Turmoil Behind The Mirror

From green to red our days pass by,
Waiting for a sign to tell us why.
Are we dancing all alone?
Collect some stars to shine for you,
Start today there’re only a few,
The sign of times, my friend…. -

- In Flames –

Karma : Thank you so much for beta-ing my crappy work !!! :p
Tsuki : Thank you so much for reviewing , I really appreciate it !!!


He woke up the next morning to a sour mouth, a terrible headache, to the burned down butts of cigarettes left on every available shelf and plate, and the stubborn ringing of the phone.

Rubbing his eyes in a motion of utter laziness he struggled to get up from bed.

Taking a deep breath, he kept debating with himself about going to school or just dropping it and move on to one of those routine-filled days.

The air in the room urged him to go out, but the corrosive smile of death glancing at him was about to persuade him otherwise….

He couldn’t believe that even behind closed doors, reality still found a way to crawl through the windows.

Jon just couldn’t manage this slow motion trip anymore. The mere thought of his life passing by in front of his own eyes made him dizzy. Stone cold will wouldn’t be of any use against the wall he had built to keep all of them on the other side.

He felt prisoner of the dirty and filthy skin in which the mortal coil of his soul inhabited.

Shrugging his shoulders, he managed as best as he could to drive all those thoughts away.

// It’s getting late //

Not bothering to change his clothing, he quickly packed his belongings and left for school.

// At least this is how it’ll be for a while…. Versions of the truth…. //

He smiled at his thoughts, and with his gaze fixed on the ground, he quickened his pace.

And then, without warning, that gaze began to hunt him again. The piercing stare that seemed to burn him.

He wondered what it would be like to be reflected on those orbs. Would they be like any other mirror he had been forced to destroy? Would they be so empty and cold?

Reflections obsessed him. He couldn’t cope with the judgment they brought upon one’s soul and being.

Truth is, he thought, that what really caused him revulsion was to look directly into the essence of the being staring back. Not even once, since he was a little kid, he remembered liking reflections.

All these thoughts revolved around his head on his way.

He remembered tears.

Once, a very long time ago, he had silently cried for the people trapped in the crystal prison. He used to think they were never-forgiving silhouettes mourning the killing of words before sounds could form a sentence. Mute witnesses of waking hours.

He noticed the shiver that overtook his body, but there was no space for fear now.

He kept on walking. Crestfallen.

// Release me //

{ No more than an idle mind }

Jon felt the voice stirring inside his brain, fully awake now.

{ Your wings are broken. Stop debating in the sweetness of long-forgotten memories }

Loud sigh.

Years before, he argued frequently with the voice, but now he saw no point in it; it had never kept to itself and he had learned it never would. But sometimes, it was still too strong….

When he snapped back, he was already at the classroom door.

“Mr. Jonathan Weller, I can see you decided to honor us with your presence today…. Please.”

He chose to ignore the ever-lasting sarcasm in that voice and took his usual seat at the back of the classroom.

Grabbing a notebook he started to write down any thought that came across his mind.

The clock seemed to run backwards.

Jon chose to abandon himself to the stream of thoughts torturing him, hoping he would be able to put some order in his head….

“Jon…” came the whisper from his left.

No response.

“Hey, Jon…. Hey, come back, man!”

Jon slowly turned his head toward the voice, reluctantly emerging from his thoughts.

“Hmm?” answered Jon with daydreaming eyes.

“Hey, Jon, you gotta help me out.”

No answer.

“…Do you have some…?” asked the guy.

“Some what?” Jon smiled.

“Fuck, Jon. Don’t play stupid with me!”

“Now, now. What would mommy say, Chris?” answered Jon with a sardonic smile, which shone his white teeth.

Chris’ eyes shone with anxiety, and a nervous frown made its way to his face.

With a nod, Jon bent down and went through his backpack and handled the small heater to Chris.

“All I got…” Jon whispered.

