Within

Synopsis

The creative piece is set in the Cotswolds and written in omniscient narrative style.

It focuses on twin sisters, Imogen and Jasmine. Jasmine hates her sister who does not really exist now.

Imogen thinks she is normal and a detective whereas really she is the  one who is ill . When Imogen was younger her parents died, which disrupted her growing up. When Jasmine dies too, Imogen can’t cope and so her brain makes up its own alternative personalities to deal with the reality she can’t face.  The death of her parents initiated the emergence of a ‘spilt personality’ but was more recognizable when Jasmine died: this was a stress factor which made her appear  crazy.

Chapter 1 is her hallucination period where she thinks she is interviewing a prisoner.

Chapter 5 is set in the present time and she is actually talking to a Psychiatrist about events that have happened: she stills thinks her sister is alive.

The intervening chapters are written in a diary format to give the readers a sense of time.

This story is not finished yet.

Chapter 1

                                                 Imogen (Present day)

She grabs her coffee from her desk and brushes her long blonde hair away from her eyes. She walks at ease towards the room and opens the door to a man who is sitting at the desk with a smug look on his face. He’s tall and quite handsome, with scruffy, short hair and brown eyes. She walks towards him and sits on the chair opposite. The room is painted grey all the way around with a window at the end.

He is looking at her with a smirk. Imogen stares at him thinking how dare he look at her like that and who the hell does he think he is? Sometimes she hates her job but someone has GOT to put these bastards behind bars. 

Imogen cannot bear that grin anymore. She gets up, walks around the table towards him, puts her foot right next to his chair and leans into him. He looks up and the smile is gone: he looks unsure as to what this crazy woman is doing. She grabs the chair and throws it backwards sending him to the floor.

She screams at him ‘HOW DID YOU DO IT, YOU BASTARD? I KNOW IT WAS YOU!’

Imogen feels weird but she does not know what’s going on, it feels like something is taking over her and she can’t stop it but it feels good and she does not want it to stop. She feels exhilarated. Imogen can hear a faint voice but she is not sure where it’s coming from and does not know what it is saying.

He screams ‘WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, BITCH!’ and is in complete shock. He’s never met this woman before; what the fuck is going on? She looks up with a grin on her face and puts her hand in her pocket. She grabs an object and puts it to the man’s neck, digging it in fiercely. It’s long, thin, with a sharp end that looks like a letter opener.  He tries to break free but he can’t: he keeps wriggling. The knife presses harder into his neck, causing it to bleed a little.

He shouts in a trembly voice ‘Get off me, bitch, you’re insane.’ She shouts at him to sit still and she smiles. Her eyes are now serious and dark, her whole face is changing colour. She is incredibly wild, out of control, seems overwhelmed with this new power. She feels invincible.  She presses the knife even harder against his throat and asks him if he has any last wishes. Before he answers, she moves the knife away and with one quick swipe, she slits his throat. 

His blood drips everywhere. Drops of blood can be heard hitting the ground. It sounds just like rain drops: splat, splat and she can hear the gentle gurgling of blood from his mouth. She moves to the front of him and kicks the chair to the floor. Bringing the knife to her mouth, she licks the remaining blood from it and makes a humming noise like she is enjoying the taste, then licks her lips. She smiles and says, ‘That’s for killing her, you bastard’. Imogen walks back out of the room as if nothing has happened.

                                                        Chapter 5

        (Present day)  Imogen

With a dejected air she walks over to the office. Her hair is worn, discoloured, greasy and lifeless. She is wearing pale blue trousers and a black, long-sleeved top with a picture of a guitar on it and a pair of trainers that look tattered. She takes a bottle of water as she walks by the desk and enters the room.

The man is sitting down at his desk: he is tall, very handsome and mysterious with his green eyes and black hair. He seems to have a friendly face because he is smiling at her with a soft demeanour. He may have a friendly face but she can see straight through it. He moves from his desk and takes a seat on his black leather chair. She walks towards him but makes no contact with his eyes and moves towards his sofa.

