Written 11th August
Oneshot
Reflections
Newt stared at the mirror. He wasn't seeing himself. He didn't know what he was seeing. Everything was blank.
He had killed Jack.
"You finally realised the truth, then?" came a harsh voice, but Newt didn't jump. He knew Eli would have come here eventually. "You finally realised that you are a murderer?"
Newt nodded slowly. Eli had been write about most things, now that he thought about it.
"I told you that you had it in you. You could have walked away, let him be, but no. You kept pushing."
Newt shivered slightly. Eli was right. Eli was always right. He felt Eli sit down beside him on the bed.
"You shouldn't be here," Newt said softly, "If they found you here they'd take you away."
"I'd kill the lot of them."
"They keep saying... that you're not real. They think I'm mad. They keep saying I made you up," Newt turned a little on the bed, and Eli could see the tears in his eyes.
"You can't make up someone like me. I'm better than the lot of them," Eli said, loudly and confidently, as he stood up. Newt grabbed his arm.
"Not so loud! They'll come in!"
Eli said nothing, but sat back down. Then he put his arm around Newt, and said hoarsly, "It's you and me against the world, Newtus. We'll show 'em."
Newt nodded shakily. Eli suddenly stood up, and Newt knew why. He could hear footsteps, and Eli quickly exited the room as though he had simply disappeared...
"Barry, I heard you talking to yourself," the psychologist said firmly. Newt shook his head, hating the fact that he had used his real name. Then he rolled over in bed as the other left.
Deep down inside, he felt that the doctors might be right. Eli... might not be real. Newt realised suddenly that he had never seen Eli approach or leave, only that he was there.
Maybe, just maybe... he and Eli were the same person. Two sides of the same coin. A mirror and its reflection.
