MirrorMirror

22 / Play Dead

If Cassidy had been drinking his morning coffee, he would have spat it out explosively, its contents spraying the glass.

Thankfully, he wasn't, so instead, he merely stared.

Reading the words was like a blade shoved directly into his eyes with each letter.

I

Stab.

D

Stab.

I

Stab.

E

Stab.

D

Stab...

And so on.

Why would she tell him that? How did she know the date would have a relevance to him? Was she toying with him, now she had him on side? He felt a cold sensation rising through his body, starting at his calves and turning his innards to ice as it travelled upwards. As it passed his chest, his heart began to race. When it reached his neck, he felt it constrict from the inside, gripping his throat.

He lifted his hands, clawing his neck, trying to break the hold, but, as it wasn't external, there was nothing to hold on to. He felt as if he was being strangled, but internally.

He dropped to his knees, trying unsuccessfully to speak. To beg.

"Hel...!"

He fell sideways, smashing his head against the partially open door. Luckily, it had space to move, and the impact knocked it shut. If it had been fully closed already, so a solid object, the blow might have been much worse. As it was, by the time he hit the floor, Cass's eyes were closed and he was unconscious.

There was silence in the house, a silence not just from within, but from without, too. Cars passed by. Passers-by passed by. A group of teenagers, only recently passing the teen mark, were joking and laughing. Three of them were on their phones, typing while chatting, the key presses a tone that would annoy anyone able to hear it. A dog, being walked by its tall, balding and heavily tattooed owner, barked at nothing in particular. Its owner shushed it with a sharp word and sharper tug of the lead. Two streets away, a police car's siren, accompanied by the flashing blue lights, wailed as the officers responded to a call over their radio.

The world turned as noisily as it generally was.

Yet, there was silence in the house. The sounds from outside did their best to push their way in through the window panes. They huddled up against the locks, hoping to worm their way through. They lurched towards the very slightly opened window in the spare front bedroom that Cassidy had opened when he first moved in, wanting to let some airflow dissipate the stuffiness pervading the house. He'd forgotten to close it, but it was only open a crack. Barely anything. Sound needed only the slightest opportunity to gain entrance.

But, it could not.

Around Cassidy, and stretching to the furthest extents of his home, there wasn't a single ripple in the quiet. There was also no movement, with the spiders lurking in the corners and shadows, not wanting to disturb the peace.

The house remained that way for the three and a half hours. Part way through that time, the writing on the mirror faded. The lipstick ants didn't run. They disappeared, then reappeared.

Cassidy?

Are you OK?

The words stayed until Cass stirred. His finger twitched. His eyelids flickered. He groaned. He sat up, slowly, and gingerly touched the sore area that had connected with the door. There was a small lump, but no blood, thankfully. At first, he couldn't remember what had happened. He looked around the room, hoping something would jog his memory. Had he tripped? After falling down the...