Tuesday, October 15, 2013

You will find no faces on my bedrooms walls. There are no people. No friends, no loved ones.
I don't mind them during the day.
But once it is night, once the sun is gone and my brain changes for the worse, they frighten me.
I think that they are looking at me.
When I was younger I couldn't look into a mirror at night.
I'd read something somewhere once. There was this girl, and she looked into the bathroom mirror, and her eyes didn't belong to her anymore. There was someone else in them.
I believed in demons back then.
Because my mother had told me that they were real. So I avoided mirrors past 5pm in winter and 9pm in summer, and each night I prayed fervently to a god I'd never felt, and didn't love.
I prayed desperately and fearfully, begging for an angel to be sent in the night to guard my door and keep me from harm. I prayed for everyone I knew, and some people I didn't.
As if that would earn me extra points.
As if that would keep me safe.
My mother was afraid of the night as well. She would move through the house, checking windows and doors once everyone else was asleep. She would draw the curtains and weigh them down with heavy objects, vases, and saucepans lids, hoping that their clatter would sound the alarm were our boundaries breached.
In the morning I would remove them, and let the light in.