Demon Past
When I look in the mirror, I have to focus on my reflection. The demons of my past dance in the shadows around me. They beckon me to lean closer, to reach out and take their hand. I feel them brush against my skin. I turn to see but they are gone. I shiver uncontrollably, knowing if I look again they’ll be there to haunt me. Always in the shadows of my reality.
I cover the mirror with the black cloth and hurry back to bed. The old woman had warned me to never uncover them. There won’t be any sleep, tonight.
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