Stepping through the old wooden door, I surrounded myself with complete darkness. Then who, but I, to hear and odd and eerie sound? I gaze through the darkness to find me starring at myself. How can it be so? How could it be that I can see myself through the pitch-black darkness?
Slowly I step towards the image of my own being. My breath I draw in quickly and sharp. The space around me is chilled. My blood runs cold like ice. I reach out to my image as it reaches back for me.
Almost suddenly, the lights flip on. I turn to see none other than my father standing in the doorway. He gives me a suspicious look as I gaze into the thing that beheld my image. Well now I should say my reflection for it was but an old dusty mirror. He shakes his head as he laughs and leaves me in the room.
I hang my head and close my eyes ashamed of being frightened of a mirror. Only then do I hear the same eerie sound do the lights go out. The room chills itself again. Opening my eyes I reach again for my reflection. It reaches too but this time a cold hand grabs mine.
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Screams, Dreams, and Things
This is anything that my demented and darranged mind wants to say or in this case write
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