Novel & Cerita Dream Of Broken Mirror

, Then why didn't the memories stop? She could hear dante's croaky voice at every nook and corner of her head that she felt like she was going mad. All she wanted was peace....that was why she broke the mirror, she had done so thinking that destroying whatever that makes her remember him will stop all these torturous nightmares. But it was like peace was very far away from her?, out of her reach and all she wanted was peace, even....even if it was just for a minute??. *

Could it be that my mom has already awoken in reality before me? I can finally go home. I feel myself smile while rushing towards it. But the mirror is broken. The horror of my realization dawns on me as the little pieces of glass stay scattered on the floor. No... I pick up the pieces in hopes that I can still exit this horror. No... But to no avail, I still cannot see myself in it. No... And I can no longer see myself sleeping on the bed with it. The mirror is gone like powder and ashes. How can I go home now?

Which should have told me something. The house had never let me be happy for three days in a row without a reason. It started with the mirrors. Every reflective surface in the house began showing the same thing at the same time. The vision from the master bedroom mirror. The one it had shown Liam that morning. All three of us;Liam on his knees, mouth stretched around a thick shadow cock that wasn’t mine, ass plugged with writhing tendrils, while I rode on Liam face while Elias’s cock fucked me from behind. The visions looped—silent, endless, obscene. My reflection always looked blissed out. Broken. Silent but vivid. Playing over and over in every mirror in every room like the house wanted to

She might be blind but I just knew she would be able to sense it. I waved off the thought and returned to dry my hair at the table. The broken mirror was still lying face down. Why did I still have this? I picked it up and was going to dump it in the trash again when a thought crossed my mind in a flash. Quickly, my eyes scanned the words I’d seen days ago but couldn’t make any sense out of them. "Beneath the moon's mournful gaze it lies, where crimson stains mark a shattered dream but amidst the ink-stained tears of the past

My claws extended without conscious thought, and before I knew it, before I could stop myself or even think to try, the mirror was in shards at my feet. The crash echoed through the abandoned wing, a sound like thunder and breaking hearts. Each piece that hit the stone seemed to take a piece of that impossible hope with it, scattering fragments of what might have been across the dusty floor. I stood in the wreckage, chest heaving, hands bleeding from where the glass had bitten deep, surrounded by a thousand fractured reflections that showed me nothing but darkness. But still... something lingered.

Then Isla walked up to the wall-sized mirror—an old interrogation remnant—and pressed her palm against it. Her reflection looked back at her with too many eyes. Hers—and Lyra’s. “I want to break it,” she whispered. Christopher stepped up beside her. “Then break it.” She looked at him. “Go ahead,” he said, voice steady. “Shatter it. And then we start from what’s real.” A trembling breath. Then she balled her fist, drew back— And drove it into the mirror. Glass exploded. Shards scattered across the floor like truth finally given form.

Eyes closed. But alive. Still alive. I went to her. Glass in my shoes, in my skin, leaving a trail of blood. Didn't matter. Sat on the bed. Took her hand. Cold. Light. "Yan," she whispered. Didn't open her eyes. "You broke them." "I broke the mirrors." "Same thing." She smiled. Small. Real. The last one. "They're me. I'm them. You broke me." "Good." She laughed. Coughed. Weak.

A broken typewriter sat on the desk beside a cracked mirror. Lucas grabbed a flashlight. “We’ll stay here till morning. She can’t reach us without power lines or signals.” Natasha didn’t reply. She was staring at the mirror, her own reflection staring back, trembling, drenched, terrified. But then… her reflection blinked twice. Out of sync. Natasha froze. “Lucas…” He turned, shining the light toward her. “What is it?” The reflection smiled, a cruel, knowing smile, before the mirror shattered into a web of cracks.

Fast. And then, like a whisper across my mind, I heard it again—the same voice that had spoken to me before at the healer’s. Push him into the mirror. I didn’t think. I lunged, shoving Darren’s body back toward the mirror. Instead of crashing through it, he vanished into the glass like smoke. Then the voice spoke again, softer, more urgent. Break the mirror. I grabbed the nearest thing I could—a mug—and hurled it at the mirror. The glass shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. I could hear screaming—his screaming—fading as the shards hit the ground.

“Broken night?” Janice questioned. She had been led in as usual, and sat, still cuffed, across the table from Byron. “Hmm?” Byron looked at her, appearing confused. “That's what my mom used to call it when nightmares or something kept waking you up— a broken night.” “Oh,” now he began to understand. “Yeah, it looks like you had one.” “You could say that for sure.” “That's okay, I did too. I was dreaming about Lacey all night, Lacey and that damn snake.”