MicroHorror

November 4, 2007

Shattered Peace

Ruby stared at the jigsaw reflection in the cracked mirror. The scraggly salt and pepper hair hanging in greasy strands, framing a face full of mocking hatred. Her own dead eyes, looking back, mimicking her mother’s soul.

The reflection of her mother’s crooked, fat-lipped mouth rocking with raucous laughter forces her gaze away from the mirror, leaves her free to wander through the house where she grew up, catching glimpses of ghosts in the corners. Her father brandishing his belt. Mother standing behind him, giggling while the belt scarred Ruby’s backside with welts.

Blood seeped from her slashed wrists, each drop echoing Mother’s voice, “Deeper, you stupid cunt. You have to slice deeper into the vein if you really want to die. Can’t you do anything right?”

Ruby pulled her sweater closer, trying to wrap her shivering body into a tight cocoon of warmth. Only warmth never existed in this house. Cruelty and hate were incarcerated here, suckling on her desire to live, urging her demise.

She drifted through the house, pacing off the memories that taunted her sanity, turning back to face the mirror where her mother’s face still lingers. Observing the familiar satisfied smirk, Ruby wondered, when did I disappear? Futile thoughts, she mused, as Mother’s face faded into oblivion, leaving Ruby to her newly found peace.

The paramedics were kneeling beside Ruby’s body, slamming her chest full of electricity, trying to bring her back. Shock after shock pounded her frail body until air ripped through her lungs, bringing her back. Screaming.

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