“This is bullshit! I need a real fix!” Chris replied, despair tainting his already high-pitched voice.

// What the…? //

“Do I look like your fucking dealer? Fuck off, Chris.”

“It’s cool, Jon, it’s cool…. Thanks, man.”

Chris hid the small pipe in one of his pockets.

“Mr. Weller!”

Jon felt caught off-guard.

“I’m getting sick and tired of you!”

Jon let it pass by and went back to his absent writing.

// A liar’s ambition… praised like a king…. Arms stretched out to welcome the rays of the purest lack of thoughts…. //

{ You can’t concentrate on anything, can you? }

// Ain’t listening… // he thought in a tone of mockery.

The sound of the bell ringing abruptly pierced his thoughts. He grabbed his backpack and headed toward the door.

“Mr. Weller, you stay here for a minute.”

Jon frowned and waited until there was no one left in the room but the teacher.

“Mr. Weller, I’m sick of your behavior. You come in late every day -- well, every day you decide to prize us with your assistance -- you daydream all day, and if not, you’re asleep. Anything you have to say?”

Jon faced the teacher without remorse and kept quiet.

“No? Well, then, do you have the paper you have to handle in for tomorrow? You know, your homework, Jonathan?”

That sarcasm again.

Jon roamed around the sea of papers he had in his backpack and handled the essay to the serious-looking man, who snatched it from his hands and took his time to read it.

After what seemed an eternity, he finally looked up to Jon. He looked very pissed off.

“This is an ‘A’ assignment. Look, Jonathan, I really don’t know how you do it. This time you saved your ass; next time will be a different story. Now, get out of my sight.”

Heading toward the door, Jon looked back, gave the man an unreadable glance and a half smile, “Good evening, Mr. Taylor,” and closed the door behind him.

// They stole my pure intentions //

{ They are the sickness in between }

// I’ll bury the pain //

Walking through the corridors he didn’t dare to admit he was silently looking for the piercing gaze.

Playing to be the predator just this once.

Heading for the schoolyard, Jon wasn’t considering to go to his next class. On his way he found Chris, who handled the heater back, red-eyed and high with a stupid smile plastered on his face.

“Hey, Jon, did you hear about the girl someone found in the woods?”

Jon went cold when he heard the statement. He hadn’t thought about the girl since that day….

“You should see the pictures man,” Chris said, somewhat exited.

“Pictures?”

“Yeah, the ones the forensics published. Jon, the girl was a mess.”

“How so?”

“Forget it. Just small chat. Take care, okay? See you around,” Chris said and disappeared into the crowd flooding the corridors.

// Memories are just where you lay them…. //

Jon shrugged and kept walking.

The yard welcomed him, and the yearning tree put its eyes on him. He had learned to ignore the noise the students around him made.

// Leave life bleeding in my hands…. //

Approaching the familiar tree and its comforting shade, he found little peace between the roaring crowd.

// How I hate it in here sometimes //

{ How so? }

// Just look at it, breathe it, feel it…. I’m surrounded with familiar faces, at the same time unknown, unfinished, shivering, menacing to fade away, just like reflections of what they meant to be. Reality escapes us all and we look at each other as no more than strangers. Strangers who know each other too well…. //

Jon gave a loud sigh.

// …So tired…. //

Finding himself a place against the tree, he just sat there watching people pass him by, answering to some of them with a wave of his hand.

Until he felt it was time to drift off.

Roaming with his eyes aimlessly over the crowd, the gaze came to him again, though this time it was real. The guy was standing there, watching at him.

Jon felt some kind of fear. Something stirred deep inside of him. He wondered if this was the first time this had happened to him.

He was disturbed. Jon chose to divert his gaze and went through his belongings, took out a book, lit a cigarette, enjoyed the tree’s shadow and began an absent reading.

After a while, he was already plunged in the pages, but he could unconsciously feel the burning stare on his skin.