She knows he is smiling at her, she can feel it on her cheeks. Imogen says to herself, ‘You bastard, stop it.’ She wants to shout at him but something is stopping her from doing it. She feels herself walking towards his chair and her hand is in her back pocket. Imogen goes to him and slides her hand out of her pocket. She thrusts the metal emery board to his throat. She is going to tear his bloody throat out; who the hell does he think he is looking at her like that.

The guard, who was concealed at the back of the room, suddenly grabs her hand and bends it back making her drop the object. She screams in pain as he throws her to the floor and he grabs both of her hands. He puts a pair of cuffs on. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her head up.

‘STOP!’ Dr Philips shouts.

The guard says ‘Dr Philips, you okay? I am sorry; this is not going to happen again. I am going to take her back to her room.’ He manhandles her and walks towards the door.

Dr Philips says in a stern voice, ‘Its fine, Edwards. I am fine. No, don’t, she will be fine now. If you wait outside I will call you if I need you.

The guard starts to hesitate ‘But’….

‘No buts. She’s got her handcuffs on and she is not going to do it again, are you Imogen?’ He walks back to his desk while he’s talking to both of them.

She looks at him and does not say anything. She wonders why he is so confident. Imogen feels agitated so she starts to pick and play with her fingers.

The guard leaves the room and they both sit there quietly as if they both are gathering their thoughts. Dr Phillips watches her for a few seconds then leans forward.

‘Right, let’s try again. We got off on the wrong foot; obviously it was something I did. I am sorry if I offended you in any way,’ Dr Philips says.

She does not say anything and carries on gazing at the floor. Imogen hears the voice again saying: ‘Does he not know who I am, I don’t need him to analyse me. They have the wrong person, it’s my sister they want, and she’s insane.’ The voice stops and Imogen thinks she could not have said that better herself and she can see he is ready to talk again.

Dr Philips starts to talk ‘Alright, Imogen, you can stop this session at any time and the guard is outside so I know you will not try to attack me. My name is Dr Paul Philips but you can call me Paul. Do you know why you’re here?’

Imogen glares at him now, her eyes are on fire. ‘Of course I don’t why I am here. Your imbeciles dragged me out of work while I was interviewing a man on murder charges,’ she says as she is dragging her fingers down the sofa impatiently.

Dr Philips calmly says ‘Imogen, you were not at work, you were found in your flat sitting next to the dead body of Roger Jones.’  He watches her closely waiting for a reaction but her eyes still stay fixed on the floor.

Imogen’s voice starts to tremble a little ‘I don’t understand what’s going on. I swear I was at work. I can’t remember being at my sister’s flat. You got it wrong, it’s my sister you’re after, she’s the crazy one.’ She knows exactly what he’s trying to do to her; he’s trying to confuse her. Like she does to her detainees.

‘Ok, Imogen, tell me bit about yourself and your sister,’ he says as he takes a sip of water.

What does he want from me? she mumbles under her breath. Imogen decides to keep him happy and be the helpful person she is. Her body starts to soften as she tells him where she grew up, which was the Cotswolds. How she loves how quiet it is and everyone is kind. Her favourite part is the bridge with a stream running through it with rocks you can walk on and she likes to lie on the grass and listen to the water trickle.  Her entire demeanour looks different. It’s changed from picking and playing with her fingers and she is more relaxed now.

‘I am 28 years old and I have a twin sister, she is not like me. I have a fantastic career as a detective and she works as a poxy waitress. She’s not like me. I am lucky, she is crazy and she tried to kill herself several times. She’s as rough as hell, not like me, I am normal but I do try to be there for her and I have to be there for my family, don’t I?’

He looks at her in a concerned manner, walks over to his desk, grabs a file and another glass of water. He walks back to the chair and they are both quiet. He flicks at the file and then closes it and puts his hands to his mouth.

 Dr Philip’s face looks serious now as he starts to talk ‘Right Imogen. That’s great, thank you. There are some things I want to talk about and please tell me if I am wrong.’

She nods her head for him to carry on, while talking to herself saying ‘of course he’s wrong. Why am I even here?’ Something inside her wants to reach out to him and slam his head across his desk until he stops breathing. She is empowered and can’t control this feeling, it feels good. She tries to get her hands loose but it just is not happening; she is starting to feel frustrated. She once more starts pulling at her fingers one by one. She does not feel like herself. It’s as if someone else is trying to take over her body.

