...But My Reflection, Chapter 6:

It wasn't like last time, where I fell through the mirror slowly, piece by piece, limb by limb. This was violent and sudden, and my head felt like it was splitting in two again. I thought there was something touching me, but I couldn't be sure, my eyes were shut tight, and I was hugging myself, trying to keep hold of the one solid thing in my crumbling world.

And then suddenly, time seemed to slow down, and I was gently floating in some aquaceous substance, something liquid but not.

You know how sanitizing gel feels? Gooey at first, and then it slowly mixes in with your skin, making your flesh feel wet and clean, but raw and fragile at the same time. That's how I felt, only, I was floating through this jelly like substance, like it was cleaning my entire body before I got spit some where else. It was so...bizarre...I didn't know what to think. Actually, I was thinking, that this falling through mirrors thing better not become a habit of mine. It wasn't fun...it was making mirrors scarier than they had ever been to me.

I know what you're thinking, why would you base an entire story off of mirrors, if they scared you...right? That's because Reflection was by all rights going to be a horror story when I first came up with the idea. Sure, it later became something deeper, something more complicated than a simple horror story, but regardless, it was going to be like friggin' Dracula. God, I loathe that movie...

Mirrors had always interested me, they always seemed mysterious and dark...I was always curious why people looked at themselves in them, and let their ego grow out of proportion. Why they let themselves sink into the hole of unnatural self-love. Not to mention, Mirrors always seemed like the windows into the soul...wasn't that why vampires, supposably, couldn't see themselves in mirrors? Because they had no souls? I mean, yeah, mirrors only reflect the fleshy outside of a creature, but I always liked to think there was more to it.

I must crucify the ego before it's far too late...

I don't know how long I was floating along in the goo, if I was even moving, I had lost all track of time, but it felt like I was asleep...only, I knew I wasn't. I wanted to talk to myself, comfort myself, but I was afraid I'd swallow all that goop if I opened my mouth at all. I was wondering how I was breathing, but couldn't find a suitable answer. Maybe none of this was real...but then...why were my nerves acting out of control? You can't feel an illusion.

This was just too weird. Even for me. And I revel in the weird.

I really discovered I wasn't dreaming, when I noticed I was actually drifting off to sleep. The solified liquid was rocking me back and forth, singing me it's own lullaby in an off key voice, and it was making me sleepy. Very sleepy. Yawn.

Before I knew it, I had let the Sandman take me off to an actual dreamland, only, I didn't dream.

XXX

I woke up again, without a headache, in front of the mirror in my room.

"Jesus Christ, it was all a dream..." I muttered to myself, feeling silly. For a dream, I could remember it awfully well. I yawned and stretched a little, cracking my back and rubbing my shoulders. I felt cold. Maybe it was because I had fallen asleep in a puddle of water...wait...what?

How the hell had that gotten there? There was no cup in sight, no one to pour water on me, nothing to explain why there was water clinging to my cooled flesh. How the hell could that have been real?! I mean, I just went through a fucking mirror and saw a world I had made up, and this pool of water was trying to tell me that was all real? Maybe I had pissed myself...no...it wasn't piss...it wasn't water either though...it wasn't blood or juice or milk or anything I could think of it to be...it kind of felt like tooth paste after you put it under the faucet...like...gel...

If I wasn't afraid of scaring the old ladies next door, I would have screamed. They hadn't heard me last night, because they were deep sleepers, but they would call the paramedics and break down my door if they had to. I didn't want that. So I stood up, stepping out of the substance and went to take a shower. I felt cleaner than I had in a really long time, but I wanted this stuff off of me. It made me feel dirty mentally.

I grabbed a towel and some clothes from the miscellaneous drawers scattered in my room and walked into the bathroom, throwing the clothing on a counter, and turning the hot water knob all the way to the left. Water streamed from the faucet as I switched the lever for the shower, and walked in. Damn, my bathroom was small, there wasn't even enough room for a cabinet for towels and washclothes...pathetic.

