Chatterbox: Mirrors

To find out more about these monthly chatterboxes, head on over to Rachel’s Inkpen Authoress! 🙂

And now… for the chatterbox. 😉

“Oh, I wish you’d just go die,” I hissed. My fingers scraped against the skin over my heart. The organ wanted to stop its never-ending job of just beating. Its incessant bah-bump, bah-bump was keeping me alive and if even the organ created for the sole purpose of maintaining my existence wanted out, so did I.

I lifted my eyes to meet those of my reflection. The blue irises rimmed in red and black lashes with the mascara running as freely as the tears tracked black traces of the struggle down my cheeks.

“You really don’t want to give up, you know.”

I looked at the young man’s face over my reflection’s shoulder. He was leaning against the wall behind me. I whirled around to see him directly. How did he get in here? I hadn’t heard him. I’d never seen him before. Why was he in my house?

But no one was there. I turned back to face the mirror. He was right behind me.

“What the-” I started, but he held a finger to his pale lips. The man’s eyes were shaded by the darkness that consumed me.

“You don’t want to give up because someone out there needs you,” he explained.

I shook my head. “No one needs me.”

“Yes, they do,” was the insistent response. “You don’t know it. How could you possibly know it? You’re not the one who needs you.”

“How could I help anyone?” I snarled. “And how did you get in my house?” I turned to see him, but invisible hands gripped my shoulders and turned me back around. I glowered at him in the mirror. “Who the heck are you?”

“I’m the little voice in the back of your mind that whispers…

“Hold on. Something better is coming.”


“The pain that you’ve been feeling can’t compare to the joy that’s coming.”

-Romans 8:18-

God bless!



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