Dr Philips starts to talk again, ‘I have your file here. It says your sister, Jasmine, died five years ago in a car accident. Imogen rolls her eyes as she starts to laugh. ‘Your sister died instantly and you were in a coma for six days.  Do you remember this, Imogen?’

Imogen stares at him, still laughing. She thinks this is ridiculous. She does not want to talk to him but humours him, interested to see what other lies he will come up with next. ‘I saw her the other day; she was in hospital because she tried to commit suicide again. Stupid cow, she can never do it properly.  Sometimes I wish she would talk to me but she hates my guts. I am the last person she would turn to.’

‘Fine, I see. We’ll come back to that. Shall I carry on?’ he says.

She nods her head.

‘Ok, I’ll carry on but I would like to hear your opinion when I have finished.’

Dr Philips carries on with the questioning. Imogen just sits there and answers when he asks her thoughts and opinions but then Dr Philips changes his questions to see if he gets a reaction from her. He asks Imogen what happened to her mum and dad. She glares at him with hatred but there are tears in her eyes.  She closes them and sits still, picking at her fingers and humming as if in a trance. Dr Philips snaps his fingers at Imogen when she does not answer. She jumps slightly and the humming stops. Her eyes then open: they look far away, dull and sad. She then moves her legs up to her chin and places her hands on her chest while muttering ‘They just won’t stop talking to me.’ A tear rolls down her face. Imogen sits in this position for half an hour.

Dr Philips watches her for a while, shocked by the sudden emotion. He feels he has made a breakthrough with her. 

Eventually he gets up and calls the guard back in, who pulls her roughly to her feet.

They leave the psychiatrist’s room in silence and she is escorted back to the psyche ward.  Imogen now looks lost and bewildered, she can’t believe what’s happening to her and she can’t seem to comprehend what Dr Philips has just told her. She can’t seem to recall what happened in the last half hour. It does not seem to make sense to her because she is not ill she is normal, it’s her sister who has this disease. But suddenly her mind starts to wander back to this morning and all she can remember is walking into a room and meeting Dr Philips and attacking him. She tries to think harder but she can’t remember going to the police station. It dawns on her that she was never there and she never was interviewing that guy and killing him: it was just an hallucination or a bad dream but then Dr Philips had told her she was sitting next to a dead body. Imogen feels mad, she does not know who she is and what’s real and what’s not any more.

Imogen walks into the building and looks up: the walls are white like a radiator. The doors are also white, with a window, and the tops all have locks on them. She walks by the main reception where there are two nurses dressed in white chatting to each other. One has an eye patch on her right eye. They stop talking and stare at Imogen.

The woman with the eye patch mumbles ‘Bitch’ under her breath and says to the other nurse, ‘She will pay for what she did to me’. Imogen is confused and  wondering who is this  woman.

The nurse walks up to Imogen, only inches away from her face ‘You’d better watch yourself because I can do things to you when you are not even aware. Just be careful when you’re asleep’ and the nurse punches her in the stomach.

Imogen goes down to the floor, holding her stomach. Her shoulders go tense and when she looks up she has a big smirk on her face. ‘Now we’re talking.’ She sees a needle in the nurse’s hand. She lunges towards her, knocking the guard to the floor.

The nurse looks stunned and shouts for the assistant to press the buzzer for help. Imogen grabs the needle with her mouth and stabs the nurse in the neck. The nurse falls to the floor and Imogen jumps on her, opens her mouth and reaches to her neck and bites it.

There are three guards running towards her. They grab her and, as she stands up, she has a chunk of skin in her mouth. She spits it out and licks the blood from her lips.

The guard screams, ‘Imogen, what the hell have you done?’

 She looks at them and says ‘I am not fucking Imogen, I am Jas. She’s a fucking whore and nobody.’

They grab a second needle, inject her arm. She screams, ‘Get the fuck off me!’

The guards are taken aback by what has just happened; then Dr Philips runs in and sees the nurse on the floor. The blood is spurting out of her neck where a big piece of skin is missing. Her body is lifeless from the injection.

