Girl In The Mirror.

By Dark Magician Girl of Chaos.

Dark Magician Girl Of Chaos: Konichiwa! Long time no see, ne? It's not really an excuse, but, college has been a pain.

Magician Of Black Chaos: You're right, it's not an excuse.

Dark Magician Girl Of Chaos: Shut up you.

Anyway. I've been writing this during my free periods at college. It may not seem as if it's related to Yu-Gi-Oh! but it actually is, just be a little patient with me, please, I'll get there. It was inspired by Britney Spears' 'Girl In The Mirror'. However. I think that it feels a little darker than that. Shrugs. Well, that's the feeling that I got as I was writing it.

Chaos, disclaimer please.

Magician Of Black Chaos: Dark Magician Girl Of Chaos does not, in any way, shape or form, own Yu-Gi-Oh, but thanks Kazuki Takahashi for creating it. She does not own 'Girl In The Mirror' by Britney Spears either.

Dark Magician Girl Of Chaos: I don't think there's anything I need to warn you about in this, so if anyone finds anything, let me know and I'll add a warning.

Finally. This is dedicated to Naïve Goth, just to say thanks for writing all the stories she does, because she does a very good job of it.

That's it from me, read, enjoy (I hope) and review please thank you!

It's raining.

I don't need to look outside to know that. I can hear the raindrops against my window.

I'm not sure what the time is.

I'm not even sure what day it is.

I would look outside, but, I don't feel like moving, and I don't feel like opening my curtains.

It's…Soothing, sitting here in the dark.

Sitting here on the edge of the bed I haven't slept in for awhile, holding my knees close to my chest, to stop the pain escaping, to stop reality sinking in.

Just sitting and staring.

Staring at my floor-length, ornate mirror, with dragons coiled around it instead of a boring old frame.

I've been staring for so long, my vision has gone blurry.

I blink. Once, twice, three times. A few seconds later, I can see a reflection of a girl in my mirror.

I don't know who she is.

She's pale, very pale, and she has dark circles under her eyes.

Eyes that seems to tell a story.

I don't think she's slept nor eaten much recently.

Her face is tear-stained, dried black kohl on her cheeks. Her hair is a dark, dirty shade of blonde, it looks unkempt.

I don't think she's washed for a few days.

I blink again, look away from the stranger in my mirror, and look down at the ottoman at my feet.

In the dark, I can make out the silhouette of a plate of untouched food. I don't know what it is, nor how long it's been there. Although, judging by the lack of stench, I'd say not long.

I go back to staring at my mirror.

Time passes. Again, I don't know exactly how long.

Feels like forever, but it's probably only a few minutes. Might've been longer.

I don't know.

There's a small creek as the bedroom door opens, and a single ray of light, dim light, illuminates the floor, reminding me that it is, indeed, laminated wood.

Nothing else happens.

The door stays open, just that same fraction.

I stay sitting still, holding my knees, holding the pain in, staring at my mirror, the girl in it beginning to go blurry, almost as if she's pixelating.

Slowly, the slither of light gets smaller until it vanishes, with a creek, as the door closes.

A faint muttering.

I bet they think I can't hear them.

They're wrong.

"I'm so worried about her."

"Yes. I know."

"It seems like you don't care."

"I said it from the beginning. He was no good for her."

An aggravated sigh.

"Can you please, for one second forget about all that, and focus on the fact that our ten-year-old daughter is in there, and she won't eat, won't sleep, she won't even move!"

There's a very quiet mutter, something incoherent.

I blink again, until my vision stops being blurry.

The girl's still in my mirror.

She's still looking back at me.

That's definitely not me. I don't look like that. I know I don't. There's enough photographs of me around this house to confirm that.

I know what I look like, and it's not that.

Suddenly my thoughts are interrupted by a screech of tyres outside,.

:Flashback:

A screech of tyres.

A shove.

A cry of pain.

A scream.

Blinding lights.

Silence.

:End Flashback:

My head jerks to the window.

