A girl sobs silently on an endless darkened floor. The space around her is
infinite, and she, infinitesimal. The same red stains litter the small area
around where she kneels. The same copperish stench invades the air. The
same flood of tears pour soundlessly down the same clammy cheeks, but fall
to the floor with deafening splashes compared to the silence surrounding
her.
The same bleeding, weeping, helpless girl. The same deathly black eyes.
A new person appears out of the dark infinity. Unknown? Perhaps. He seems to know the girl, but approaches the sorry, huddled figure with excess caution. He crouches down slowly, the girl apparently unaware of his presence. Reaching out with a tentative hand, he gently brushes away another tear rolling down her face, then, even gentler, lays it flat on her cheek.
Her sobbing halts, and she lifts her head in a slow, agonising movement, eyes closed. He lowers his head, and their lips meet in a desperate kiss. They break apart, and she opens her bloodshot eyes. Black meets black, and they are both brought crashing back into reality.
~
Goten awoke first, snapped into consciousness as if somebody flicked a switch between dream and reality. He heard the faint, slightly erratic beeping of a heart monitor as his niece stirred. Her dead eyes fluttered open, and caught sight of him., the man of her dreams. She curled up into a ball, facing away from him in the hospital bed. The hospital where he'd rushed her after her collapse. She noticed a slight discomfort in her wrist, apart from the bandaged and still healing slashes in her arm. A tube led from her forearm to a drip, feeing her weakened body with blood more viscous than a mere humans. A bandage around Goten's elbow was the sole relic he showed of his charity to his niece.
Pan hid from him in the sanctuary of the unfamiliar hospital sheets. Hiding her shame, hiding her guilt. Shame for her love for him, guilt that he returned her feelings, to make her happy. She didn't remember what happened, but knew she had a secret revealed.
"Goten?"
"Hn?"
"Take me home."
He nodded. "I'll call the nurse."
~
He laid her tense huddled form on her own bed. Her eyes flickered like a dying flame, restless in her dreams. As soon as she touched the familiar texture of her smooth, slightly bloodstained sheets, she curled up in foetal position close to the wall. Influenced by her dream maybe? Or possibly compulsive behaviour? He had a feeling she had these dreams often.
He wandered into the kitchen to put the kettle on. A mug of hot chocole use to always calm her nerves. Used to. When she was young. She'd changed so much since then, he wasn't sure what to do with her.
It was when he was looking through her cupboards for cocoa that he discovered what he feared.
Drawer after drawer he opened was stuffed with bloodstained knives of all kinds, all shapes, all sizes. All different, but all the same. All rusty red with dried blood.
The bathroom.
Half dazed, half in panic, he stumbled towards the bathroom. Blood. Everywhere. Blood. Splattered on the walls, spilt on the floor. Blood. Smeared on the mirror where fearful eyes stared back at him. A knife. A butcher's knife. Dried blood tainted the otherwise silver blade. Her latest blade of many.
"Goten?"
He slid his eyes over to his niece standing in the doorway, out of focus. His mouth gaped open, but he couldn't utter a sound.
"Goten, what are you doing here?" She looked politely bewildered at his presence. Walking forward, she picked up the bloodstained knife. Absentmindedly, she slashed the blade across her wrist, opening another passage out for her life's liquid, thickened with his own. Goten desired to stop her, but was paralysed by shock and fear. Looking to her left, she peered into the mirror.
"Look, Goten. There she is again. The girl I told you about." She pointed to the mirror, her reflection pointing eerily back. "That's her, and look, she's crying again."
He shook himself out of paralysis and grasped her bloodied wrist. "This is what you've been doing to yourself? Panny... why? What's the matter?"
She seemed to suddenly notice the blood-painted walls and floor. She screamed and collapsed into Goten's strong, awaiting arms. He half dragged, half carried her to the living room. Finding an armchair miraculously sporting only a small patch of the dried brown stains, he laid her down gently, and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her tightly clenched eyes. She was shaking like a leaf caught in a storm.