Dr Philips snaps ‘What the hell has just happened?’ He then  shouts to the  guards: ‘QUICK, GET HER TO THE INFIRMARY. I WILL BE THERE SHORTLY.’ He moves towards Imogen, who now is sitting on the floor, quiet at last. Her whole body and face looks frail. She goes back to rocking and humming like she was earlier.

‘Jas, can you hear me? It’s Dr Paul Philips. Do you know why you have done this to Nurse Green?

Imogen comes out of her trance and goes back to her confused self, says ‘Why are you calling me, Jas? I am Imogen. Who is Nurse Green and what happened?

She is pale  and he can see that Jas has gone and Imogen has returned. He feels sorry for her. She has not got a clue as to who she is or what is happening to her. 

‘Guards, take her back to her room, she looks shattered and I will see her later’, Dr Philips says as he walks to the infirmary.

‘Yes, sir, our pleasure,’ mutters the guard.

They drag Imogen to her cell, open the door and throw her in. She hits her head on the floor and they turn around, ‘It serves you right. Watch your back, miss, or we will get you for hurting one of our own’. They slam the door and walk away.

 Imogen looks at the door and towards the wall. There is a picture of her family. She puts her face in her hands and cries.

 She hears the voice in her head again and it’s telling her to go under her bed. Find a piece of brick that is loose. She finds it, reaches into it and pulls out a letter opener, like the one in her hallucination. The voice tells her to put the weapon to her wrists. Her body tenses, although she desperately tries to ignore it, but it gets stronger and she can’t resist it. She lashes at her left wrist seven times and does the same to the right wrist. The blood goes everywhere. She feels lightheaded and falls to the floor.

Two hours later Dr Philips opens the door and Imogen is lying on the cold floor that has now turned red. He runs to the body and it is lifeless.

Imogen’s body is now placed in the infirmary. It’s very dark down here and there are two other bodies in black bags. They are getting ready to be taken to the mortuary. The large metal doors creak as Nurse Green comes in .She hobbles to  the bag and  a large white patch covers the hole in her neck. She stares at the bag and says ‘You had it coming you crazy bitch.’

 Suddenly the bag starts to move: she thinks she is seeing things so she closes her eyes . She opens them and screams ‘Oh shit.’

Word count: 3074

Granddad

My granddad had a big fat belly

Big ears which were long and floppy,

Big eyes that were bulging and  bright

His head was as bald as an egg

His smile made me feel happy

His cuddles were warm and soft like a teddy bear

My Granddad  would always be there to listen

And give you support.

He was brave and bold

Until he turned frail and old

He became a person he was not

My Granddad  would  always sit in his chair

And was always there

Until one day he was gone.

There sat an empty, lonely chair

 All alone with no one to care.

A week went by and another week

And still he  was not there

Where has my granddad gone?

Wrath

My name is Kate Horsedale, this is my story .Not sure where to begin so I’ll start with the night it happened.

The phone rings, it makes me jump. I knock over my glass of water as I try to find the lamp. I lean over the bed to reach my phone while taking a glance at the clock: its 2.00am in the morning. Who the hell could it be at this hour?

‘Hello’

‘Is that Miss Horsedale?’

‘Yes who the hell is this?’

‘We need you to come down the hospital right now; it’s about your sister.’

‘My God what’s happened? Tell me damn it.

‘There’s no time, you need to get here right now and we will fill you in when you get here’.

‘Ok.’

I stare at the floor and sob my heart out. Come on, Kate, you need to get your act together and get in the car. I grab some leggings from the floor and throw a jumper on too. Grab my keys and bag. Stumble out the door in a daze. It should take 20 minutes to get there. I jump in the car and the adrenaline kicks in and I am doing 60mph down a 30mph road and going through red lights. I don’t care; I need to get there to my sister.  Everything flashes through my head: what if she’s dead? No, I shake it off. I can’t think like that. She’s going to be okay. I dump the car in the hospital bay. Somebody shouts at me.

‘Hey, miss, you can’t leave it there’.

‘Yes, I can and I just did, asshole’.

I run off to the reception. I barge in front of a man and elbow him out of the way. ‘Where’s my sister, Lindsey Horesdale?’

‘Hey, I was here first go back to the queue like the rest of us.’