I closed my eyes and let the steaming water, that was causing a thin layer of fog to hang about the small room, wash away all the sins I felt I had committed and clear my mind. It was so jumbled with thoughts, things I didn't want to think about. I should tell Erik, I need to tell Erik...I couldn't stop thinking that, as I raked the strawberry shampoo through my hair, and lathered in the conditioner.

Had that really been real? My mind kept telling me no, but my body, my proverbial heart, and my soul knew it was. It had all been real. My Dante and Lamia and Caspian and Vel were all real. I had fucked up their lives...I mean, it wasn't like I knew they were real, or that I was really hurting anyone but myself...but damn...I had really screwed up.

Then again, the worst of the damage hadn't even effected them, so maybe, just maybe, they'd be spared. I should have gone into my room and deleted all those chapters, the mess I had created, but instead I lathered up some raspberry bar soap and spread it all over my body. It was pointless to delete anything, if those things were going to happen in their world, it was going to happen, whether or not those documents existed.

I was digging my nails into my flesh, trying to get all the dead skin off. You ever notice if you drag your nails along your skin when you're wet, a bunch of grayish stuff gets embedded in them? Yeah, that's your dead skin. It's disgusting. But on days like this, I feel like I have to scrape it all away. Like I was filthy. Sure, a lufa would have done the same, probably better, job but I wanted to do it manually, remove layer after layer, until my skin was red and cold water would make it burn.

I could hear the high pitched shrilling voice of the phone over the refreshing sound of water and decided to let the machine get it. It was probably just Erik anyway.

When I got all the soapy substances off of my body and out of my hair, and was done clearing away all the dead skin I could, I turned off the water and walked in front of the sink, staring at myself in the fogged up mirror. My face was blurred in the glass, and I was kind of grateful for that. I didn't want to stand there and pick out all the imperfections of body, the defects of the flesh, things I couldn't fix without getting major surgery on my face...

Who really gets to say what's beautiful or not anyway? I mean, who was the person at the dawn of time to tell people, this was pretty and that was ugly? I mean, there's no set pattern, so why is it, that people are cut down because of their diformities? Who the fuck gets to decide that? Why do all the dolls of the world look the same? How come there aren't any Barbies with big noses, or have one eye that's bigger than the other?

But that didn't matter then, all I wanted to do was get dressed, make some ramen, and then watch TV until I completely forgot about last night. Besides, Jerry Springer's probably on...if not, I could always watch soap operas...

I hurried up and slipped on my clothes, a short, ruffled, black skirt, my black Nine Inch Nails shirt, and black and white striped socks with a pink skull on them, and threw on some jewelry, shoving earrings that looked like handcuffs into my earlobes, tying a choker that resembled a piece of barbed wire with a heart-shaped lock laced through it around my neck, and clipping on a bracelet with the familiar handcuff pattern on it, along with lots of sex bracelets.

My hair was wet and notted and really needed to be brushed, but I was reluctant to do it. I hate brushing my hair, it seems like more and more hairs end up in the brush and it makes me think my hair is thinning. Which would really suck. And of course, there's the blow dryer (insert dirty joke here...you perverts...) which is always fun. Sure, it completly dries and cracks my hair, but it's so warm and nice feeling on my skin and my skulp.

After hair, came the time-consuming task of putting on make-up. Purple plum lipstick, pitch black mascara, and tons of eyeliner. It took forever to get the eyeliner just right, and to get the lipstick to be even and smooth, that's why I only wore make-up when I had the time to apply it properly.

I never bothered shutting the bathroom door, after all, I did live alone, so I just walked out into the kitchen and started boiling water for my ramen. Chicken, shrimp, or beef? Hmm...such a hard decision...wait...why the hell did I bother getting dressed up if I was going to eat ramen? I was such a messy eater, it would get all over my kick-ass clothes, and completely ruin my lipstick job. Damn. Oh well, I wasn't that hungry anyway.

I turned off the stove and put away the ramen packs. At least I could catch Jerry Springer...it was about eleven o'clock...