"Panny... are you alright?"
She shook her head vigorously.
"Can I get you anything?"
She shook her head again. "Why is there so much blood here? Whose is it?"
He debated with himself whether to tell her, she wasn't in a healthy state of mind at the moment, but no matter when she finds out, it will still be as terrifying as now. 'Now would be better,' he thought to himself, 'more time to recover.' He couldn't bring himself to say it, but pulled her arms away from her chest, where she clutched them protectively. She gave an involuntary shudder as her makeshift shield was taken away, but the company of her uncle comforted her, ignoring the ever-present and prohibited love for him.
He held the bleeding wrist in front of her face. "See this blood? I think it's from the same person."
Her expression changed from fear to confusion to horror as she realised the meaning of his words. "But... but... it can't be mine," she begged dejectedly, lifting her pleading eyes to her uncle's sad, compassionate face, praying for him not to confirm what he'd said.
No chance. He nodded solemnly. No hope. She looked at the blood on her wrist, suddenly finding the wound underneath the thick, red fluid oozing down her arm, dripping on the chair. She wished for it not to me true. No good. She looked around at her insanity-driven stains soiling every object in sight. She wanted it to go away. No blood.
No life.
She burst into a flood of tears, Goten quietly lifted her off the armchair and sat in it himself. He held his niece on his lap, her head buried in his shirt, as if she was a child again. Her sobbing subsided, and they sat there basking in each others closeness, but unsure of what was to come.
Pan spoke up. "Goten, take me home."
"You are home."
"This isn't my home."
Goten pushed her off his chest and tried to look her in the eyes but she kept her head down. "Pan, I know you don't like this but you can't deny it. This is your apartment."
"That's not what I mean. I know it's mine, but I don't want to live here anymore. Please, Goten, take me home."
He nodded, understanding, and flew out the window with his niece in his arms. He didn't stop to gather her belongings; he knew she didn't want to see these bloodstains ever again.
~
Pan awoke with company for the first time in years. She was buried in a smoothly rising and falling chest, the arm of its owner draped protectively around her waist. Protectively or possessively? Her eyes began to water as she recalled last night's events. She pulled away from her uncle and, sitting up, examined her healing wounds, dark brown unlike the pattern of scar in varying shades of white crosshatching over her entire inner forearm.
She did this to herself. Self-mutilation. 'Am I going insane? I don't remember cutting myself, but there's so much blood in the apartment.' She remembered some things though... the mirror, the knife, the girl, the blood. And those eyes. She saw a half open door leading to her uncle's ensuite. She swung her legs off the bed, pulling away from her uncle's warm embrace. The mirror...
Her small feet padded across the plush carpet towards the ensuite. The mirror...
She pushed the door wide open. The mirror...
The mirror. Staring back at her was a pale, haunted face. The face of the girl. The face was her own. It wasn't so much the face that was haunted, but her eyes. Dead. Unable to show emotion. As black as a bottomless pit. She reached out to touch the mirror. Smooth, cold, lifeless; the surface between this world and the world of illusion. The false world that lied to her about the girl she had to save. Suddenly rushed with adrenalin, she threw a punch at the mirror, shattering her reflection into a million unrecognisable pieces.
"You can still save her you know." Goten appeared behind her clad only in his boxers. He took her back into his embrace and looked into the orb- spider-web patterned mirror at their conjoined reflection.
"How can I? I don't know how," she replied dejectedly, "I don't know what she wants."
"Are you sure?" She nodded slowly, hesitated, then shook her head. "What does she want more than anything in the world?"
She lowered her eyes, unable to meet his gaze even in the broken mirror. "She wants the man standing right behind her." Goten nodded, not surprised. He was about to speak but she began again. "it is said that the worst way to miss someone is to be right next to them knowing you can't have them. That's why I left, Goten, that's why I left you."
"Pan?"
"Hn?"
"I love you."
