House for Lost Things - Part Eight

Hey guys! This is part eight of the House for Lost Things. We hope you enjoy it and would love to have your feedback. Please read it and pass it on!

IMPORTANT NOTE: As Christmas nears, there MAY be a short hiatus. Also, as this story draws to a close we are looking to you, the audience for more ideas for the next story. Please comment or email cherise.tess@gmail.com or nevermoreemergingflame@gmail.com with your ideas and feedback. Thanks!

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Master clutches my arm and half-drags me quickly out to the front room. I trot some to keep up with his pace, tugging against his hold. He drags me until I stand about six feet away from the Mirror and then stops. His jaw is twitching as he releases my arm.

Show me what?

“Stay here,” he ordered. “I don’t want you getting sucked into nothingness.”

I frown at him a little and cross my arms over my chest. Master approaches the Mirror with now evident reluctance. I hear him exhale shakily as he stops in front of the Mirror.

Turning my attention to the Mirror, I watch the reflective surface. It ripples and shimmers and shakes silently. My heart seizes a little.

“Master, come away, it will--”

“No, it won’t,” his voice is a growl. “This, Esme, is what happens when people stop looking for you.”

The Mirror’s surface appears so agitated by Master’s presence that it might very well split apart and shatter. The frame jostles and the glass oval heaves inside of it. Then, it goes still. The ripples slowly dissipate, not into any scene from the Outside, but once more into the motionless, reflective pool. I can see myself, standing disheveled behind Master.

Master looks back at me. I feel myself tremble a little bit and I look up at him, arms lowering to my sides.

“Nothing,” he says firmly. “I’ve stood in front of this Mirror a thousand times and this is what it offers: Disappointment and hopeless dreams of returning to a life that no longer exists!” His voice rises with every word and he slowly works his way closer.

I fall back several steps as his voice increases. I read the pain and anger in his gaze, the anguish and hate in his voice, the desperation in every muscle of his body. It makes me want to run, to hide, to cry.

To go home.

“I kept you away from the Mirror to protect you from that!” he yells at me.

Tensing I scoot away again, shaking my head.

“Yes,” he said firmly, gaze darkening, continuing to advance on me. “You don’t deserve to live with that disappointment. It was better for you to remain in the dark than to live with the pain of knowing that there is no one,” his arm extends behind him as he stabs a finger toward the Mirror. “No one out there that loves you anymore.”

My shoulders hunch forward at the words and I cover my mouth with a hand, doubling over in my shock.

That’s not true! That can’t be true!

My brow creases in silent agony and my stomach clenches. I hear Master’s rough, harsh breathing and see him lower his arm. His face starts to soften some and he appears weary once more.

How could he say that?

“Esme,” he begins to speak, voice soft and coaxing.

I straighten up slowly. But as his hand rests on my arm, I jerk it away. Shaking my head, I look up at him. I can feel the anger bubbling in my chest, the denial and hurt in my face. I push his hand away.

“Who are you?” I ask in a growled whisper.

Before he can answer, I turn and find myself rushing out of the room. For once, I don’t cry. I run, run far away, up the stairs to the Tower. Slamming the large door shut behind me, I race across the room and fall against the window, pressing my face to it.

I look out across the green hills, the mountains, the skies. I see everything below, alive and fresh. The realization of truth trickles down into my soul, like the melting snow into the green sprouts beneath it.

I’ve spent eight years under the spell of this man who lied to me. And I don’t even know his name.

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