Eleven o'clock? I bolted over to my answering machine and checked the messages. Erik, Erik, solicitor, Erik...and...work...shit, I had totally forgotten I had work today, and the stupid alarm clock hadn't gone off. Even though I probably wasn't there to hear the buzzing of the clock.

There's nothing worst in the world than waking up after a long, hard night, and realizing your late for work and you're probably going to get fired. I would have to walk there too, and that would take me a good fifteen minutes if I was lucky. And I wasn't lucky. I grabbed my coat, which I probably didn't need, and ran outside, where dark storm clouds were gathering and the air seemed unusually warm, without even checking to make sure all the lights were out or the door was locked. I hate work days.

Butcher shops can either be great fun to work at, or disgusting and pointless. This was one of those days where my work there seemed pointless. And rather gross, considering I was covered in blood.

I had been scowled at for being late by my boss, gotten the co-worker who had to fill in for me pissed off, and was now all alone, chopping up a big slab of cow, a thick, brown, leather apron covering up most of the front of my body, and trying not to get the gloves that reached to my elbows too dirty. My butcher knife kept slicing into the meat mechanicly, making uneven cuts that I often had to chop through again. There was blood all over my apron and gloves, and on the table I was hacking it apart on. Nothing like slashing a cow's ass first thing in the morning.

At least I wasn't thinking about Reflection, or last night. No, I was busy being pissed off at my boss and Lee, my disgruntled co-worker.

I should just quit. Chop. I should get a job as a writer for the paper. Chop. I can't believe Lee told me I looked cute this morning. Chop. The pervert, he just wants to get in my pants...and after I tell him that I'm not in the mood for compliments, he gets pissed and yells at me for being late. Chop. What, is he my boss now? CHOP. And then, Mr. A yells at me too! What, like he's never been late before?! Stab. And then I'm stuck here by myself, cutting up some poor animal's ass, and I'm getting a dock from my pay? I should become a vegitarian...Slash. Nah, I like cream filled meat too much...haha...I wish someone was here to hear that. Ding.

"Ding?" For a moment, I thought I had cut through to the metal part of the table...and then I realized someone had rung the customer bell. I stuck the knife back into the bloody meat, and walked out to the counter.

"How can I...oh...it's you..." I sighed. It was Erik, wearing his favorite HIM shirt, the one with the pink heartagram on it, and a different pair of bondage pants, these with so many zippers on them, I didn't even bother to count. There was something new and silver embedded in his bottom lip, making me want to kick him hard in the balls. That better not be what I think it is...

"I'm glad to see you too..." He muttered, and then smiled at me. "And how's my princess in blood soaked leather doing this afternoon?"

"Oh my god, Erik, what is that...thing?" I was refering to the ring sticking out of his lip, like he had been in a bike accident and had gotten something lodged into his skin. His smile widened and he touched the silver thing tenderly.

"Do you like it? I did it myself last night!" He sounded like an excitable little child. I would have put my hand to my head, but I didn't fancy getting cold blood all over myself.

"Erik...why would you do that...Yourself? It's going to get infected, like your self-enduced belly-button ring did and-"

"Don't worry, I thought about that, and I made sure to disinfect the ring first this time, and I'll take good care of it so it doesn't close up." He seemed satisfied but I wasn't. Sure, it was hot, but Erik's skin was fragile, and tended to get infected easily. I can still remember the prince albert incident...shudder...

"Honey, I love you, but if I have to go through another night of 'Erin it hurts! Why did you ever let me do this?', I am going to leave you." That was a lie, I would never leave Erik because of something so stupid.

"Don't worry," He said again. "Besides, Billie helped me do it, and he's had experience with this stuff." Billie was one of my best friends, and Erik's too. He was a total slave to metal music, and was the lead singer and bassist for Outshined, a pretty popular metal band around here. He was cute too, and, as much as I'd hate to admit, did know a thing or two about piercings. He also knew how to talk Erik into doing the stupidest things.

"I'm going to be calling Billie up and yelling at him when I get home." I shook my head and smiled a little. "But I have to admit, you look dead sexy with that."

"Damn straight I do...wait until you see what else I did!" I gave him a worried look and he shrugged it off. Please, don't let it be another prince albert, please, please, please... "I got a tattoo!"