"I know."
"Then why worry?"
She turned to him. "You're my uncle, Goten! My father is your brother! We... we can't." She turned back to the mirror, but his her eyes under her lashes. Had she looked at herself in the mirror, however, she would have seen that her eyes were no longer lifeless, emotionless, but full of longing.
"I don't give a shit. I love you, you love me. That's all I care about. Why worry about what others think? We belong together. I'll make you happy, Pan. You already make me happy, just knowing you return my love. Pan, I love you."
"Goten, please..."
"I love you."
"Stop... please don't do this..."
"I love you." He pulled her face to him and planted a simple kiss on her dry, pale lips. A crystal tear rolled down her pale cheek. He bent down to kiss her again, pouring all his emotions into that show of affection, of need... and lust. He craved for her, and from this moment on would not leave her side. Could not leave her side.
Pan pulled out of the kiss reluctantly, her lips now moist from Goten and bruised red. "Promise me."
"Anything."
"Promise you'll always be there for me."
"I'll be around you so much you'll be sick of me by the end of this week."
She laughed, finally remembering how to. "I could never get sick of you, Goten."
"So it's not 'Uncle' anymore?" She slapped him playfully on the chest and he caught her lips once again in a searing kiss. He led her out of the bathroom and onto the bed, his lips only leaving her skin to say, "Stop me if I'm going too fast."
"No. I need this."
With those words of assurance as his cue, he attacked; raining nips and kisses down her neck and collarbone. His hands fumbled with her attire, and her singlet top and panties fell to the floor, leaving her thin body exposed to him. He moved lower, tracing a tingling trail of kisses on her milky skin.
They made love then, the first time for both with someone they love. They shared their passion, showed their lust, lived their love. They finished, full of pleasure, reassured that their feelings were true, that they were meant to be.
Out of breath, he panted into her ear, "What do you say to that?"
She grinned wickedly, purring, "Wanna ride again?"
He laughed and attacked her again. "You little minx!"
~
A.N. To get the real lemon, go to www.geocities.com/black_opal87/amirrorneverlies3.html if you can be bothered. Stay tuned, more to come.
~Opal~
The same bleeding, weeping, helpless girl. The same deathly black eyes.
A new person appears out of the dark infinity. Unknown? Perhaps. He seems to know the girl, but approaches the sorry, huddled figure with excess caution. He crouches down slowly, the girl apparently unaware of his presence. Reaching out with a tentative hand, he gently brushes away another tear rolling down her face, then, even gentler, lays it flat on her cheek.
Her sobbing halts, and she lifts her head in a slow, agonising movement, eyes closed. He lowers his head, and their lips meet in a desperate kiss. They break apart, and she opens her bloodshot eyes. Black meets black, and they are both brought crashing back into reality.
~
Goten awoke first, snapped into consciousness as if somebody flicked a switch between dream and reality. He heard the faint, slightly erratic beeping of a heart monitor as his niece stirred. Her dead eyes fluttered open, and caught sight of him., the man of her dreams. She curled up into a ball, facing away from him in the hospital bed. The hospital where he'd rushed her after her collapse. She noticed a slight discomfort in her wrist, apart from the bandaged and still healing slashes in her arm. A tube led from her forearm to a drip, feeing her weakened body with blood more viscous than a mere humans. A bandage around Goten's elbow was the sole relic he showed of his charity to his niece.
Pan hid from him in the sanctuary of the unfamiliar hospital sheets. Hiding her shame, hiding her guilt. Shame for her love for him, guilt that he returned her feelings, to make her happy. She didn't remember what happened, but knew she had a secret revealed.
"Goten?"
"Hn?"
"Take me home."
He nodded. "I'll call the nurse."
~
He laid her tense huddled form on her own bed. Her eyes flickered like a dying flame, restless in her dreams. As soon as she touched the familiar texture of her smooth, slightly bloodstained sheets, she curled up in foetal position close to the wall. Influenced by her dream maybe? Or possibly compulsive behaviour? He had a feeling she had these dreams often.
