The Boy In The Mirror

Twelve

"Hazeh."

Her father was wearing dark brown trousers and a white button-up shirt tucked tightly into his trousers, his arms were folded and he looked angry.

"Yes?"

Hazeh had a white t-shirt and brown shorts with spotty socks, she tried to smile.

"Have you been in my room?" Her father asked, stepping closer to her. "Don't lie to me."

"Your bedroom?" Hazeh asked, stepping away. "I have never been, not once."

"Not the bedroom," he replied sharply. "The room that is locked at the bottom of this corridor."

"If it's locked how would I be able to enter?" Hazeh replied sarcastically, before seeing her father's face. "I mean, no, I have not been in that room."

"I will believe you this once," her father sighed, wiping his hands on his trousers. "I need to talk to you about your mother."

"What about her?" Hazeh asked, not really bothered in her parents. "Have you had a fight again?"

"No," her father scowled. "It's about her recent odd behaviour."

"Odd behaviour?" Hazeh felt as if she was being watched. "What do you mean?"

"Don't try and pretend you are oblivious," he watched his daughter fiddle with her fingers. "I raised you to be smarter than that, try and take this conversation seriously."

"Sure," Hazeh realised what she was doing with her fingers and quickly hid her hands behind her back. "I admit it, she has been acting rather peculiar lately, but is it enough to make a fuss?"

"Your mother talks to that cat more than she does to me," her father remembered waking up to her whispering to the cat at the end of their bed. "She seems to not be here, as if she's in a dream of sorts."

"I still don't know why this has anything to do with me," Hazeh interrupted. "Just leave her to it, she's probably just lonely."

"Lonely people don't talk to cats, Hazeh." His patience was running thin. "Do you talk to cats too?"

"No," Hazeh thought to herself. "But I do talk to people inside mirrors."

"All I'm saying is that to just keep an eye on her," he checked his watch. "I'm not saying she's crazy or anything like that, she's most likely traumatised."

"Whatever," she drew in a breath. "I don't care as much as you think I do."

"Have you cared about anyone before?" Her father walked past her. "Including yourself?"

"I cared about Saad," Hazeh mumbled to herself. "And I cared about my classmates, but it didn't stop them from all dying."

Looking back at his daughter, he wondered where exactly he went wrong. Hazeh used to be such a happy and outgoing child, now she barely speaks and when she does it is purely sarcasm. Of course he blamed it on himself, Hazeh was now only an empty shell of who she was before. He wished his family would come back to him, their bodies lived with him but their minds and souls were long gone.

Turning to leave, Hazeh saw Amal staring up at her, watching her. It's sharp eyes studied Hazeh's movements as she walked up the stairs.

"I knew they wouldn't have remembered," Hazeh thought to herself as she climbed the last step. "I didn't want to celebrate it anyway."

Gazing at the small door Hazeh considered not visiting Jimin, she didn't want to bother him all the time and he may think she seemed lonely; not that she wasn't. After contemplating for a few minutes, she opened the door and as usual the lights radiated the room, leaving not speck of darkness.

"Happy birthday, Hazeh!" Jimin shouted, jumping up holding a brightly lit cake. "I baked you a cake!"

"How did you know?" Hazeh asked, surprised. "I never told you when my birthday was.."

"I heard your parents discussing about it yesterday." Jimin smiled, pleased with himself. "I can't believe you didn't tell me it was your birthday!"

"I didn't want to make a fuss," Hazeh replied, walking awkwardly towards Jimin. "And it seems like you have."

"Make a fuss?" Jimin scowled, shaking his head in disapproval. "It is your birthday, of course I'm going to make a big deal out of it! I have not celebrated anything with anyone in ages!"

"Did you really bake me a cake?" Hazeh giggled, looking at the white icing dripping where twelve lit candles stood. "I am not going to be able to eat it, silly."

"That doesn't matter," Jimin grinned, looking down at his creation in satisfaction. "I don't mind eating it myself, I only made it so you can make a wish."

"A wish?" Hazeh saw some white baking powder on Jimin's nose but decided to not say anything. "What do you mean?"

"You blow the candles out and make a wish!" Jimin smiled. "But you can't tell me what you wished for or it won't come true!"

"You are such a child," Hazeh tapped the mirror. "I can't blow them out anyway, idiot."

"Why not?" Jimin felt upset she had rejected his idea. "Please, I made this cake specially for you and-"

"Jimin." Hazeh tapped the mirror again. "Have you forgotten something? The same reason I can't eat the cake?"

"Huh?" Jimin cocked his head to the side. "I don't- oh! Oh, I forgot.."

"It doesn't matter!" Hazeh quickly said, seeing Jimin's smile fall. "You can blow them out for me and I can make my wish, how about that?"

"What if it doesn't work properly?" Jimin sighed, his shoulders drooped. "I was really excited to see you blow the candles out, it took me all night to make it after a few burnt cakes and after all that I did it all for nothing. I am sorry, I wanted to make you happy and yet you look disappointed."

"I am sure it will work," Hazeh smiled. "As long as you can blow out candles correctly."

"I can blow out candles!" Jimin pouted. "I am the greatest blower there ever was!"

Hazeh burst out laughing and after a few seconds of realisation, Jimin did too.

"Okay, on the count of three blow out the candles." Hazeh instructed after they had calmed down. "One, two-"

"Three!" Jimin shouted and blew the candles out as hard as he could.

"I wish I could stay with Jimin forever." Hazeh whispered to herself, squeezing her eyes shut. "I would like him to never cry too."

"Did you make a wish?" Jimin asked, Hazeh opened her eyes to see Jimin already eating. "Was it something you really wanted?"

"Yes," Hazeh sat down, rested her chin in her hand and watched Jimin messily eat icing off his fingers. "I hope it comes true."