This is my first fiction on FictionPress. I don't know if you'll like it or if you'll read it. This story isn't really in the mood for me to babble on, so I'm going to stop now.

MIRROR OF BLACK

Shadows in a Mirror

She was alone. She was always alone. Alone in her room of shadows.

No one knew about the room. She felt like laughing, but she never did. She just sat there, looking in the mirror. She saw herself in the mirror. She didn't like what she saw.

The room didn't exist. Not really. It was all in her head. She was imagining it all. It was the room where she went when she was feeling alone. Or was that room what made her feel alone?

She wanted it to go away forever. To everyone else she was a picture perfect. She was pretending for them all, putting on a mask and putting on a show. They didn't know about what went through her head. She had made that room, the room in the back of her mind, full of shadows.

It wasn't cold when she only thought about it. But if she imagined herself in it, the air seemed to freeze. The mirror would reflect the shadows. It would reflect her too, as if she was a shadow herself. It reflects a shadow when they see only light.

Am I a shadow, reflected by a mirror of truth? Am I fooling them all? I ask myself these questions over and over, and sometimes I think I have an answer. Then it slips away.

Always it slipped away. If she told anyone, they would think she was crazy.

Maybe she was crazy.

Maybe there was no world outside her dark, shadowfilled room. Maybe she was stuck here forever.

No. No. No. It pounded in her ears like a heartbeat. There had to be another place. This room wasn't real.

I have to go back. Have to go back to pretending.

She didn't like hearing her thoughts. They scared her. She shut them away, put them under lock and key and looked the other way. If she let them come to the surface, she would know the truth about herself. She would know that something was wrong. If someone could hear her thoughts, they would have told her not to be ridiculous.

She locked them away. She was afraid of them.

Suddenly, she grabbed a pencil and a pad of paper. There were things in her imaginary room, she could imagine them so vividly.

"Yes. Yes. That's it," she whispered.

Why?

Why do I see a shadow in that mirror?

If I write them down... the thoughts that scare me... if I try and figure it out... I can't write them anywhere... they'll never find it here.

I'm facing them. I have to face them. If it doesn't scare me, I'm going to write it down. I'm going to write the story of that room down.

I have to face that shadow in the mirror.