warm fingers on my forehead, checking for fever.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice tense.
"Like crap," I replied without looking at him. Soon after, I realized my mother was present and regretted my words. "I'm sorry," I said, turning to face her. She shook her head and shrugged, seemingly unfazed.
"Are you certain you actually saw someone? It's possible that it was just a hallucination or a result of a dream," my brother suggested, perched on the edge of our mother's bed. I was confused as to why they had brought me here. Instead of waking up in my own bed, I found myself in my mother's room.
"It's been two years..." I muttered, my voice strained. I cleared my throat and tried to speak more clearly. "I've been seeing that thing for two years," I said, taking a deep breath and puffing up my chest. As my brother's thick brown eyebrows furrowed, a small "Z" formed between them.
"Why are you only telling us now?" he asked sternly.
"Because I thought it was just me seeing things. I didn't know that nobody else could see it. But today, I showed it to Stella and she said there was nobody there. She was just in my room..." I felt like I was losing my mind.
He ran his thin fingers through his reddish-brown hair and began to scratch his chin. My mother had finished her prayer, and her gaze went back and forth between me and my brother. She stroked my hair with her soft hands and kissed me.
"Mom? What are we going to do?" my brother asked, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.
My mother took a deep breath and sighed. She brought her soft fingers to my forehead and smoothed the strands of black hair on my forehead. Then, she pressed her fingers to my temples and began massaging them slowly. "We can go to the church and see the priest," she said, her voice uncertain.