A few moments after he had drowned in the pages of the book, a voice dragged him out of it. A voice mingled with a beautiful and caressing tone. A comforting and strangely familiar sound. Almost melodic.

“You got a cigarette?”

Jon was forced out of his reading and grabbed the cigarettes out of his pocket. Looking up to offer them to the voice, he went in shock when the enticing gaze of the towering figure looking down at him made him freeze.

A very well-built figure. Symmetric features, high cheekbones, voluptuous mouth (although not as small as his), light brown spiky hair, and green eyes that made him wonder. Jon felt judgment was about to come, but instead a charming smile was tattooed on the figure’s lips.

The long and slim-fingered hand grabbed the cigarette carton from his hands, took one, and gracefully handed them back.

“You got a lighter?”

Jon snapped brutally back to reality.

“Sure.”

Handling the lighter to the guy in front of him, he couldn’t help but smile to himself for his stupidity.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Jon muttered and went back to his reading.

“Hey, what do you got there?”

“Huh?” Jon felt stupid.

“What are you reading, I mean.”

“’Naked Lunch’… William Burroughs,” Jon answered.

{ Make him buzz off }

// Not this time //

Silence befell between the two figures.

“I’m Alexander, by the way,” interrupted the figure after giving a deep drought to his cigarette.

“Jonathan.”

“May I…?”

“Sure… suit yourself.”

And the guy sat next to him. Jon felt anxious, nervous, wondering, stupid…. He couldn’t make out the bundle of feelings starting to make a knot in his throat.

“Is it good? …The book…” Alex asked.

“Well, I like it…. I’ve read it like three times or so….”

“May I borrow it later, then?” muttered Alex with a half-smile playing on his lips.

Jon was completely intimidated by him. He couldn’t figure out why and felt vulnerable because of it. It angered him.

Jon gave out a loud sigh and went back to “Naked Lunch.” He finished the chapter and handled the book to the guy sitting next to him.

“Here.”

Alex took the book from Jon’s hands and went through its pages.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Jon looked to the crowd. The other students, going back and forth, made him think of the waves in the sea. So quiet, yet so at ease. So foreign. So far away.

He felt longing to throw himself to the flood and allow it to wash it all away.

Picking up his backpack, Jon stood up and silently walked away, not looking back nor saying goodbye, and disappeared into the hungry beast waiting for him with wide-open jaws.

{ Wouldn’t he make a beautiful sculpture? }

// *Sigh*…. //

Jon wanted to walk away, to go home and just try to sleep it off, but he also knew he had to stay. For some reason, he had to.

// No… better off…. God knows we’re lonely souls //

{ But you’re in hell, my friend }

// That, I know…. But to the light, we strive, following a bloody path, remember? }

Jon smiled and kept on walking.

// I don’t feel in the mood today //

And looking up to the sky, he quickly made up his mind. He left school behind in his wandering and went looking for the nearest liquor store.

// Where did I put that damned fake ID? //

He was roaming through his belongings while walking….

// Ah, now… here you are //

He walked a few more blocks and got to the dirty place, went in and bought a bottle of the cheapest he could find, paid for it, and headed for the park two streets ahead. He arrived to the pointed destination and sat on the grass, hiding a little from the people passing by, which were no more than a few due to the hour.

Jon took out the bottle along with his headphones and started listening to some music while giving a few gulps of the liquid that seemed to burn his throat.

He felt comfortable, under the shadow of a tree that spread its foliage above his head, hiding him away from the questioning sun. Jon gave a few more gulps to the bottle, closed his eyes, and lied down on the grass, focusing on what he was listening to.

// …Consumed with memories that preceded today. Given the chance to bereave. Life was slipping away…. All that I know, there was no God for me; force that shatters all…. Absence of humanity… (1)* //

Still lying on the grass, he watched how people passed by with sadness. How hollow, how shallow it was to him. How everything to be known was meant to fade away.

He felt at ease just lying there; the smell of wet grass filling his lungs; feeling miserable, praising the glimpses of sky that shun between the leaves of the old tree behind him.