"You got a-" Before I could finish, Erik lifted up his shirt a little bit and revealed the soft flesh of his stomach, pale and pretty looking against the black of his clothes. He wore his pants so low, that I could almost see the entire tattoo. If his pants were an inch lower, I think I would have been able to see his genitals.

The tattoo was hot pink and purple, a heartagram design that matched Ville Valo's. I wanted to slap Erik at that point.

"What in gods name were you thinking?"

"It's cool, isn't it?" What could I say? He was stuck with that monstrosity now. Mind you, it was cool looking, and made Erik even hotter, but that wasn't going to be worth the hell that would ensue. In a day or two, it would start scabbing up because Erik was too damn lazy to take care of it properly.

"I know you think Ville's hot, and he is, even I have to admit that, but damn Erik. You're not that obsessed." Yeah, yeah, my boyfriend likes boys too. He's bi, okay? Got a problem with it? Then go fuck yourself. Personally, I loved the fact that Erik was bi. Well...most of the time...it was cool to take him to movies with me or watch TV and we could both agree that a guy was hot. Erik was the kind of boyfriend who'd watch Queer Eye for the Straight Guy with me and thurouly enjoy it. It could make me uneasy too...it's weird, but sometimes I'd wonder if Erik's cheating on me with one of his guy friends, or if he's checking out every hot person he sees...Then again, I could pay him to make out with his friends for my own enjoyment, so I never complained.

"I think it looks cool, that's all." He said, trying to sound innocent but failing immensely.

"Well, I'm glad you don't want to copy Mr. Valo, because his heartagram tattoo is blue, not hot pink." I pointed out. Erik blinked and pouted a little.

"I knew there was something wrong with it this morning..." He muttered.

"Were you and Billie drunk or something? You weren't driving were you?" I asked, concerned. I would have to hurt him if he had been driving around drunk off his ass.

"I had a few drinks...erm...I don't think Billie did, he drove..."

"So, he was sober and he convinced you to do two stupid things in one night? And why the fuck were you drinking anyway?" I was very unhappy. Billie could be so completely irresponsible sometimes, and it was Erik's nature to do stupid things. Billie was going to get screamed at when I saw him next.

"It's okay Erin, geez...besides, I didn't come here to get yelled at by you, I wanted to know if you can leave early today." I got off at 8 and it was around 7:40 then...Did I dare leave the slaughter house without someone watching it?

"There's no one else here, sorry sweetie...but you can hang out here for like twenty minutes until someone comes and can cover the rest of my shift, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure..." He said, propping himself up on a cleared spot on the counter. I was about to tell him that probably wasn't a good place to sit, but decided it wouldn't do any good. Erik never listened to anything I said, which was quite evident by the big silver thing sticking out of his face and the brightly colored skin. The good thing about the tattoo: Erik would only wear shirts when he had to, so he could show off his now, officially sexy torso.

"Did you cry when it got done?" I asked him. He shrugged.

"Nah, you know me, I don't cry." He said. I laughed. "What?"

"Remember the time last year, when that one little kid got the last Invader Zim lip balm at Hot topic, and you started crying?" I had to choke out the words between laughs. "Or, when we were watching Titanic and you started crying? And the people weren't even dead yet...or that time you got a D on that one science test...or that time I kicked you in the balls."

"Do you know how much that hurts? If I kicked you there and you had balls, you'd cry too." He muttered.

"My point is, you cry a lot Erik, and I sincerely doubt you didn't cry while you had a huge thing like that etched into your skin, especially so close to Pable." Haha, I remembered his name! "Besides, you're afraid of needles."

"Oh, look at me, I'm Erin, I know everything about Erik." He said, mocking my voice. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"That's right, I do." I said.

"Do you feel better than you did last night?" He asked, leaning back on the counter. I was afraid he was going to fall off and crack his skull open.

"Last night?" My mind was moving slowly. What had happened last night? Oh, right, sick. "Oh, sorry, erm yeah...I think I just had a stomach ache or something..."

