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It’s not fair, is it?
Those words repeated themselves over and over and over again, burned into my brain as I sat in the mirror, alone, with nothing to keep me company but the eerie stillness interspersed with the occasional crackle of static.
No. It wasn’t fair. I felt a burst of anger at myself for coming to this dumb party. I had paperwork to do anyway. Police reports to review. Nothing good ever happened when I put off my duties as District Attorney. Now I was stuck here, in a mirror, inside a house that wasn’t even mine. What would happen when the public realized I was missing? What would happen when they realized Damien was missing?
Damien. He lied to me.
Celine. She lied too.
Were they even Damien and Celine anymore? Was it them that left me trapped here? Them who had stolen my body? I found it hard to believe Damien would do such a thing.
And what about the Colonel? And the Detective? What would they do? So many questions, ones with no answers.
Frustration twisted inside me. The emptiness was suffocating. There was nothing to distract me from the relentless intrusion of thoughts, question after question invading my mind, a growing sense of uneasiness enveloping my soul. A horrifying scream ripped out of me and echoed in the empty manor.
I screamed again. I screamed and screamed and screamed. Through it all, one phrase kept coming back into mind, as if it were mocking me.
It’s not fair, is it?