Empty

She stares at me, neither darkness nor light invading my sight.

Blank eyes stare forwards with less of anything than even a void should hold; a crystal glare shielding their thoughts - chaotic and tranquil - from any other soul.  

Neither terror nor joy resides in the straight-lined lips. Neither fear nor boldness strikes through the frozen state.  

Should I feel scared?

  Should there be something in the emptiness? Coiling and dark? Liberating and light?

  What I see staring back at me doesn't seem to care.  

A dull, hollowed face is framed by dark hair that flows past the arms by her side. Grey eyes stare into a bleak future she finds in my eyes. There isn't a hair out of place to show a sign of life, no twitch of a lip to betray emotion. Her white dress is a perfect display of how I see her - cold, indifferent, blank.

  People - w***e breathing is more expressive than anything on her character - laugh and talk and dance and sing around us, the walls closing in seemingly not a problem. The erratic darting of my eyes is not one of their worries.

Her hand reaches out for me, and yet nobody spares a glance.

  The girl is pulled away from me and yet nobody hears my cries.   Clutching grasps of vicious hands and treacherous claws.

What can I do?

The cheval glass doesn't even stumble as she is ripped away.  

My narrowing vision stops focusing on what I've lost, and life is everywhere around me.  

And I'm standing before myself once again - walls no longer caving in. Clothes colourful and bright, hands pink and warm.  

But my eyes are blank.

  My eyes are empty.  

They dance around like nothing is wrong, smiling as though they had anything to smile about. And I feel nothing at all.   

Despite the new air of freedom around me (space that I never expected to feel so cold), all I feel is trapped. Her name was never graced upon her ears, a smile was never brought to her lips at an exchange of our words… and yet here, staring into a mirror that never seemed so empty, an ache pulls at my gut.

All I feel is her loss. All I feel is my exhaustion. All I feel is how trapped we truly are.

Every time I come back to the mirror there’s less light in my eyes, my dark hair grows longer to the arms by my sides.

My white dress betrays no secrets behind misty eyes.

We’ve both lost.