The nurse tries to calm us both down and from nowhere my fist hits his face; he stumbles back and lands on a chair.

‘Security!’

“It’s ok, Nurse Jane, I will deal with this. Miss Horsedale come with me.’

My hand looks red and I shake my head. ‘No, where is my sister? I am not going anywhere until someone tells me where the hell she is.’

Suddenly I hit the glass window in anger, glass smashes all over the floor and I just stare in amazement. What have I done, I am so angry and frustrated I just want some bloody answers.  The doctor stares at me. 

‘Don’t move, I need to get bandages and wipes for your hand’.

I stare at my hand as it drips with blood. It’s the same hand I hurt when I smacked that guy. I don’t feel any pain at all; my body begins to shake with anger.  I look up: security men are running towards me, they try to rugby tackle me to the ground. I jump out of the way and one of them manages to grab my foot. I look around and grab the nearest thing to me. I hit him over the head with the chair.

‘WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, STOP RIGHT NOW!” the doctor is standing looking at me with his mouth wide open. I put the chair on the floor and the two men stagger from the floor.

‘She’s ok, she is with me, her sister is very poorly, she’s obviously very upset and out of control, she is hurt. I will sort her out and she won’t be any more trouble, will you?’

The security guards look at me in disgust and walk off.

I look at him and nod my head. I don’t feel right and I start to  drop to the floor:  he grabs me, picks  me up and takes me  to a clinic room .

‘Let’s get this hand sorted so you can see your sister. You truly have anger management issues’.

I laugh.

‘Right, you need to calm down  before you go  in.  We are going there now but I need to talk to you about your sister’s condition. You can see her now but she is in a really bad state.’

I am about to walk in the room when, for the first time, I notice there are police all over the hospital. What’s going on? I then see my sister lying in the bed hooked up to tubes and her face is all bruised.  I run to her and hold her hand, sobbing. I raise my head and realise she’s on a life support machine. She lies there so lifeless. She does not look like my sister.

‘What happened doctor?’

‘The police want to talk to you but I think you should stay here with your sister for a while’.

‘Why, she’s going to be ok isn’t she?’ I grip her hand tighter.

‘Lindsay’s in a critical condition, she has lost a lot of blood. She was shot four times: once in the chest, back, back of the head and leg.’

‘What?’

‘We took her into theatre to get the bullets out and to operate. She has brain damage and major internal injuries.  Lindsey is not breathing by herself and there Is no brain activity. She can no longer hear, Kate, but you have to make the decision to turn the life support off: if you do, it will be a matter of minutes.’

‘I can’t believe this. WHY HER?’

I put my head in my hands and think. I cannot let her suffer, she is my only sister. Why did I not come to see you sooner, I have been so wrapped up in my own life.  ‘You can turn it off, but first, I want to talk to the police’.

‘Ok. I will get them, Kate.’

‘Is it Kate? I am Detective Jones and this is Detective Beans.’

‘Yes it is.’

‘We would like to talk to you outside.’

‘OK. ‘ 

I kiss Lindsay on the cheek and follow the detectives to the corridor where they sit me down.

‘Kate, your sister was murdered. This is now a murder investigation’.

‘Who would kill my sister? .Everyone loves her. She’s the good one.’

‘Are you sisters?’

‘Yes, we are identical twin sisters. Why?’

 ‘That makes sense now, they must have made a mistake, Detective Beans’

‘What do you mean, mistake, SPEAK TO ME NOT EACH OTHER!’

‘Sorry, we have evidence that suggests that you were meant to be the victim not your sister.  They thought Lindsey was you.’

‘What, what evidence?’

‘We can’t say right now, it is only speculation but a witness has just come forward, that’s all we know . Do you have any enemies, Kate?’

‘I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS. I NEED TO BE WITH MY SISTER!’ I scream and run off towards her room. The doctor is there, ready to turn off the life support machine.

‘Are you ready, Kate?’

Yes, please, leave me for a while.’

He unhooks her mouth piece, turns off the machine and walks out the door. She looks more like Lindsay now, without all the tubes.  Oh, Lindsay what have I done? It should be me lying there, not you. They will pay for this; I won’t stop until I avenge your death. With that, Lindsey takes her last breath. I just lie next to her, cuddling her, sobbing and shouting with anger and frustration. They will pay, even if I have to kill them with my bare hands.

