Black Mirror

Based on a dream I had...

 

Broken. Scared. Cold? How is can it be so cold? My eyes feel so heavy; my body is pained beyond imagination. I recoil from the droplets of rain that feel like spears. Life is fading from my mind...how could I fall? My body is broken and a haze covers my eyes. The rain still pours down; it has lost its force. Numbness encompasses me. Hell has found me...

 

Silent as the grave…motionless as the stone that marked my mother’s resting place, that was the night I will always remember. The sky was black and starless and the wind had no howl, no chill. The air was dead as well, a thick musky sensation as it entered my lungs only to be coughed out once more.

 

Odd how I remember such mundane things, but the thing that stands out in my memory more then anything is the way I came upon a man. A tall snowy-haired stranger with eyes like raven wings; black almost purple. He was near a lake, a black sort of mirror the showed the fading scarlet moon. He was kneeling and slowly moving his hands with in the waves of darkened glass.

 

Eyes transfixed on his movements I couldn't help but feel drawn to him, it was as if he was the modern Piper of the Night. As I approached I felt a slightly chilling feeling, my hand reached to touch his pristine and delicate hair. Shaking my hand slips through his form and as I stumble, surprised my hand presses against the black mirror.

 

Shock etches into my features and I feel a wave of dizziness when the mirror cracks. Like the resounding gong it echoes…it echoes and follows me as I fall. I keep with this unholy decent and as the gong fades the glass begins to cover me. Envelop me in some unnatural darkness that makes me feel alive…almost free. Untouchable.

 

Yes, my love of this dark mirror festered as it started to take over my body…my mind. It was all mine. All consuming. Yet…I found a flaw in this black glass that lead to my falls ending.

 

A rose. Simple. Lovely. Red.

 

I floated down, touching the roses as I went; my body was made entirely of black glass…beautiful. Cold. But the faster I moved, the more roses I touched the more alive I became. The more human I was made.

 

Then a problem arose and I had no guidance…do I touch the black glass rose, larger then the others…more beautiful. Or do I take the small roses? Varying in color and beauty…what was I meant to do, to take?

 

This question took the place of everything, thought…reason…none of it mattered anymore. I had a choice. And I chose…yes, I chose.

 

Black rose. Empty soul. Eternal beauty in the world’s eyes.

 

Or…

 

Bundles of red. Passion…life…hope. Eternity with love.

 

My choice…was simple; perish in the endless span of time or become eternity. I chose my eternity.

 

Now as it had happened I am still lying here, broken…but no longer an image of tainted glass…a black mirror of the soul parody. No. Now I am flesh and blood, breakable and vulnerable. Red roses mark where I now lay. Hell may of found me…but it will never take me.