Tied Together With String

AUDIENCE: Those you have lost someone or those who are lost themselves.

PURPOSE: An exploration into the subconscious and beyond, as we walk the thin line between life and death.

Grabbing my black jacket from under a pile of old newspapers, I quickly made my way out of the apartment. It had been snowing; the fresh powdery crystals were everywhere. Like a big white carpet stretching as far as the eye could see. To think what mysteries could lie beneath it’s icy sheets.

Staring back at me I saw my reflection out of the edge of a car rear view mirror. Those eyes. Those cold grey eyes. It was as if they were reading my thoughts, delving into the very depths of my consciousness, my very soul, my very being. I tried to pull away yet my eyes and my mind lay transfixed, trapped in that hypnotic, icy stare.

Minutes passed, hours even. The sky grew fainter and the surrounding noise dimmed until but a mere whisper of its former self. Colder and colder it grew to, the wind’s once gentle touch now a sharp brisk pain across my left cheek.

Was this to be my fate, to reside in my reflection, a shadow trapped within a shadow?

‘You have those eyes’

‘What?’ I said surprised, my gaze finally broken.

‘Those eyes, those same grey eyes. Those same eyes that seek some sort of acceptance from the world, yet receive only empty words. Those same eyes that strain to see the good in everyone but in return are met with pain and loneliness.’

This voice…. was I imagining it. No one was across the street, or by the corner….. I must be losing it.

‘There are ways to end it you know. I can help you.’

‘Who are you!!!?’

‘Would you like me to help you?’

Who is this guy? If he does truly wish to help me then why doesn’t he show himself?

The voice came again, ‘Would you like me to help you, to put an end to this pain that you have unfairly suffered all this time.’

‘Show yourself’

‘I’m right here. In fact I’ve always been here.’

‘What do you mean here, who are you………what do you want?’

‘Look closely at the mirror’

I looked back over at the mirror, my reflection it was ……I……. was smiling……..I was smiling.  Or should I say, it was someone else that was smiling. Not entirely someone else but……..it was as if I had two sides. One side was me; the fed up with his job alcoholic that just wants life to be better. And the other ………me…….I mean he………was different. Although like me, he seemed to have purpose, direction. I on the other hand, was trapped between a mirror and my apartment.

How awkward I must appear and understandably so, standing here at 8:00 in the morning……. staring off into space like this. People frantically making their way to work, toast protruding from their mouths, why I must be truly deluded.

‘Are you alright’, came Mr. Smith the local butcher

‘Yes, I’m quite fine. Just admiring this beautiful piece of mechanical splendor’.

‘She’s a beaut isn’t she.’

‘Sure is’.

‘My son got it for me last week, reckoned I needed a new one……..he’s a good boy. He’s a lawyer, just finished. Anyway must be off, you take care now.’                                                                                                                                                                                    

‘What makes you think I won’t.’

‘No reason……..ciao.’          

‘Ciao.’