Alex

Mirror Face was a legend in the small town of Darkridge. 5 years ago he slaughtered 6 students at Darkridge High. Soon after he was found and shot to death by the police department. Or was he?

Alex

I’m barely even awake before I stumble my way over to my medicine box. I take a second to clear my mind and flip open my treatment journal. Yesterday’s treatment, a few hits of crack and two energy drinks over the course of the day had been particularly effective; though I had blacked out towards the end of the night. I put a plus sign next to the entry in my journal. This morning, however, I was feeling upbeat. Almost too upbeat in fact, my state of mind felt psychotically happy. I grabbed a few Xantax and threw the remainder of yesterday’s energy drink in the garbage can. I wouldn’t be needing caffeine today. I pocketed a small joint wrapped in a plastic bag and closed and relocked my medicine box before heading downstairs to breakfast.

My dad was already at the table reading a paper with disinterest. I knew he was concerned over how he’d balance our finances with his latest massive donation to the church of scientology. The old man was bound and determined to “go clear” even if it killed us. And by looking at the spread on the table, it just might. A few eggs and some turkey bacon were all that I had on my plate this morning. I wanted to ignore them in protest, but I was too hungry so I started eating.

“Good morning, son.” he said coldly. He was still angry over the fight we had last night. “Have you thought about what we discussed?”

“No.” I said angrily between bites of bacon and egg, “I’m not going to pretend to be a member of your church just so that they don’t tell you to get rid of me.” He let out a heavy sigh in response.

“That’s not what it’s about, son.” He said to me honestly as he reached out to touch my hand. I pulled away quickly, “I just want you to support my choices.” I shot him an angry glare and he stood up and walked to the other room to retrieve something. I took this opportunity to pop the Xantax in my mouth and wash them down with the water sitting next to my plate. My father would lose his mind if he knew the methods I use to keep my mental state in check.

I could hear him talking from the other room, “Look, son. I bought you a set of basic books yesterday and I’d like it if you read through them.” I could hear him rummaging around for the books, but I wasn’t stupid. Some staff member trying to up their sale count had bullied my father into buying another set of those goddamn books and he was trying to reason out why he would buy a second set. I grabbed my backpack from beside the door and dipped out before he could come back into the room.

Scientology is a cult, plain and simple. I don’t really care what the IRS or anyone else says about it. I fondled the joint in my pocket with my fingertips idly as I walked down the street. If my dad wasn’t a member I’d be able to go get psychiatric help like a normal kid. I wouldn’t be forced to self medicate with crazy cocktails of illegal and secondhand drugs just because some dead guy told my dad that psychology was bad. It was incredibly lucky for me that the market for illegal drugs was easily tapped at my school, though I wasn’t sure if that was a widely known fact or not. I did my best to isolate myself from others as well as I could when I could.

I wasn’t going to be able to isolate myself today, though. Today was lab day in biology and I knew I’d end up partnered up with someone. A few people if I was extraordinarily unlucky. As I thought about working with someone I felt my anxiety start to mount until the Xantax kicked in. Good old Xantax; it had always been one of my favorite toys in my medicine chest.

The morning at school went pretty smoothly; I felt confident that I had chosen my meds well again today. It was during lunch when I dipped out behind the gym to smoke my joint that I first heard of the murder.

“Seriously, dude… I heard that she was strung up by her ankles and drained of blood.” a young freshman with a cigarette hanging from his lip explained. “Then he chopped off her tongue and took it with him.”

“How do you know it’s a he, dipshit?” The girl next to him said after she had dropped and ground out her own cigarette. “And I heard the killed chopped her arms and legs off to kill her. Why would they hang her upside down?”

“She was like a piece of meat, I’m telling you!” The first boy exclaimed. The others in the group shook their head and chuckled at him. They stubbed out their cigarettes and began to head back to the school as I took a long drag off my joint to try and set aside what I had just heard.

There had been a murder? I hadn’t even been aware of it, frankly. I was curious for more details, but I knew what that might mean. Nightmares could mean a worse medication day tomorrow morning. I was hesitant to look up any information that might provide nightmare fuel for my already unbalanced brain. I stood up and began to make my way to biology class.