"You know, I called you a few times this morning. I was worried about you." Shit. The last thing I wanted to do, was get Erik worried about me...though, he probably should have been.

"Yeah, I know, I would have called you back but I slept in late and I was late for work..." I sighed deeply. "I'm gonna get fired if I keep this shit up."

"That's okay, you could always work at Spencer's with me." He grinned. I groaned. I would not work in Spencer's. Don't get me wrong, I went shopping there a lot, as a matter of fact, the promise ring Erik gave me was from Spencer's. A kick ass pentagram with a red jewel in the middle, silver of course. But, I couldn't deal with the weird, perverted people, having to ring up the disturbing products and wonder what the hell said person was going to do with it. I mean, come on, sparkly purple dildos? Fuzzy vibrators? Edible under-wear? Please, I don't want to know what you're going to do with that. But Erik, he enjoyed every minute of it, having long conversations with the customers, examining the strange artifacts, asking questions and making people feel awkward.

"You like AFI? That's so cool, what's your favorite song?" or "This is a fucking hilarious shirt, I might pick one up later..." or "Oooo fuzzy handcuffs, what are you going to do with those?", things like that. It was impossible to talk to him at work. I had to stand in a line.

"I'm not working in Spencer's." Regardless, I smiled a little.

"Alright, alright...hey, are you wearing the smex boots?" He asked, finally noticing the skirt I had on. Wearing a skirt generally meant I was wearing "the smex boots".

I rolled my eyes. "Yes," The "smex boots" were my knee-high, black, lace-up boots, that seemed to turn Erik on or something.

"Heh, am I going to get lucky tonight?"

"Unless you count getting kicked in the balls as lucky, no." I growled.

"You're so mean to me Erin, you're such an abusive lover." He fake sobbed.

"Damn straight I am bitch, now go make dinner." We both laughed a little. I was going to get yelled at for not finishing the slab of meat in the back room, but I really didn't care. I felt bad for ditching Erik last night and figured I should spend time with him now, so he didn't think I had done it because I didn't want to be with him.

"...I want cake..." Erik muttered.

"Me too..."

"White cake..."

"With pink frosting..."

"And sprinkles..."

"Lots of sprinkles..."

"Let's go get some!" Erik suggested.

"I'm broke...and I need to finish my shift before I can go, or at least someone else has to get here." I said.

"That's okay, I have money to blow...and I think someone's here now..." He said, and he was right. The door creaked open, revealing a large Italian man, wearing a tan trench coat. Marvin. Marvin the Terrible as we all fondly referred to him as at work. He was the least pleasant person to work with...

"Hey Marv," I smiled, trying to be pleasent. He grunted, and hung his jacket up on the wooden holder. I began stripping off the gloves as I talked, "I'm gonna leave now, it's been a slow day. I'll seeya tomorrow." I worked the knot out of the apron and pushed some of the loose strands of my hair out of my face. I didn't want to stay any longer than I had to, especially with Marvin around.

Erik hopped off of the counter, and grabbed my coat for me, along with his umbrella.

"Come on, let's get going before there's like a flood or something." Erik ushered me out. "Besides, I left Prometheus out here."

"You did? And you weren't afraid anyone would steal him?" Prometheus was Erik's dog, a husky wolf mix, and completely adorable.

"Nah, no one would want him, besides, he likes the rain."

"You left him outside in the rain? I should call animal cruelty services..." I muttered. Erik smiled and held the door open for me, stepping on to the empty side-walk, cold rain pouring down on me. Prometheus' leash was tied to one of the fake plastic trees that decorated the front of the butcher shop, and his tail began waging as soon as he saw me. I'd known Prometheus since he was a puppy, which was a good eight years. Most people would have said he was an old dog, but he didn't look it.

"Hey puppy," I scratched the top of his head, then turned to Erik, scowling. "How could you have left him out here? Your mom's gonna freak..."

"Mumsies not gonna find out now, is she?" He replied, untying the chain from the fake tree. Prometheus had a kick ass spiky dog collar on, one that Erik's mom didn't like her dog wearing. By all rights, Prometheus belonged to Erik's mom, but Erik always took care of him.