The curtains are still drawn, but somehow I can still tell that everything outside is fine.

My dull blue eyes return to the girl in the mirror.

I'm surprised to see fresh tears slowly trickling down her face.

She looks like she's just witnessed something. Something terrible. I think she's shaking.

I close my eyes, and put my forehead on my knees.

Time passes.

A blue light, accompanied by a siren goes past.

:Flashback:

Constant flashing light.

Being helped into the back of a white van.
:End Flashback:

I look up into the mirror again, my eyes red.

She's still there, sitting exactly like I am.

I can hear the faint noise of commotion downstairs, maybe from the television.

:Flashback:

Everyone around me is rushing about.

Saying things I don't understand.

I'm sitting on a white bed, people in white coats talking to each other.

Someone, my mother, I think, approaches one of them.

"Just a few bruises, Suffering from shock mostly."

:End Flashback:

The girl, she's smiling, softly, now.

She nods slightly.

:Flashback:

Sitting down, next to another bed.

Holding hands, smiling weakly.

Being relieved, for a few days.

Everything's going to be fine.

Suddenly, a beep goes elongated.

Panic.

I'm moved out of the room.

:End Flashback:

I sigh.

She's watching me, I think.

More time passes.

:Flashback:
Forever passes, though, it's merely hours, maybe minutes.

Sorrowful.

I sit, for, what I now know is, the last time.

I get told not to worry, I'll be fine.

I'm crying, I'm arguing, refusing to believe, refusing to let go.

A calming voice, he's urging me, softly, to let go, to accept.

I'm told his parents have already said goodbye, and that it's my turn.

That he wants to be with me when...

:End Flashback:

The image in the mirror, she's sobbing.

I move, and stand in front of her.

I reach out to touch her shoulder, to reassure her that she'll be alright.

My warm fingertips hit cool glass.

Sinking to the floor, I sit quietly.

I sit and think.

:Flashback:

I apologise, endless times, I'm told to forget it, that it's not my fault.

I argue that it is.

I'm told to forget it, that time is slowly running out.

I drop it.

We talk, we confirm, wit words, love.

I vow not to forget, I vow not to take the ring off.

He laughs, weakly, but smiles.

I clamber onto the bed and we cuddle.

We remember the day we met.

We recount the best days, and a few of the worse, remembering how we pulled through.

I'm reassured that I'll pull though.

:End Flashback:

I shake my head slowly, and put the palms of my hands against my eyes.

:Flashback:

He gets weaker.

We switch, so he's in my arms.

I hold him close, talking to him, softly.

Time passes.

He gets weaker still.

More time passes, in comfortable silence.

He whispers that he loves me.

I whisper it back, and gently kiss his lips, just the once, but for the last time.

His breathing gets slower.

I bite my lip, trying to hold back the forthcoming tears.

He whispers five words, barely audible, one last time.

He passes away.

A heart shatters.

:End Flashback:

The girl in the mirror…She's far too blurry now, I can't see what she's doing.

I rub my eyes.

My fingers are wet.

I think they're tears.

Falling, faster, thicker.

Soon, I'm overcome.

I let them flow.

Uncontrollable tears, falling faster, faster and faster.

I realise I'm not holding my knees anymore.

I realise that the reality's hit.

I can't stand the pain, that's beginning to break the shell I put up to protect my numb body.

I may not be holding my knees, but someone's holding me now.

She's whispering soothing words, stroking my unkempt hair.

I don't know how long we sat there, but, after awhile, I feel the tears begin to subside.

I blink, once, twice, three times, and look at the girl in the mirror.

She looks different.

I blink, three times, again, until the tears are gone.

I look into the mirror again.

She's gone.

"She's me. The girl in the mirror, the girl in my mirror, she's me."

Dark Magician Girl Of Chaos: Phee. I got finger cramp typing that.

Magician Of Black Chaos: Indeed.

Dark Magician Girl Of Chaos: Review please my lovelies!