22:38

A look into one of my recurring nightmares.

•

I’m in a dark, dusty room, unclean mirrors side by side on each wall, the cracks filled in with old floral wallpaper, and I look at my reflection; it is blurry, almost unrecognisable, but as I make out my bare feet, my body slowly becomes clear.

My clothes are the first thing I notice. Tight, revealing clothes that show as much flesh as possible. I immediately understand why there are mirrors - to see my horrific body all around me, to send me mad. Every mirror now has a disgusting girl trapped inside, and in her eyes is fear. I stumble; I cannot leave this room. I am surrounded by copies of the same disfigured body and disfunctional brain. 

Stopping myself for a second, I think about the situation - I could never tell if it is a dream or not, my state of mind makes me constantly in a dream-like state, detached, derealised, depersonalised, deranged. My head begins to swell and throb, and I walk over to the closest mirror. I stand, gently lifting a finger and pressing it slowly onto the glass.

As soon as my flesh touches the surface, all the mirrors on that wall disappear, replaced by glass. On the other side I can see a boy. His finger tip is touching mine on the glass, as if we both went through the same situation. He stumbles back, obviously surprised at this occurence. Cocking his head slightly, he cautiously walks back towards me, and I take his appearance in. 

He is wearing oversized clothes, black ripped jeans showing little flesh and a baggy pink jumper swallows him. His hair is large and floppy, a mousy brown with tinges of ginger, curling slightly at the bottom, his eyes blue with a green outer rim. His feet too, are bare. 

As he gets closer, his hand begins to reach forward, and eventually rests upon the glass. I slowly move my hand up to reach his, connecting over hands, the glass the only thing between us. 

Then he is gone, and replaced by a girl, much different from me, deep brown eyed and bleach blonde hair - she is gone in a flash, replaced by a boy with straight black hair and brown eyes - gone even quicker, replaced with a person with curly ginger hair and green eyes - replaced by a girl - replaced by a boy -

This cycle does not stop. 

It gets faster and the switching becomes louder, each change now making a loud, deep noise, my head slowly filling with sounds and voices I never knew existed.

Then it stops. 

We are back to the first boy. 

His eyes are now red and raw, from crying. 

His hand is now pushing against the glass, and I can feel his hand coming through. 

His skin touches mine, and we interlock hands, and I attempt to pull him through, twisting and wrenching his arm, but I begin to notice I am being pulled into his side. At first I accept it, but then I notice his side becoming grey and noisy, filling with the voices of people I know shaming me and shouting, calling me names, telling me to die -

I also begin to notice that some of these things are things I have said to myself. 

And I don’t want to go to the boys side of the glass anymore. 

But my arm is already through, and I can’t muster enough strength to pull away, the boy looking at me with soft,  pleading eyes, as if he is in no control of what is happening, and he is sorry. My head begins to fall through the glass, and as soon as it is completely through the grey begins to form into whip like shapes, and enters in my ears, my nose, my mouth, and then my eyes, and all I can see is black and all I can hear is hate and all I can smell is oil and all I can taste is vomit but all I can feel the boys hand. 

•

I wake up in a sweat. 

I can somehow still feel the warmth of the boys hand. 

~