He wandered into the kitchen to put the kettle on. A mug of hot chocole use to always calm her nerves. Used to. When she was young. She'd changed so much since then, he wasn't sure what to do with her.
It was when he was looking through her cupboards for cocoa that he discovered what he feared.
Drawer after drawer he opened was stuffed with bloodstained knives of all kinds, all shapes, all sizes. All different, but all the same. All rusty red with dried blood.
The bathroom.
Half dazed, half in panic, he stumbled towards the bathroom. Blood. Everywhere. Blood. Splattered on the walls, spilt on the floor. Blood. Smeared on the mirror where fearful eyes stared back at him. A knife. A butcher's knife. Dried blood tainted the otherwise silver blade. Her latest blade of many.
"Goten?"
He slid his eyes over to his niece standing in the doorway, out of focus. His mouth gaped open, but he couldn't utter a sound.
"Goten, what are you doing here?" She looked politely bewildered at his presence. Walking forward, she picked up the bloodstained knife. Absentmindedly, she slashed the blade across her wrist, opening another passage out for her life's liquid, thickened with his own. Goten desired to stop her, but was paralysed by shock and fear. Looking to her left, she peered into the mirror.
"Look, Goten. There she is again. The girl I told you about." She pointed to the mirror, her reflection pointing eerily back. "That's her, and look, she's crying again."
He shook himself out of paralysis and grasped her bloodied wrist. "This is what you've been doing to yourself? Panny... why? What's the matter?"
She seemed to suddenly notice the blood-painted walls and floor. She screamed and collapsed into Goten's strong, awaiting arms. He half dragged, half carried her to the living room. Finding an armchair miraculously sporting only a small patch of the dried brown stains, he laid her down gently, and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her tightly clenched eyes. She was shaking like a leaf caught in a storm.
"Panny... are you alright?"
She shook her head vigorously.
"Can I get you anything?"
She shook her head again. "Why is there so much blood here? Whose is it?"
He debated with himself whether to tell her, she wasn't in a healthy state of mind at the moment, but no matter when she finds out, it will still be as terrifying as now. 'Now would be better,' he thought to himself, 'more time to recover.' He couldn't bring himself to say it, but pulled her arms away from her chest, where she clutched them protectively. She gave an involuntary shudder as her makeshift shield was taken away, but the company of her uncle comforted her, ignoring the ever-present and prohibited love for him.
He held the bleeding wrist in front of her face. "See this blood? I think it's from the same person."
Her expression changed from fear to confusion to horror as she realised the meaning of his words. "But... but... it can't be mine," she begged dejectedly, lifting her pleading eyes to her uncle's sad, compassionate face, praying for him not to confirm what he'd said.
No chance. He nodded solemnly. No hope. She looked at the blood on her wrist, suddenly finding the wound underneath the thick, red fluid oozing down her arm, dripping on the chair. She wished for it not to me true. No good. She looked around at her insanity-driven stains soiling every object in sight. She wanted it to go away. No blood.
No life.
She burst into a flood of tears, Goten quietly lifted her off the armchair and sat in it himself. He held his niece on his lap, her head buried in his shirt, as if she was a child again. Her sobbing subsided, and they sat there basking in each others closeness, but unsure of what was to come.
Pan spoke up. "Goten, take me home."
"You are home."
"This isn't my home."
Goten pushed her off his chest and tried to look her in the eyes but she kept her head down. "Pan, I know you don't like this but you can't deny it. This is your apartment."
"That's not what I mean. I know it's mine, but I don't want to live here anymore. Please, Goten, take me home."
He nodded, understanding, and flew out the window with his niece in his arms. He didn't stop to gather her belongings; he knew she didn't want to see these bloodstains ever again.