He fantasized about one day being part of the indifferent foliage.

// He’s the sum of all my fears, you know? // he dared to think while silent tears ran freely again.

{ Tears… such a waste of good suffering }

// Too late //

Regaining a sitting position, he toyed with the bandages covering his arm to check the wounds.

// This time it’s gonna be slow //

Jon drank what was left of the bottle and realized he was starting to feel it, lit a cigarette, and allowed dizziness to take over his system. When he stood up, he realized he could barely focus.

// Great. Now I’m wasted //

He smiled to the voice, looking for a poignant comment, but he got none.

Looking at the hour, anger rose in his veins.

Twelve.

// Why won’t it run faster? Why has time, too, condemned me to perpetual slumber? Why won’t the wondering stars hold me between their hungry breath anymore? //

His head hurt. Now he was pissed off.

// Well, better go see Mark…. //

Jon took the bus and crossed half the city. After twenty-five minutes, he stumbled his way down, his world spinning around and feeling sick. Taking in air, he walked down the street until he arrived to a crappy building that was falling to pieces, opened the door, and headed toward the third floor. He couldn’t even walk straight and it was starting to get on his nerves.

He knocked on the door at the end of the corridor. He could hear a voice swearing as the guy at the other side made his way to see who disrupted his morning.

Finally, a badly shaven face came to view, showing a smile of recognition that made the figure’s rough features even uglier.

“Jon!”

“Mark…” Jon replied with his head down, concentrating on not falling.

“Come in, man. Long time, no see.”

“Well, I was trying to get clean of this shit, but I realized it’s out of the question,” Jon mumbled while stepping in.

Mark laughed out loud.

“Fuck, Jon, you’re wasted!” the guy in pajamas laughed even more.

“Hey! Quit it, okay?!”

“Be cool, Jon. Want a beer?” Marked asked walking to the kitchen.

“Huh….”

“Here.” Mark handled him a beer .

Jon drank it desperately.

“So tell me, Jon, what brings you here? You surely didn’t come all the way to say hi,” Mark questioned with a serious voice.

“I’ve come here to talk about business….”

“Jonnie boy, I thought you weren’t coming back.” Mark stated laughing.

“Well, I’m a little short of money.”

“Hum… weren’t you out of business?”

“Yes… but life’s a bitch, then you die.”

Mark laughed even louder this time.

“All right, Jon, I see you haven’t lost that twisted humor of yours. I’m helping you out,” the guy replied with a smirk.

Jon took out plenty of money from inside his jacket and left it on the table in front of Mark.

“Whoa! And you were short of money?!”

“Here’s enough cash for you to get me back on track. Just this time, Mark, then I’m off.” Jon smiled behind half-lidded eyes.

“Sure, Jon…. Be right back.” And the lanky figure disappeared into the only room to be seen in the small place.

After a while, Mark returned with a brown wrapped bundle and handled it to Jon, who tucked it in his backpack.

“There’s enough cocaine, weed, and heroine for a month. It’s very good stuff, Jonnie, and if you manage to make it softer with something else then you double the income, okay? Just be careful you don’t get caught. If you do, we never met…. “

“Mark, you tell me this every time. I know how, when, where, and to whom…” interrupted Jon, who sank deeper in his seat.

Mark got up and walked toward Jon.

“Okay, then… be a good boy, Jon,” he said as he patted Jon’s head, showing him his twisted form of caring.

“Sure, Mark…” Jon smiled up at him with utter sarcasm tainting his voice.

Jon got up, took all of his crap, said farewell to Mark, and stumbled his way toward the entrance.

But while he was opening the door….

“And, Jon…?”

Jon turned his head to give the man behind him a furtive glance.

“I hope you find whatever you are looking for at the bottom of the bottle.”

Jon gave him a half-hearted smile and closed the door behind him.

(1)* : “Resurrection” by - Fear Factory -