Glass Can Shatter

The girl is walking down the hall. A little taller for her age compared to her friends, only twelve years old. Her dark red hair a mess, freckles splashed against her cheeks, hazel eyes darting up and down the hall. She tries to keep her eyes on the floor, the hall is dark, she has no direction as it is.

Clumsy, running into the wall every now and again, glasses drooping down her nose the longer she looks down. Each time they do, she will push them up quickly. Her hands slip into the pocket of her grey hooded sweatshirt. Her breath is trying to stay under control, but she feels panicked. So lost and wanting out of this hall.

She wonders if her body has just melded in to the shadow, maybe she would disappear as well if the lights turned on.

A door here, a door there. Why are they closed? Afraid to open them, she walks a little faster. Almost passes a door, her body flings slightly as she forces her feet to stop and moves back, one, two, three doors.

Touch the door knob...it's warm. Comfort...love? It's the first one like this she has seen.

Twist the knob and open the door, close eyes against the light, launches herself in to the room. She shuts the door behind her and leans against it. A fire ablaze in the shadows. She smiles.

Drops to her knees. She touches the flames. She doesn't know what they are. Why. It doesn't matter. She lays in the warm flames and closes her eyes. They are warm, they are comforting.

Her eyes open, she is not covered in flames. She is wrapped in a blanket. She is alone. She slowly begins to whimper, to cry. Sitting in a bed alone, in an empty room. Only her and the bed. She wipes her eyes, red and puffy.

She walks to the door of the room.

Turns the knob, pushes the door open slowly.

She stares at the other woman in the room. A bit taller, bigger breasts, shorter hair, different color hair, new clothes.

The woman stares at the younger, curiously, nervously, in wonderment. She steps forward, placing a hand on a thick glass window separating them. As if watching an exhibit at the museum.

The younger sobs and speaks to the older, steps toward the glass, a hand out stretched in desperation...the glass begins to shake...violently, viciously.
"Why...why did you forget me? How could you forget yourself?"




Awake in a sweat.

I was panting as I stared at the ceiling of my new room, my heart was pounding. The fifth new room in 3 years. The fifth move, the fifth new start. The fifth change in my life. The fifth door I have had to walk through.

I rolled to my side...a hand sitting over my heart, clenching in to a fist.

I whisper in a dry morning voice, tears forming in my eyes as I close them tightly.

"Who am I?"