"Wanna open that umbrella?" My clothes were wet, clinging to my body like some cotton skin.

"Aww, but you're so hot when you're all wet like that!" Erik whined. I grabbed the black umbrella from him and opened it up, trying to cover my entire body so I didn't get any more water on my than I needed to.

"Let's just go..." I said, and we both started walking, Erik pulling his dog with and getting completly soaked.

"So, how was your night last night?" He asked, shoving his free hand into his pocket. I shrugged.

"Interesting..."

"Really, what do you mean by that?" He asked, intrigue showing in his cat-green eyes.

"Erik, love, you wouldn't believe me if I tried to tell you..." I hadn't meant to say that outloud...not really anyway...

"Oh come on! I wanna know!" He chided.

"Well..." I bit down on my tongue and thought for a moment. I couldn't just tell him I fell through a mirror and saw the world I created, could I? Not in public anyway. "Did you drive the E-mobile here?" Such a stupid question, he would have had to drive his car to get around here. His house was like ten miles from town.

"Yep," He said, cheerfully. I was wondering why he wasn't miserable. He should be having a hang over. "I parked it about a block from here."

"I'll tell you when we're in it, 'kay?" I was staring at the wet side-walk, counting the cracks and avoiding eye contact. I didn't want Erik to think anything was wrong, then he'd demand to know now. And I didn't know how I was going to tell him I fell through a fucking mirror.

"Yeah, sure...Erin, honey, are you sure your okay?" He asked. My eyes continued staring at the side-walk, like they were glued in place...10, 11, 12...

"I'm fine," I managed to glance up at him and smile. He smiled back, but none of the worry was gone from his face. He knew I wasn't fine.

We walked the rest of the way to the car in silence. The e-mobile looked as dirty as ever, mud clung to the rain-slick door handle as I opened it. I sat down on the roughly appolstered seat, straightening my skirt out so no one could see the lovely cherry colored thong I was wearing under it. Yeah, I know you wanted to hear that, no need to thank me.

Erik let Prometheus get in the back, and the first thing he did was shake out his fur. I got soaked, but I was already wet so it didn't really matter. Erik got in next, putting his hand through his hair, and shaking his body a little in the same manner as the dog. Erik reminded me of a cute little puppy, that had been abandoned in the rain.

"What do you want to listen to?" Erik started up the rapturous engine and grabbed his black CD case from the dash board. He flipped through the plastic pages, and I laid my head against the cold window.

"What ya got?" I asked, staring blankly forward at the slippery street and the wobbly cars.

"Uh...Nightwish, Primus, Pantera, Cradle of Filth, AFI, Soundgarden, Hole, Muse, Slipknot, Korn..." He paused like he didn't want to say the next one. "Tool..."

"What CD?"

"Lateralus..." He spat out the name like a curse.

"Put it in." I wasn't asking, I was demanding.

"Come on Erin!" He whined. "We listen to this whenever you're in the car!"

"No, we listen to Undertow every time I'm in the car."

"Same thing!"

"Erik, half the time you make me listen to HIM, so stop complaining." I growled.

"What's wrong with HIM?" He asked, defensive of his favorite band.

"Nothing, if your a fangirl." I was a closet HIM fan, and refused to admit even to the people closest to me that I would sing Buried Alive By Love in the shower, or that I'd rock out to Join Me In Death at random, at home.

"What the fuck is your problem today?" I must have said the last thing, meaner than I had meant to.

"Lots...Please, just put it in." He seemed reluctant, but regardless popped the CD in and skipped a few songs to Reflection, the one song in the world I didn't want to hear. I closed my eyes and listened to the rhymic guitar, the beating drums...the singing hadn't even started yet, but I felt like I was going to be sick. I loved this song so much, it was so pretty, but it brought painful memories up, memories that might seem meager to a normal person, but to Erin Riley, it meant a lot.

I think Tool's music was the only music that could make me cry. Even before I had made a mess of things in my life, in their lives, Tool had brought out that much emotion in me. Who knew a song about fisting could make me sob?

