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Mirror Into Myself chpt 1.
Mirror Into Myself
-Sometimes I lay restless in bed, gazing upon the ceilings of my small apartment.
As I gaze I begin to see images that connect together in which they form a movie.
It is as if my I am sitting alone in a movie theater while the film unfolds onto the screen.
As I lay looking upon this movie I begin to feel a tremendous knot in the pit of my stomach as my throat becomes clenched.
I feel as if my body was turned upside down and my insides seeped out slowly through me.
The epic story upon the ceiling was that of a young child, from my analysis it seems this boy was in a great deal of pain.
It seems this child wandering around the house, was weeping in sorrow as if a great stone was crushing his heart.
The boy holding a small teddy bear in his left hand, walking down a dark hallway looked to be trying to say something and also as if he was looking for something.
It became clear to me this child was very distraught, but as I peered more closely and tried to hear the words of the boy, I felt a sharp pain in my chest, as if I had been pierced deep by a knife and the coldness of the blade went clear through my flesh and cut deep into my soul.
Watching the grotesque images in the background as the boy slowly walked down the dark hallway I realized the boy was hurt and was limping.
As I listened closely and stared at the lips of the young boy as he uttered his words, they became clear to me.
He was saying “Mommy where are you, is daddy hurting you?”, but there was no response.
The only sound I could hear was the cold wind whistling down the hallway as it brushed against his face, hitting the tears violently pouring from his eyes.
Walking the boy stopped at the end of the hallway, looked up at a rather large and tall door, but something was bothering me deeply.
The door which this boy stood before was all white with no door handle at all.
What was intriguing was not that the door handle was gone, but there was a shape in the door as if it was fit for a key, but the shape of the key was that of the boy’s hand.
The key was also about eight feet taller than the boy.
Impossible I must say for this child, this infant, this toddler, at the most to reach and open this door.
The boy began to jump in front of the door, trying desperately to reach the key
shape at the top of the door.
But astoundingly the boy began to scream” Mommy, Mommy, Mommy open the door.
For some strange reason, my heart began pounding in my chest quickly and ferociously in a way I have never felt before.
It sounded like the loud banging of hammer trying to attend to a sword being shaped into its
proper form, I became overwhelmed by this sudden emotion.
As I continued to watch the young boy shouting at the door,
he stopped shouting and looked behind him, peering into the darkness as if he could see something my eyes could not.