I ran.

I ran and I ran and I ran until my feet buckled under the pressure.

I lay on the ground for hours, feeling nothing but the cold numbness from the snow melt into my bones. The ache in my throat had now extended its claws to my stomach, growing big like an oak tree. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

'There's only so much I can take,' is what I thought when I first fought that night with Maeve.

'There's only so much I can take,' is what I thought when Natasha and Ryder stripped me off of my dignity before the world.

'There's only so much I can take,' is what I thought when Damian did what he shouldn't have done.

'There can't be anything worse than this, right?' is what I thought when my two best friends twisted the knife for the final time.

I was being rhetorical but somehow, the Universe seemed to be convinced I wasn't. Everytime I believed that it couldn't get any worse, the Universe took it up as a challenge to prove me wrong.

That it indeed could get worse.

And as I closed my eyes for the final time, all I hoped was for eternal salvation.

___________

Unfortunately, when I woke up, I was still I.

And this wasn't a nightmare.

It was reality.

The beeping of the alarm beside my bed made the ache in my throat grow ten fold. What was happening? Where was I?

"Oh good, you're awake."

I heard an unenthusiastic voice echo beside me and I turned my head instinctively and found my mother with a solemn expression.

"Mom, what happened?"

"You fell unconscious in front of the gates is what happened." She said, pouring a glass of water. I extended my hand over to grab it from her but she gulped down its contents in one go.

Slowly retracting my hand, I stared at my palms as she continued, "Your dad found you in that state while returning from work and got so worried. He suggested we go to the doctor to check for hypothermia but I said no."

"Why?" I asked, hurt evident in my voice.

"Why?" She glared at me. "Your sister's tennis match is today. We can't afford to spend the day in the hospital."

Ofcourse, it was Maeve's big day. How could I possibly ruin it with my existence?

"I've prepared food. It's in the kitchen. Just reheat it and don't forget to take the medicine for fever in case you feel hot." She suggested, getting up from the chair but I grabbed her coat from behind. My eyes welled up. I needed her in the moment. I needed my mother to comfort me and tell me that it was all going to be okay and that I wasn't wrong.

But all she said was, "Just don't be a nuisance to the housekeeper. She'll come at 11. Stay under the duvet. It's nothing serious, you'll be fine."

And without a kiss goodbye, she retraced her steps out of the room, slaming the door behind her, leaving the nuisance all by herself.

_______________

As I poured myself a cup of lukewarm water and gulped down the content in one go, I felt a strange sensation cross me.

At first, I simply thought it was the fever catching up.

But it wasn't. I was looking at myself in the mirror. The girl that stared back at me had a sinister smirk on her face, like she could tell what was going inside my head in that moment. Like she could rip apart what was left of me.

Then she spoke, "Look at you, such a pitiful character."

Ofcourse, even my reflection was mocking me.

"All that potential and yet, you sit there moping around like an injured animal. What are you waiting for, Cairo? For someone to come save you? Look around you. There's no one with you. You're all alone."

"Stop."

"Just like Maeve said, you'll end up all alone, wallowing in self pity and crying how this world didn't do you right."

"Stop it!"

"Well, let me tell you something about the world, little Cairo." She began patronizingly. "In this world, it's either screw or be screwed. No one owes you a cent here."

"Now tell me, which side would you like to be on?"

I forced my eyes shut and shook my head frivolously. This wasn't really happening. I had to be dreaming or hallucinating due to the medicines.

But how does Crocin make your reflection talk?

When I opened them again, she was still there, smiling even more sinisterly than before.

"Wha-at do you... wa-want... from me?" I stammered.

"It's not me who wants something." She answered. "It's you."

"What do you mean?"

"What they did to you,...." She began, mirroring my expression. ".... doesn't it making you angry?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Of-course...it-it does."

"Don't you want them to realise the gravity of what they did to you?"

"Y-yea."

"Don't you want them to suffer?" She asked, tilting her head. "Just like you did?"

My eyelids flickered for a moment, faltering before I responded.

"Yes."

"Then that's exactly what we'll do."

"What?"

"We'll destroy them." She smiled. "And they'll never see what hit them."

I gulped. How long was this dream gonna continue? This was already taking a weird turn-

"But first, you gotta let me take control." She said, leaning back. "Only then can we achieve what you want."

"What ki-kind of c-control?"

"Hold out your hand." She instructed and as if on cue, my right arm raised on itself and wilted towards the mirror, touching hers on the other end.

"Now breathe," she whispered as she leaned closer. I still wasn't sure of what was happening. Was I dreaming somehow?

"And utter my name. Tell me I'm in control."

"I don't know your name."

"Yes, you do, silly." She smiled seductively. "You've always known it. At the tip of your tongue."

"I don't -"

"Say it."

"Okay." I responded quickly, half terrified, shutting my eyes close, hoping to end this dream. "You're now...in control,....Cairo."

And as the last word left my lips, I felt a strange shift. It felt like I was disassociating from my own body and letting her take control of it.

The same shiver from before ran down my spine.

I quickly opened my eyes and found my non-verbal reflection staring back at me.

With the addition of the same sinister smile.

___________

"It's screw or be screwed."

Hours later as I painted my nails black, the words rang in my head. Again and again.

Flipping my hair, I propped myself on the bed and stared at the mirror right in front of me.

How long had it been since I've seen myself....truly seen myself?

Without the pathetic loser staring back at me.

It felt so freeing. To finally...breathe.

With determined steps, I slowly pulled out the whiteboard behind my closet and before I knew it, I had drawn a chart of the 6 people that had managed to make my life a living hell in the past one year. I penned down each of their crimes, numbering them based on the severity of their betrayal.

Bernadette was on top, followed by Miles, Nat, Damian, Maeve, and Ryder.

As I stared at their names, all kinds of ideas lining up in my head, somewhere a knot was still present in my stomach.

"Aren't you angry? Don't you want them to suffer like you did?"

The voice kept echoing in my head. Why should I feel guilty about this?Had they thought about me even once when they did all those things to destroy my esteem?

Why must I?

I know what you might say, that all these people could have good enough reasons behind their behaviours, why they did what they did. You may say that "oh we only know your point of view, what if they were actually going through something that made them act that way towards you?"

And to that, I'll say,

"I couldn't give two flying fucks."

What if Bernadette just wanted validation because she had felt unseen before?

What if Nat spread that rumor because deep down she was insecure?

What if Ryder had a bad home life that pushed him to take it out on others?

What if Damian truly had felt misled?

What if my sister Maeve just desperately wanted to feel loved by someone like Felix?

What if Miles had unresolved feelings that he wanted me to notice?

What if?

What if?

What if?

Riddle me this, is it okay to kill someone if you have a good enough reason?

Is life really a justification ordeal?

So what if Nat was insecure, was it my fault? Or did I somehow make Maeve feel unloved? So what if Nathaniel was forced to lick patriarchy's boots since he was a child? What if Miles had feelings for me? What if Bernadette just wanted to fit in?

HOW WAS ANY OF IT MY RESPONSIBILITY????

Your trauma doesn't give you the fucking right to purposefully ruin someone's life. People face bad things every day, and yet they manage to be kind to each other. Being an asshole is not what you're born with or who you become. It's a choice.

They chose to do whatever they did to me, so I fucking apologise if I feel no fucking remorse about what I'm about to do. I'm justified to my bones. I believe that.

I don't need anyone else to.

__________

well this was a chapter.

if anyone doesn't get the mirror symbolism, please feel free to ask me any questions in the comments!

I'll be more than happy to answer!

xoxo,
Bosedisha