This is the day my life ends. I shall find out who did this and kill them with my bare  hands.

I run to my car. I notice a note stuck on the windscreen. I grab it and throw it in the front seat. I drive home as fast as I possibly can. I finally get there. I run out of the car and as I get to the front door, it’s wide open. I shout, but no-one answers. The house has been ransacked. I run to the bed and move the mattress and the rest out of the way. I run to the toilet and find a knife and get on my hands and knees and rip the floor boards until .I get to a wooden box and pull the key off my necklace. I open it, and there sits my revolver and black book. I grab the book. Right, I had better start at the beginning. Now it is time to find out which one of you maniacs   killed my sister.

I grab my bag and notice a note stuck to it. I reach for it and read it:     

‘I know what you did; you are completely out of control Kate. IT WAS YOU.

What, what the hell, I did what?  I read the letter over and over again.  It does not make sense. I run out to my car I have not got time for this, I need to find the bastards who killed my sister.

There, standing by my car, are Detective Beans and Jones. I move the gun into my bag and head towards them.

‘Kate, you need to stay where you are.’

‘Why?’ I am so angry right now; get out of my way I need to go. I see something moving in the back of the police car.

‘Kate, you’re not going anywhere, you’re coming with us.’

The car doors open and the doctor from earlier on is there and someone else is there in the shadows. I put my hand on the gun.

What’s going on! Are they really the police or are they the ones who killed my sister and they’re now going to get me? I start to panic and I can feel the adrenalin all over my body: how the hell could they do this to me.

‘Kate, you need to take your hands out of your bag and hold them up, come on Kate, we don’t want anyone to get hurt.’

‘I bet you don’t, you bent coppers.’ I spit at them and pull the gun out of the bag. I can feel my anger surging and my finger presses down on the trigger. Out of nowhere I am thrown on the floor and I hit my head on the grass.  I feel like I have been hit by a bullet.

Someone runs out in front of me, he looks familiar, I look up and oh, my, it’s Jeff. Oh, how I love him. 

‘Kate, why did you do it? I loved her you bitch, you were always jealous of her, you always wanted what she had but you were nothing, you’re mental Kate.’

‘That’s enough, Mr Wellington, she’s not well, we need to take her in and examine her.’

What, I don’t get what’s going on, I look up and it’s the doctor from the hospital.

‘We need to question her first doctor.’

‘Ok, but I am coming with her.’

‘Ok, Kate can you hear me?’ shouts detective Beans

‘Yes, you asshole, get this thug off me and what the hell is going on?  What is Jeff going on about?’

‘Kate, you‘re under arrest for the murder of your sister.’

‘What, me, no you got the wrong person, someone is after me, they wrecked my house and look at my book it has a list of my enemies in there.’

Detective Beans grabs my book, and looks through it, while the other Detective goes through my house.

‘Sir, the house is fine, it’s in perfect order, but I think  you need to see this.’

They pick me  up and  take me  into  my house and there on the walls,  are photos of Lindsey and  Jeff but  Lindsey has been scrubbed out. On every photo it says die in big red writing. It says I am going to make you pay, bitch.

‘Kate, there is nothing in your book; the only enemy in there is your sister’.

What’s going on, then like a whirlwind, I am furious and I shout:

 ‘I am glad she is dead. She deserved to die.

 

                                                

The Mirror

 I find myself walking round town at 9.00 in the morning. Soaked to the bone. Normally I am in my rocking chair with a drop of whiskey, that’s all I have usually but today is different: I plod round the shops. When I come by an unfamiliar cobble path, something pulls me towards it.  The shops and the bustle disappear. The pavement bendy and dark. It stops just as quickly as it came. I look behind me: the path has disappeared, then I look straight in front of me, there is a shop. It’s covered with wind chimes. The noise hurts my ears! I wish it would stop.