Somehow I had made it 17 years of my life without ever participating in the dissection of a frog, but it seems Mrs. Tewillier was bound and determined to break that track record this year. The smell of formaldehyde was thick in the air as we all mulled around to find our tables with various frogs layed out on them in waiting. I found my name on one of the cards near the back.

“Alexander Spires and Emelia Franke” the card read. I could hardly contain my excitement when I realized; Emilia had called in sick today! I stood behind my station, choosing not to alert the teacher, and awaited the signal to begin.

“Ok, you can begin. Place the organs on the worksheet as you remove them. I’ll be coming around to help you during the exercise.” I looked down at the dead frog and grabbed the scalpel. I could feel the THC from the weed I had smoked even me out as I went to work. I cut quickly and cleanly. It was so easy to find my way around the insides of something like this. Bodies might seem messy to people but that’s only because they always watched them in movies. Props spilling out of a guy with zombie makeup on. In reality everything in a body had it’s place, nice and neat.

I was shaving down one of the valves of the heart to a perfect symmetry when the teacher approached. She looked down at my work and raised an eyebrow.

“Wow, that was impressively quick, Alex.” She said with a nod, “Where is your partner?” I motioned over to the card on my table.

“I was paired up with Emilia and she’s out today.” I explained. She nodded and jotted a note on her clipboard.

“Well done then, I’m giving you an A on this lab. Could you help some of the others since you’ve finished early?”  Her question was earnest, but my heart sank immediately. She seemed to notice the look on my face. She jotted something down on a piece of paper on her clipboard. “Nevermind, actually. Here’s a hall pass to the library. You can spend the rest of the period self studying there. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I burst from the front doors of the school and started back down the road towards my house. I had a free period after Biology so this was my chance to make it home early and get some time at home without my father mulling around. I could already feel my Xantax beginning to wear off and my anxiety was coming out from under its blanket. Thoughts about the killer began to race through my head immediately.

Even though it was daylight, every alley way felt like a corridor leading to my doom. I couldn’t take the main road because then he would know I was getting home early. My home would be a death trap after that with only two ways out and both of them downstairs. I waked down the alley that lead to the side street I knew would take me home, glancing around at all the houses around me. Waiting for a pair of eyes to be staring back at me from every window.

As if the alley wasn’t bad enough already I finally reached the street. Out in the open and ready for any potential killer to make his mark. God, why had I chosen to go home early today? Was a few extra hours away from school really worth being killed by some crazy person? I began to sprint down the street to the next alley, where I was positively sure more eyes waited to stare at me from between the gaps in the wooden fence.

After what felt like hours I closed the door behind me and locked it. I went around the house immediately, checking every lock on every door and window. F**k, one of our windows had been unlocked all day. That meant he could be in here, even my own home wasn’t safe. I dashed up to my room and locked the bedroom door behind me. As I turned to walk back to the window I saw movement out of the corner of my eye that made me jump.

“Just a mirror. It was just a mirror.” I said to myself, breathing heavily. Taking a moment to stop and think made me realize suddenly that today’s cocktail had failed me. I was now a quivering mass of anxiety and fear over something I had merely overheard behind a school gym. I stumbled back over to the medicine box and grabbed a Valium and another plastic bag. A swallow from the bottle at my bedside helped me get the Valium down and I lit up the end of the on the joint immediately.

As soon as I coughed up the first hit I felt instantly better. Weed was the cheapest and fastest acting thing in my arsenal to control my mind. Sometimes it made me a bit paranoid, sure. But never as paranoid as my own brain left unchecked. I looked at the clock, 2pm. Dad wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. I flushed the last little bit of my joint and put a big X next to today’s log in my med journal. I’d have to do better tomorrow. I laid down in bed and decided to take a nap until my dad returned from work.

Reviews

[Relic]

Despite some punctuation errors and some typos this was a good read. Its focus is mainly on Alex's character but slowly leads into how he first heard about mirror face in a creative way. A pretty good introduction.