Familiarity

I know those eyes.
The cold unfeeling blue.
I know that malicious smile.
The grinding and retching of the teeth.
I know those freckles.
The splattered pattern like a bleach stained dress.
The blonde hair.
The gaunt cheeks.
The vacant stare.

I know those features.

Because they are features of me.

I slowly reach out a hand.
Curiosity reigns over me.
Fingers extending forward,
Hoping for the cool feeling of a mirror,
A reflection.

But she doesn’t move.
Her arm stays down.
The cold shiver ricocheted down my spine.
All the regular questions leave my lips.

“Who are you”
“What do you want”
“What are you doing here”
“Answer me please”

I’m begging at this point.
Fear dictates my moves like a puppeteer to a puppet. And her blond hair slowly drifts across her face

My face

Our face

And just as suddenly as my mirror image appeared, Materialised in front of me with malicious smiles and stares,
She fades away.

Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust.