floating | ✓

19| haunted

“Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are our own fears.”

-Rudyard Kipling

19| haunted

The room is so bright I snap my eyes shut immediately. After a few seconds, when I have adjusted to it, I blink and open them.

Mirrors. All around us. From the ceiling to the walls.

Wherever I look, there are mirrors. On one mirror I catch my reflection, our reflection.

Oliver is being more silent than a grave, and I know why.

In the mirror, I see one of his arms draped around my shoulder, other around my waist, lifting me off the ground. My black satin dress has hiked up a little. One of my hands is resting on Oliver’s chest as he is leaning against the door he opened. We are wrapped together.

I look at Oliver in the mirror. He looks at me. He looks a little reddish. So do I.

I feel hot. All over. Oliver suddenly lets me go like a bomb.

I look everywhere but at that mirror again. It’s the only plain mirror. There is a kaleidoscope of mirrors around us. I pass a mirror which makes me look fat and short. Bad mirror. I pass another mirror that makes me look tall and lanky. I try to figure out which way to go. One of the mirrors must be the exit door. I look back, and I can’t even tell which mirror was the door we came through.

Oliver is looking around frantically. He pushes a mirror. It doesn’t budge.

I look around myself as well. I push another mirror. Same result.

I walk around aimlessly and try to make the mirrors move. It’s like a maze.

“I think this-” I hear Oliver’s voice from somewhere as the mirror in front of me suddenly snaps open. I didn’t expect that. So I fall straight forward, on the floor.

The door shuts automatically behind me.

“Gwen-” I hear Oliver’s word fade away. 

I try to open the door. It has no knob or handle on this side. I slap on the frame. It doesn’t make much sound. I give up.

That was bad.

I turn around and assess my situation. All around me are bones and skeletons. I lean against the way I came. Well shit, this is scaring me.

I hear a sound in one corner and I break into a run. The room is pretty big and I frantically look for a door. The sound behind me gets loud. It’s like a bone scratching on the floor. I run forward, and my face hits a cloth. It’s a black cloth. I get tangled up. There isn’t any door here. 

When I finally untangle myself, I lift the cloth up and I am in another room. The sound behind me seems to get closer so I run again. This new room is lit in green light. I hear human sounds, and I don’t even wait to look at my surroundings. I find the door. It doesn’t even budge. 

Crap. Crap.

The door opens and I fall face first again.

Someone makes a woof sound. I’m over someone’s body. It’s a guy.

“Oliver?” I say as I support myself on one of my elbows, my other hand on his stomach.

Abs.

“You’re not Oliver,” I state.

The guy underneath me laughs. “You bet I’m not.”

The voice sounds disgustingly familiar. “Nice meeting you again, Gwen Bradbury.”