In a small rural town lies small clusters of houses side by side with tall pine trees. At first glance this place would be the perfect town for those who love the view of the forest and quietude.
A perfect town that minds its own business, let alone would concern themselves with others' problems
As night falls, symphonies of frogs, crickets and leaves rustling hums their melody accompanied by the starry night sky
"Again with this, why do you always bring it up every time we try to talk?"
In a far distance from the clusters, rests a modern house that is surrounded by thicker trees, denser forests.
This modern house was occupied by a small family of three.
"Why do you want to talk?" His tone filled with disinterest.
The man in his mid-forties responded to the woman who stood up from her chair in the dim dining room
"I just wanted to know where you were. Why weren't you eating the food I made?" the woman questioned him in annoyance for the lack of interest on the dinner table filled with pre-cooked and pre-heated meals.
"I'm full." The man tries to dismiss the questions and drank the bottle of beer in his hand
Crash!
The sound of a glass cup shattering on the floor was heard
"You ate at her place again didn't you? Don't fucking talk to me like that, Patrick. What's wrong with the food I made for us? For this family?"
The woman was seething. Tears fell from her already red-rimmed eyes, she grits her teeth as she slams her hands on the table.
"Food? food you made? You call this dinner? I know damn well this shit is nothing but stale pre-brought microwaved garbage!" he shouts, right before bottoming out the beer bottle in his hand.
Thud! Smash!
The loud noises muffled incoherent screaming and yelling
*
I plugged my ears with my headphones, played some music. I was inside my room, just far enough to hear my parents outside yelling.
On my bed, I put my sketchpad onto my knees and started drawing
A few months ago, I started having pleasant dreams. In those dreams I met a stranger, he was a gentleman—surprisingly funny.
'I feel like I have seen him before' I thought but obviously I have never met anyone like that in real life.
Either I was a small child or a young adult, he'd accompany me in those dreams, making me laugh and such.
Step Step Step
Footsteps that slowly became louder—faster.
It was father's.
KNOCK!! KNOCK!!
He was rigorously twisting the door knob like a maniac
"I know you're in here! Get out now!"
The knocks became more aggressive as well as the twists, it was like he was determined to rip off my door
"If you do not open this damn door—"
I swung the door wide open
I already dropped everything under my bed—afraid he might tear apart my sketchpad again
The smell of beer was radiating off him, it was nauseating, he reeked of tobacco and booze..
I clenched my fists hard as I looked behind him… it was mother, she was crying while holding her arm. I narrowed my eyes.
"I'm awake… I was- I was just sleeping…" I couldn't look directly at his eyes, though right now I'm seething in rage.
He grabbed my arm, tightening his grip so I couldn't run away then proceeded to throw me to the living room
My father forced me to take a look at the center of the room
It was my mother on the ground sobbing, she was bruised up especially on her left arm. She wailed even further, trying to reach out to me but father pulls me away from her as he spoke.
"If you haven't killed your sister, your mother wouldn't have been like this! I can't get some damn peace cause' of you two!"
"You should have died instead of your sister!"
"Patrick! Do not talk to your son that way!" Mother cries out as she grabs me from father.
but that only made things worse as Father became more angry as he tries to pry me away from mother
"This is all your fault!"
He kept rambling, rambling about how the death of my older sister was my fault or how the family was like this all because of me…
I bit my lip until it was bleeding, I know damn well it's my fault yet hearing her name coming from my bastard father. I want to just ▇▇▇—
A sudden wave of tranquility washes over me. I felt calm again.
All I could do in this situation was stay quiet–as quiet as a dead rat. Just like always, all I have to do is tolerate it. Tolerate this noise until my brain drowns it out.
The sound of the front door smashed closed signals that father finally left
I was still standing in the living room.
'I'm tired..'
I closed my eyes, tilted my head as I sigh
"I'm so sorry Sentrik… So Sorry... Sorry"
I listened to my mother's quiet apologies, although she was saying her pleas, she did not bat an eye at me so neither did I. She had always been this way since the death of my older sister.
I'm used to her crying. Used to her bickering with father, mother always instigates a fight out of him… and in the end she'd cry like a martyr of her own making, just to make it all worse for the both of us. Used to the way she'd starve me before just so that she could make a bigger drama. To make herself feel better by being the bigger victim.
I hate her too.
Yet I went to kitchen to grab a handful of ice and wrapped it with dry cloth and I softly put the makeshift ice pack onto her bruised arm
She continuously says sorry
"..."
I did not say anything, I just silently sat with her holding the ice pack
It was already 2am, mother went to her room to sleep, leaving me alone in the living room.
I went to the bathroom and took a bath, having cold water running down from my head felt nice.
After I finished, I dried myself up and got myself some fresh sleeping wear.
I look into the mirror… reminding myself.
I am Sentrik Anwir, 20 years old, my sister died when I was 10. She died after falling off a cliff when she pushed me up, after that was a blur.
All I could remember was the cops showing up with blaring sirens and flooding my vision with blue and red. If my memory serves me right all they could find was a puddle of blood but her body was nowhere to be found.
After a few years they stopped all the search parties and declared it a cold case.
That was then the beginning of the hell I'm living in right now.
I let out a heavy sigh and stared at the mirror
"Still looking awful as usual me"
My salmon pink hair… still messy as ever even if it's wet.
I take a closer look at my eyes, seems like I'm developing eyebags due to sleeping late often
As I look down, I see my mouth smiling, it's a bit cracked from drying-
'Huh..? I'm smiling….?' Right now I certainly am not
As I stepped backwards to get a wider look at the mirror, I realized my reflection had a smiley face plastered on it, like my own face was wiped away.
There were no other remarks that would call it a full face, just a gaping wide smile and a singular arched eye.
"Hello, little salmon. Oh- how rude of me, I mean Sentrik!"
The reflection talked, its voice was creepily deep sending shivers down my spine
"What the fuck…?"
"No need to use foul words, that's not how you greet your guests now, do you?" It snickered at me widening its smile even more
'Am I dreaming? Did I pass out? Am I hallucinating?'
My brain could not process what's happening I tried convincing myself there was a logical explanation
"Oh no no!, in fact, what you're witnessing right now is neither an illusion, a hallucination or any of that, and I am quite certain you're wide awake right now."
"Holy shit, this is real"
"Yes it is, litte salmon"
"Don't call me that"
How would a normal person react right now when suddenly their reflection is talking, it's not like I can scream my lungs out to wake up my mother or freak out and punch my reflection, I can barely even lift a dumbbell.
"Wh-What are you?" I asked, demanding a logical answer
"I can understand your confusion right now, Sentrik" My reflection moved its hand to its chin; its fingers brushing over its leer
"But I can't explain any long details so I'll go straight to the point"
I braced myself
'What kind of bullshit will I hear from a talking reflection?'
All of this felt too unreal for me
Its smile went ear to ear as its eye became sharper
"Your sister is alive"
"H-Huh?"