Pestilence

I gaze unto the mirror, locking eyes with my reflection. I search within the retinas, looking for an answer, for a cure. I find neither, so I raise my palms and search there. Along the wrinkled lines and layers of skin, I see a different pigmentation, in spots, riddled around them. Curious, I touch one on my left hand with the other. My fingertips cause it to slide away from its contact, and falls off my hand slowly, making a sickening sound as it hits the floor.

Horrified, I look back into the mirror for an answer to this new threat, but I only see it smiling. I lock eyes once more, and see it tearing off my shirt. I find it harder to breathe now that I stare at my bare chest, but my reflection only smiles more. Unable to look away from its gaze, I stare as it starts to claw at his chest. I scream in pain as I notice myself doing the same, but still I cannot look away. Layers of skin fall upon the floor, resembling mummy scraps. What was skin filling my fingernails turned into muscle, muscle into bone, but I was no longer screaming. I was pleading with my reflection to stop. I saw no blood from its side, but felt it trickling unto the rest of my body, trickling down to the tiled floor.

Finally my reflection stopped with its smile and stared back at me, cocking its head. I shuddered from the cold air brushing against my mauled flesh. My reflection tilted back to its normal position, and placed his hands over his chest. I recognized what he was going to do, and begged him to stop. He only looked up for a moment, and gave me half a smile before he plunged his fingertips into my chest. I felt no pain, for some unknown reason, but instead cold. With each centimeter he plunged, I grew colder. His smile grew into a full one when he released his hands, and held his, mine, heart between his hands. The bloody mess seeped through his grasp, splashing crimson onto my toes.

The cold surged within me, caressing me almost. The reflection looked at me, at his new item he had dug up, back at me once more, and tossed it into the trashcan beside me. 'Twas then I felt the freedom from the spell of the Mirror, and stumbled out of the door. I was greeted by two figures, wishing to hold me to balance and help me. As I tried to brush them away, to flee, my hands touched a shoulder in accident, and I saw their shoulder flake away. The clothing fluttering off into the wind, the skin dissolving off, the muscles evaporating, and the skeletal bone mass collapsing. I found no air to shriek from the guilty horrorful action I committed, and stumbled some more in the direction away from my companions. The other figure reached out to stop me, but I instead slapped her hand away. I prayed that little contact was enough to not spread my sickness. I was mistaken. Her slapped hand smacked the wall beside her, shattering it into countless fragments. Horrified expressions were painted on her face, and I saw her crumble as well.

I stumbled finally through my desired doorway, and crashed through it. I was greeted by the harsh cold winds and iced ground. Bodies were riddled within it, corpses bearing my face, two sides wearing a flag of their own design. I gazed down at the hole formed within myself, but could not see into it. I instead raised my clawed palms for the search once more. I noticed a drop of water falling unto them. Came rarely, but consistently, until water washed over my hands.

I screamed in anger and sorrow as I let the flood of tears flow.

Time is not made of lines, but Circles.