"So, you gonna tell me what's wrong?" He asked, pulling his rust bucket of a car onto the road. It swerved a little, but I didn't notice.

"Where do I begin? Oh god, Erik...What the hell's wrong with me? Last night I-...Ever since I..." It seemed like all the emotions I'd been bottling up, keeping hidden from the rest of the world like some sacred relic, were leaking out now. I think my eyes were tearing up, but I didn't need to cry. It was a silent, involuntary weeping, and I wanted it to stop.

"You can talk to me baby, you know I'll listen." He said. I gulped and decided to try again.

"Erik...I...Do you remember, when Vel died?" I asked. It took him a minute to figure out who I was talking about, but regardless knew. Erik had been one of the people who had encouraged me to put Reflection on the website.

"How could I forget? That was so sad...a great chapter, probably the best one you've ever wrote, the metaphor's were so great, and you really brought the emotion and the bitter sweet picture of death out...Honestly, it's my favorite, even though Vel was my favorite character..." He complimented me, the same way he did when he first read the chapter. Welll...no...first time he read the chapter, he called me a bitch...then he re-thought that and gave me a ton of compliments.

"Thanks...hey, wait, I thought Paris was your favorite character..." I muttered.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I love Paris, and would happily get in his pants any day if he were real...but there's was something about Vel I liked more..." He said, thoughtfully. "Anyway, you were saying?"

"Ever since then, everything's been falling apart around me...I mean, I can't write Reflection any more, and I'm becoming obsessed with it...the people around me are betraying me...and...I've just never felt so alone in my life...maybe I'm depressed? Maybe I'm grieving his death because he was important me, whether he was real or not...what am I saying? He was real...Erik...you're never going to believe me...but last night, when I went home, I went to sleep and I woke up at like 3 and...and...I went through a mirror, just like Alice In Wonderland, and I...I saw my world. Reflection's world. I saw Casi and Dante and Lamia...and...and...Christ Erik, it was all real!" It all came out in one breath, one big stream of words. I had meant to say more, you know how before you say something really important to someone, you rehearse it a few times? Well, I had been doing that all day at the butcher shop, and now, now I was sitting here, telling him less than half of what I had wanted to say.

"Erin...er..." Erik looked confused. He didn't know what to say, I didn't blame him. We sat in silence for a long while, Erik looking at the road in newly found interest. "Maybe I should take you to see a doctor..."

"Look, I know how it sounds, but it really did happen! I mean, I didn't believe it did at first either, but I woke up this morning in front of the mirror, in a big puddle of...stuff." I said, covering my face with my hands. "I'm not crazy."

"I didn't think that...I just...Erin, I've had delusions before, and they can seem pretty damn real...I just think you might be sick...you really have been stressed out, and that mental stress is becoming physical stress, so you're probably getting the flu or something...your immune systems probably down." He said, brushing his hand over my arm.

"That's what I thought it was...but...I mean...it was just too real..." I could still feel the burning lake water in my mouth, and the cold soup I had eaten.

"I know honey...but it wasn't..." He sighed. " I am not leaving you alone tonight...I'm gonna drop you off, go home and tell Mumsies' where I'm going to be so she doesn't get worried, and then come back to your apartment and spend the night..." Erik still lived with his parents, who were awesome by the way, and had to make sure his mother knew where he was, otherwise she had a fit.

"Okay," I was thankful, very thankful for that. I didn't want to spend another night alone in that room. Not with that mirror there. Even if it was just an illusion, I didn't want to do anything stupid. I didn't want to die because I fell into that stupid mirror or anything.

I wish I would have never agreed to let Erik stay with me.

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Author's Notes: Oh, yay me, I beat a week of writer's block! Erm...I'm pretty pleased with the outcome of this chapter, considering how the other 5 drafts turned out...I use a lot of allusions in my writing...or maybe it's just this sotry...who knows...

Umm...just for the record, the Tool song about fisiting, is just a metaphor for something deeper. You should go listen to it. It's called stinkfist. It's a beautiful song, despite what one might think about it.