How The Broken Mirror Saw Her <3

Instructions

How the Broken Mirror Saw Her (Through The Looking Glass) People always assume that the reflection comes second. But no one ever wonders what happens on the other side. What they do waiting, hoping for your return. She knew that all too well. The waiting, the anticipation. Amelia Stone was a pretty girl. Always had been. At some point, she’d come to love Amelia. After all, Amelia gave her life. Gave her a purpose. It hadn’t been hard to slip something into Amelia’s food, drag the girl into Amelia’s car—Amelia was strong, after all—and take her into a desolate castle. She didn’t know why she’d chosen this place. It just seemed right for what was to come. It had been a slow thing, slipping into Amelia’s life. Going to the library, visiting the jewellery store, catching up for dinner. And this was what Amelia wanted, wasn’t it? Why else would she make her so pretty, so strong? She didn’t know where loving Amelia stopped and wanting to be Amelia started. Maybe they both were her demons. Taking her hand and walking alongside her. She hadn’t realized when Amelia had woken up, but she’d heard the shuffle of her feet as Amelia tried to run. Amelia’s hearing had always been great. But this wasn’t right, this wasn’t Amelia. Amelia doesn’t run. Amelia Stone doesn’t back away from a fight. But Amelia was running, so she had to run too. Run towards her life, run towards her purpose. The girl in front of her was something to be pitied. Her hair matted and in knots. Her baggy clothes the same from a week ago. Sometimes, she wondered if she should wear those clothes too, if she should leave her hair out long enough. But she knew this wasn’t the real Amelia Stone. This was just Amelia giving her an opening, telling her that it’s her turn now. So she ran, further, faster. And she grabbed Amelia’s ankle, both of them crashing into the ground. She saw Amelia look her up and down, studying her in Amelia’s favorite dress. Amelia was wearing the sweats she wore on weekends with the books she really liked. She really liked those sweats—her face throbbed. Amelia pushed her off, taking advantage of the punch that caught her off guard. Shoving, pushing, screaming, crying. It was all too unclear. Too blurry. Too wrong. Why was Amelia fighting so hard? She wanted this. They both wanted this. They both needed it. Amelia needed to get away from her life and she needed to get into it. So why was Amelia fighting so hard? It came out of nowhere, the shove. Amelia Stone was strong, after all. She went flying, slamming into the wall. The world fell upside down, taking her with it. She reached for Amelia, to tell her that it was okay. That she could be strong Amelia again, the real Amelia. She wasn’t sure how it happened. She was just happy that it did. A faint crack making way for the collapse. She made her way over to the hole. Faster than she should’ve, faster than Amelia would. She looked down at herself falling, engulfed in the darkness. And then Amelia waved goodbye to her double, content that she was not the one at the sinking end.