8. Mirror on the Wall

Anastasiya Van Houten

"Come on Anastasiya" I growled, forcing my legs to take another step.

How did someone like me, who leapt from crazy heights, who jumped meters in a single leap be reduced to this??

A bumbling and confused doofus who couldn't even take a fucking step toward a mirror that was less than ten steps away.

The frustration and anger that I had been bottling up seemed to have found a way out of its lid and was now threatening to engulf me as a whole.

My legs felt like jelly, the bandage around my head was constricting, I could barely see anything, Fuck. I was in the middle of nowhere.

My fingers curled tightly around the bedpost as I leaned against it, taking a small breather. Beads of sweat dribbled down my face before falling silently onto the sleeves of this drab and dreary hospital gown.

Where was Valencia?

She is the only person that can clarify this misconception.

Was she all right?

I honestly didn't know why I was so worried about her, I didn't even know her on a personal level and frankly, I was in this shithole of a situation because of her.

Well, Malcom has eighty percent portion of the blame but still, if she wasn't there I would have killed Malcom and gotten this shit over with.

I mean it was practically her who set the plan in motion by sending me that parcel containing all of Malcom's shifty deals...

"Enough Anastasiya" I breathed out, forcing myself to push those intruding thoughts away."We've got bigger fish to fry".

Like building up the strength and courage to walk straight to the end of the room and look into a fucking mirror.

A very time-consuming and dangerous task.

With a deep breath, I took another step forward, bidding a painful and excruciating goodbye to the bedpost that had given me all the support I needed throughout this journey.

The next few steps felt like I was defying gravity, one that was hellbent on pulling me towards the ground.

I exhaled slowly, pausing at every agonizing step until finally—finally—I stood just a foot away from the mirror.

My pulse hammered in my chest, a steady drumbeat of anxiety and dread.

“It’s just a fucking mirror,” I muttered under my breath. “Nothing to be scared of, right?”

Except I was terrified.

Terrified of what I might see staring back at me.

Terrified of a possibility I had begun to accept.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to lift my head, eyes slowly rising until they met the reflection— my reflection.

And the world stopped- My world stopped.

My breath hitched, caught in my throat like a cruel thief in the night.

My reflection..wasn’t...mine?

The jagged and prominent scar that ran from my ear to the bottom of my jaw. The very scar i had spent countless hours gazing at. I had memorized every inch of it, so much that i could predict the arch of every single curve and bulge.

Instead of my scar, a soft expanse of pale and reddened skin shone brightly.

It wasn’t my face staring back at me.

Tousled yet striking dark hair, cloudy eyes...

It was Valencia’s.

Shock rippled through me, cold and paralyzing.

This had to be a trick, a hallucination brought on by pain and exhaustion. My mind was playing cruel tricks on me, distorting reality into something unrecognizable.

But no matter how many times I blinked, rubbed my eyes, or shook my head, the reflection remained the same.

Valencia’s face, pale and strained, with eyes wide in disbelief—my disbelief.

“No,” I whispered hoarsely, stepping back as if trying to distance myself from the truth.

Everything felt constricted, like I was stuck in a cage, a reality that couldn’t accommodate my stature. To put it simply, I felt claustrophobic.

Bouts of coughs rippled from my chest as i tumbled back, trying to shake or bring myself out of this maelstrom of emotions and confusion i found myself wallowing in.

I needed to leave, to get away from here.

With that very thought in my mind, my bare feet scraped against the cold floor, in an attempt to turn away, turn towards the window… somehere…anywhere that would take me out of this palace of lies.

Instead of my body to rise to my cause and support me, it turned it’s back on me. My knees practically knocked against each other, unable to stand on its own, My vision dwindled to an alarming rate, stars danced to an unknown tune as I pressed my eye lids shut, trying to regain even an ounce of my strength.

Amidst all the battles I found myself, sword and armor against, I couldn’t fight the battle for air, my chest tightened with each breath I took, I could feel my heart right in my throat, as if it was ready to abandon ship.

I couldn’t to this any-

A startled scream escaped my lips as my bare foot caught on the edge of nothing, and gravity finally won.

I tumbled backward, the ground rushing up to meet me with wide arms.

I could already anticipate it, the sudden rush of pain, the blinding loss of stability. It felt like I was falling in slow motion, awaiting a fate that seemed hell bent on eluding me.

A tear dribbled from my eye, its whisper lost in the wind.

The room morphed and weaved itself into an intricate and expressive basket of darkness, one I happily embraced.

What was I even doing alive?