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Anna was a fool. While there are many foolish people in the world and most find themselves at some point or another where their judgement is far from the wisest, she was placed into an unfortunate predicament. She was in love with someone who would never love her. She knew it was mistake to fall for a man like Dean Thompson, but she was drawn to him from the moment she saw him. It was as if an invisible string was tied around her heart and drew her closer to him with each step. Whether it was running toward or away from him, she felt close to him. Although, to matter how close she was, it seemed never enough to reach him. He lived in a world so far away from her own. With each passing day, Anna followed the misfortune that sliced her heart and left it raw and bleeding in its wake.
It was three years ago at a New Years? Eve party where she first met him. She was a innocent; a junior in college and unaware of her future downfall. She had met boys before, but they were nothing to take seriously. Dean Thompson was different, or so she had heard. Even before they met, she knew about him. He was exceedingly intelligent, attractive, interesting, and happened to be in a long distance relationship with his girlfriend of four years. Although apparently, his relationship always had a tendency to be less than monogamous whenever it was convenient for him. His girlfriend was unaware. No one had the heart to tell her. All of these shards of information were meant to serve as a warning to the romantic young girl, but it only enticed her curiosity. She wanted to know more. She wanted to meet him.
Promptly after entering the room, she saw Dean through the crowd. He was leaning against the wall and listening to a story. Initially, that?s what she believed he was doing, but as she looked closer, he was bored. His mouth was curved into a vague smile and he nodded intently, but his eyes were somewhere else. As if he felt the stare of Anna?s gaze from across the room, he looked over to her through the crowd. He suddenly didn?t seem so far. She felt like the crowd evaporated and it was only him that existed. In other situations, she would have introduced herself, used her charm and wit, but she was stunned. As he approached her, it seemed that all of his thoughts were unreadable. Normally it seemed like people were open books, but he was different. She couldn?t speak. She couldn?t breathe. It was like he was encased in ice. He smiled at her and introduced himself politely, but Anna too busy thinking to herself that this was what a prince from a fairytale would be like if they existed. She quickly said her name, but her words fumbled over her tongue. For a moment, she could see his mask slip away as he grinned, amused. She treasured that moment.
Presently, she desperately wanted to run away. She wished she had never laid eyes on him that night. If only she had never met him; her world would be brighter, but dimmer at the same time. She would rather be blank than to suffer in pity and loathing. Right now, she was miserable and felt as if she was fading away. The flickering hope he would one day wake up and realize that she was the one-- the only one--- was about to vanish. She could barely keep her knees from buckling as she climbed the sea of stairs to her apartment. Step after step, she criticized each move that led to this moment. She couldn?t deny that this was a self-inflicted pain. While others relished in other forms of self-destruction, she chose this kind of chaos to eat away at her being.
It was silly of her to fall for him, although if he was presented on paper, he seemed perfect. He was given qualities that ensured his success, thus he had an unnatural luck with life. He could do whatever he wanted and did just that. To Anna, he almost felt inhuman. She was convinced his life?s purpose was to fill her life with bliss and misery, but in reality, Dean was just another man, quick to ruin the selfless love of a woman naive enough to give it to him.
Disregarding of all the countless warnings she had heard all her life, Anna was just like a curious child playing with a kitchen knife. She knew would slice her finger, give a heavy sob until someone would hold her and tell her everything would be alright. The tears would dry, but that wound wouldn?t ever heal right. She knew she would have a nasty little scar for the rest of her life.
Anna fumbled with her keys with fingers as she jostled with the brass doorknob to her living room. Flinging open the door, she stared at the clouded mirror that hung against the wall. It was an antique and quite large. It almost took up the entire height of the wall and looked out of place against the modern decor of her apartment. It was an heirloom passed down from Anna?s deceased grandmother?s, to her mother, and then to her when she had graduated. The mirror?s glass sprawled into a delicate oval shape and was permanently dirty. Its frame was a dusty, bronzed metal twisted into gnarled vines. She supposed has been once gold, but had been caked with dirt and grime with carelessness. Chipped leaves sprouted along the metal fauna. The centerpiece of the antique resting at the top of the mirror?s peak. It was a crystalline flower tinged a vomit orange with chunks of glass petals missing. Her mother had described it as an aging beauty, but somewhere beyond her flesh, through her ribcage, and past her fragile heart, Anna always despised it. At one point, someone had gone great lengths to care for the mirror. Now, they were dead and all that remained of their efforts was a rusting eyesore. A reminder for her that all things beautiful would inevitably corrode.
Staring into the looking glass, she saw a unrecognizable girl hunched in the reflection. The girl?s eyeliner was smudged into dark rings around her eyes as tears streamed down her face in black streaks. Brown hair hung limply at her shoulders and beady eyes stared back at her. This was when Anna realized that she had become what she had always feared she would: a empty shell. The girl was no stranger. The image was of herself, hollowed out and left to wither. She was a shell.