~
Pan awoke with company for the first time in years. She was buried in a smoothly rising and falling chest, the arm of its owner draped protectively around her waist. Protectively or possessively? Her eyes began to water as she recalled last night's events. She pulled away from her uncle and, sitting up, examined her healing wounds, dark brown unlike the pattern of scar in varying shades of white crosshatching over her entire inner forearm.
She did this to herself. Self-mutilation. 'Am I going insane? I don't remember cutting myself, but there's so much blood in the apartment.' She remembered some things though... the mirror, the knife, the girl, the blood. And those eyes. She saw a half open door leading to her uncle's ensuite. She swung her legs off the bed, pulling away from her uncle's warm embrace. The mirror...
Her small feet padded across the plush carpet towards the ensuite. The mirror...
She pushed the door wide open. The mirror...
The mirror. Staring back at her was a pale, haunted face. The face of the girl. The face was her own. It wasn't so much the face that was haunted, but her eyes. Dead. Unable to show emotion. As black as a bottomless pit. She reached out to touch the mirror. Smooth, cold, lifeless; the surface between this world and the world of illusion. The false world that lied to her about the girl she had to save. Suddenly rushed with adrenalin, she threw a punch at the mirror, shattering her reflection into a million unrecognisable pieces.
"You can still save her you know." Goten appeared behind her clad only in his boxers. He took her back into his embrace and looked into the orb- spider-web patterned mirror at their conjoined reflection.
"How can I? I don't know how," she replied dejectedly, "I don't know what she wants."
"Are you sure?" She nodded slowly, hesitated, then shook her head. "What does she want more than anything in the world?"
She lowered her eyes, unable to meet his gaze even in the broken mirror. "She wants the man standing right behind her." Goten nodded, not surprised. He was about to speak but she began again. "it is said that the worst way to miss someone is to be right next to them knowing you can't have them. That's why I left, Goten, that's why I left you."
"Pan?"
"Hn?"
"I love you."
"I know."
"Then why worry?"
She turned to him. "You're my uncle, Goten! My father is your brother! We... we can't." She turned back to the mirror, but his her eyes under her lashes. Had she looked at herself in the mirror, however, she would have seen that her eyes were no longer lifeless, emotionless, but full of longing.
"I don't give a shit. I love you, you love me. That's all I care about. Why worry about what others think? We belong together. I'll make you happy, Pan. You already make me happy, just knowing you return my love. Pan, I love you."
"Goten, please..."
"I love you."
"Stop... please don't do this..."
"I love you." He pulled her face to him and planted a simple kiss on her dry, pale lips. A crystal tear rolled down her pale cheek. He bent down to kiss her again, pouring all his emotions into that show of affection, of need... and lust. He craved for her, and from this moment on would not leave her side. Could not leave her side.
Pan pulled out of the kiss reluctantly, her lips now moist from Goten and bruised red. "Promise me."
"Anything."
"Promise you'll always be there for me."
"I'll be around you so much you'll be sick of me by the end of this week."
She laughed, finally remembering how to. "I could never get sick of you, Goten."
"So it's not 'Uncle' anymore?" She slapped him playfully on the chest and he caught her lips once again in a searing kiss. He led her out of the bathroom and onto the bed, his lips only leaving her skin to say, "Stop me if I'm going too fast."
"No. I need this."
With those words of assurance as his cue, he attacked; raining nips and kisses down her neck and collarbone. His hands fumbled with her attire, and her singlet top and panties fell to the floor, leaving her thin body exposed to him. He moved lower, tracing a tingling trail of kisses on her milky skin.
They made love then, the first time for both with someone they love. They shared their passion, showed their lust, lived their love. They finished, full of pleasure, reassured that their feelings were true, that they were meant to be.
Out of breath, he panted into her ear, "What do you say to that?"
She grinned wickedly, purring, "Wanna ride again?"
He laughed and attacked her again. "You little minx!"
~
A.N. To get the real lemon, go to www.geocities.com/black_opal87/amirrorneverlies3.html if you can be bothered. Stay tuned, more to come.
~Opal~