I have had enough of this so I turn around, I don’t want to go in there, it looks very peculiar. As I am about to go, I hit my head on the brick wall which was not there before. There’s nowhere to go. Oh fiddle sticks; I am going to have to go in this spooky old shop. Well, I had better get some Dutch courage first.  I perch myself on the floor just staring at the shop; it does not look like there is anyone in there. I fumble about in my bag. Oh blast, you had better be in there and eventually my bony hands locate the bottle. I take the lid off and take a big, massive gulp and wipe my mouth with my hand to remove any excess whiskey.  Then screw the lid back on: oh, one more would not hurt, would It Pearl, so I take another gulp. Now I am ready to go in this freaky shop. Come on, Pearl, hop to it. I start to stumble as I get to the shop and end up falling through the door.  Maybe I should not have had that last drop I chuckle to myself.

There in the shop is a beautiful mirror with diamonds all around it.  I can’t keep my eyes away. I hear a voice from behind me, saying:

 ‘Come in and take a look around.’

I glance around quickly but there is no one to be seen and I can see  sparkling in  the corner of my eye, so I go  towards  the  mirror and  see me; but is it me, I look different .  I have long, black hair flowing on my shoulders, with striking, green eyes and my skin does not look wrinkled anymore. I look young and radiant and I am wearing a long, black dress with a black pointed hat.  I look beautiful and mysterious.  The voice comes back soft and quiet:

‘You came here for a reason; you were looking for something in particular?’ Weren’t    you, Pearl?

I feel like I am under some sort of spell but it feels wonderful; maybe I am drunk and I shall wake up in a minute: go with it, girl , it won’t harm you.  I nod my head.

I am drawn to the mirror again .The voice tells me to look at my hand through the mirror.

There, in my hand is this vial bottle. It’s red with pearls all around it: it looks so small and dainty.

I take my eyes away for a minute and look at my hand and it has disappeared: what’s happening?

The voice tells me to drink but there is nothing here, so I grab my bottle  from my bag and take a  gulp of  whiskey but when I look in the mirror I am holding the vial bottle and this time I take an even bigger sip  . It tastes nasty.  I fall to the floor, crashing on the mirror.

OH!  My head hurts; I rub my head then my eyes. Where am I?  My eyes start to clear and then I realise where I am. I am on my rocking chair, nursing a hangover and it is still raining outside. I glance at the clock and it’s 1.00 in the morning .Blimey!  I have been a sleep for ages. I must have been dreaming, how weird. Maybe I should stay off the whiskey. I laugh; don’t be silly, Pearl, that is a crazy idea.  I go to grab my bottle out of my bag but instead I am holding the vial bottle, just like in the dream. It’s bright red with pearls, exactly the same. I throw the bottle to the floor. I must be dreaming again.  I run to the mirror .Oh my, what’s going on?

I look in to it and instead of my old face and grey hair; it is the woman I saw earlier with black hair, soft silky face and striking green eyes. I put my wrinkled hand to my face; it still feels dry and old. Then I hear the voice:

’ Pearl, look closely in to the mirror’.

‘What’s going on’?

‘Look, deep and hard,’ the voice fades.

Ok, Pearl look. There I am sitting in a chair, fast asleep with a bottle in my hand and in my old body and there, standing over me, is a man in uniform talking to a woman.  All of a sudden they are violently shaking me but I don’t seem to be waking up and the bottle falls out of my hand. I turn away. What’s going on? I can’t help myself but look again. My skin has changed colour and my body looks lifeless. I glance at the bottle; it is the red vial bottle. I hear the voice again:

 ‘Pearl, don’t you get it yet? You’re dead, you poisoned yourself!’

‘What, no I am dreaming again’. I don’t understand.

The man and woman walk straight past me and there’s a group of old people coming out of their rooms in their dressing gowns. It’s my friends. Thank goodness.  I run over and shout at them but no one’s listening to me.

‘They can’t hear you Pearl, you’re dead.’

‘No, I can’t be!’

‘Come and join me.’

‘How?’

‘Go to the mirror and walk into it and your questions will be answered’

This is silly. I walk right up to it and put my hand through first.  It disappears and then I feel something forceful pulling me through the mirror.

NOOOOOOO!

Mirco fiction

He  is sitting on the train in a booth, glaring at the distance looking out  the widow with a tear slowing falling down his cheek.  He turns to look at his hands and sees blood dripping from them . In the background somebody screams . He gets up and runs to where its coming from. A women is standing  holding her face, looking into the toilet . Two bodies  are lying next to each other. The bodies are unrecognizable. You cant tell  who they are.