Anna kicked off her heels and slid onto the couch. Her leg dangled limply off the edge and brushed against the floor. She couldn?t command her limbs to move. Maybe this is what held for her future. When Anna was with Dean, she ignored every problem in her life because she desperately needed to his love. She drowned in her own failures, but wanted need to feel that soaring importance that he gave her. Every time she ran to him, she wanted nothing than to forget and to feel something other than growing disdain for herself. Perhaps that was why he choice to propose to his girlfriend rather than her, or even the countless others Dean may or may not have slept with. She didn?t know anything about the others. She didn?t know the woman?s name--- she, who somehow reeled in the uncatchable fish. She didn?t want to know.
It was a few hours ago when she saw them together. Anna had planned on surprising him outside of his office building with late night cup of coffee, but it seemed that the other woman planned to do the same. Like a coward, she hid. This was the first time she had seen them together. Instantly, it was clear to her that the other woman loved him as Anna did. The other woman approached Dean as he exited the building and while he seemed surprised, he seemed strangely happy. He smiled that half-smile like he always did and kissed her much like he kissed Anna, but instead merely of thanking her for the coffee and inviting her back to his apartment, he placed the cup down on the ground, got on one knee, and proposed. The scene went by so quickly, but the more she replayed it in her mind, everything was slowed. The exuberant acceptance that followed made Anna sick. She felt like she wanted to fade away into the darkness in which she was hiding. She couldn?t take it.
That was when she ran. She couldn?t watch, whether or not he was lying and smiling that same smile through his perfect teeth didn?t matter anymore. He could tell her that the proposal meant nothing and that the other woman meant nothing, but she knew. His perfect teeth were shallow shells of bone just like he was a empty, heartless man.
As she ran through the streets, she understood. He?d choose to be with a woman who could compliment him in social circles and dinner parties. His wife would wear an French designer?s couture gown and make small talk with other trophy wives about global issues, charities, but most importantly, gossip about the latest social mishaps. Of course he?d pick out some brainless, nameless mistress like all important men do, but love would never factor into their relationship. Or any of his relationships for that matter. Nobody would ever mean anything to him. Maybe she had become the brainless mistress without even knowing it. She had become the other woman.
She could feel the hot sting of tears well behind her eyes. It was pathetic how sorry she felt, not just for herself, but for everyone. His fiance was blinded by love and would never know she had been cheated on countless times until the fateful day when one of Dean?s many mistresses would do the ?honorable? thing and speak to her ?woman-to-woman? about the countless affairs. Dean was cold and would only notice his all-encompassing life failure on his death bed. He destroyed people who could have cared for him in exchange for success and power and would realize this sad truth eighty years too late. And most of all, she felt sorry for herself. She was a pathetic girl who would be scared, cautious, and alone for the rest of her sad existence on this landfill of a planet.
All of this twisted in her stomach and she squeezed her eyes shut, letting a few more tears stream down her face. She wanted to scream and let everyone know that she wasn?t just tired or hungry or just in a rush, but that everything was not alright. She was not okay.
In a fit of anguish, Anna hurled herself from the couch to her kitchen and tore open the drawers. Filing through the random assortment of tools, she came across exactly what she needed. In her shaking hands, she raised a silver hammer. It felt like a glimmering mythical weapon as she tightened her digits around the handle. It felt holy. This had to be done. She ran to her living room to the mirror and looked at the wide-eyed girl whose slight figure trembled with each ragged breath she took. Her heart slammed in her ears. With each frantic blink, fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She had to end it.
Pulling her arm back, she let the weight of the hammer hurl toward the face of the looking glass. Instead of hearing the satisfying shatter of the cursed truth-teller, Anna saw the reflection of her broken self disappear. She could hear the echoes of thousands of voices rush past her ears and the vibration of metal clink and wobble. Fragments of her apartment shifted past her and the slivers of reality drifted past. For a moment, she thought she saw Dean, but as quickly as the image appeared, it had vanished. It seemed like time had stopped and that days, even years had passed in a mere second. ?? The ever-present fears that had gripped her throughout her life loosened its hold until they disappeared completely. Through the fragments, Anna pondered if this was what death was. Perhaps as she smashed the mirror, a shard of glass flew and pierced her skull to deliver the fatal macabre blow. They would find her dead in her apartment with a ruined face and a pool of putrid blood. An embarrassing sight indeed, but she found it hard to care anymore. It was hard to care about anything in this confusing, timeless blur. It held a tranquility that could only be compared to the peacefulness of sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool.
Beams of light spotted through her vision until slowly, it faded to nothing.?? As if she suddenly continued the momentum of the hammer?s swing, Anna stumbled and landed face first on the ground. For a few seconds, she couldn?t breathe. When she could, all she could smell was lush green grass. She supposed this was a form of heaven or paradise, but the white hot pain that spiderwebbed through her chest proved otherwise. She wasn?t dead. She was alive and in some dream world. Before nervousness rendered her mind a useless wreckage, she felt a strange pull. The world slowed as she opened her bleary eyes. From a large and distorted tree whose roots knotted deep into the rich soil, was her mirror--- perfectly intact.
Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/ihlu9oEnR5E/viewtopic.php
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