The lady turns  looks at the man and notices his hands dripping with blood

 ‘Oh no what’s happening’

She screams ‘murder’

He runs back to the booth and as he gets there he feels something going into  his  neck: he falls  onto the floor .

Myself in 44 years’ time

It’s 6’o clock and I am not ready, meant to be out at 6.30pm. A night on the tiles, just what the doctor ordered. Right let’s get ready. I look in to the mirror: my skin looks soft and shiny. I look away for a second to get my foundation and I glance back in the mirror to find a face which is no longer sickly and soft but wrinkled and old. Her eyes look dull and sad, with large circles underneath her eyes. She looks so fragile. She turns away from the mirror. I press my hand against the mirror and it disappears though and I feel myself drawn to this woman so  I enter the rest of my  body through the mirror.  I am now in this huge bedroom with flowery paper and it has a bay window with a grey rocking chair. There sits the lady, looking out of the window and I can see sand and sea. She looks away from it and looks straight at me.

“Please sit, Emma.”

She can see me and she knows my name but I do what she asks, there is something particular about her.  I feel like I know her from somewhere.

“I have been waiting for you to arrive”

“Who are you, do I know you?”

Before she answers I smell salt and seaweed. I look up and we are now sitting on the beach.  The chair  I sit on is now white with a weird  design  on it and the table in front of me  with the same  pattern and  she sits opposite me pouring us a drink which looks like Pimms

“Do you not know who I am?.”

“No but I feel like I know you”

She reaches out and touches my hand it feels rough, dry and wrinkly. I feel a shiver go up my back .I  look at her hand and she has a white, gold ring with diamonds on her wedding finger and a ring shaped like a bee, which is sliver with two stones missing. I lift my left hand up and our rings our identical and there are also scars on her hand in the same place as mine.

“Don’t be scared I am your older self and I have come to warn you of something that is going to happen in  years’ time”.

One click of mouse

It takes one click

One click of mouse

That’s all it takes.

Its amazing, how one little gadget

 Can control

Your life .

I must get this application sent. All the stress and hard work I have put in. So why can't I click mouse. It dawns on me my life is going to completely change. Can I really leave my friends and family behind? It would be different if I was moving to the next city but I am moving to the other side of the world and I have not told a living soul.

If I press the mouse it will determine my life for good.

Freya comes flying at me for a cuddle and licks my face with such excitement and bang! The kids are playing on drums next door. I shout shut up and bang my fist repeatedly on the wall, which frightens poor Freya to bits and instead of jumping off the chair, she jumps right for my mouse and clicks the button. Nooooooo!

Freya runs for her bed. Oh no , hopefully my application is okay. I walk straight for the computer and on the  screen it flashes in big bold red letters SENT.

I kneel down and put  my hands into my face and sob my heart out. Freya comes walking over and knocks my hand away so she can lick my face. She rolls over on her belly so I give her stroke and I tell her it’s not her fault. You did me a favor because I would never have sent it. Now my fate has been left to the gods.

Two weeks later I am sitting at my desk at home, Freya is fast asleep on her  bed. I take a sip put of my coffee while glancing at the internet. My email box flashes one new email. I log in to my msn account, there in black writing sits the words!  Your application has been approved and finalized.

I hear a knock at the door and jump, accidently dropping my coffee on my keyboard and down my trousers. Ahh shit! That’s hot as I jump up and down trying to wipe the  coffee off me. The knocking gets louder and louder.

‘Suzanne, I know you’re in there, open the bloody door. It’s freezing out here.’

‘I am coming, hang on, Jane, I have just spilt bloody coffee over myself’

‘Well, that was silly.’

I open the door and shout at her ‘I bloody know you cow, it’s your fault I did it in the first place.’ We both burst out laughing.

‘Coffee?’

‘Yes, please’

She goes to sit down at the coffee table and Freya  comes  over to see her for a  stroke.

‘Suz, what’s this about application? What are you not telling me ?

Shit, I drop the milk in shock  she was not meant to see that. Oh god what do I do  now?