Trapped

MIRROR

Neal emerged from the bathroom; water dripped from his dark, sleek hair, tracing a path down his broad, muscular frame, and Neal’s feet left a trail of footprints as he walked to the dressing table. He screeched out a chair for himself. As he sat, a waft of minted bar soap mingled with a lotion vaseline engulfed him with softness.

Neal picked up a folded, clean towel on the table. Watching his reflection and the curtains billowing behind him in the mirror, he began to dry his hair, humming to himself.

Done with his task, he tossed the towel on his table and pulled himself to his feet. With feline grace, Neal padded across the room to the bed: a cream four-poster bed in the middle of the painted chocolate room with cream curtains.

Neal climbed up the bed; still on his knees and palms like a panther, he stared at his wife’s delicate round face. She lay nestled beneath the covers, her features softened by sleep. Neal’s heart swelled with affection as he took in the sight of her; a small smile tugged at his lips.

She must be tired.

Neal thought, noting her unusually early bedtime.

He sank into the soft bed and slipped under the blanket. Laying on his back, Neal switched off the light, encompassing the room in utter darkness. And as he drifted to sleep, the soft sound of his wife’s gentle snoring filled the air.

“Hey!”

Neal heard his voice echo back into his ears that he needed to cover his ears with his hands as he groaned.

Standing in the middle of an unknown dark room where he could hardly see himself, Neal turned around, brows furrowed.

“Where am I?” He muttered to himself and halted as his eyes fell on a mirror that seemed to stand in the air. Neal could hardly tell if the mirror was attached to anything.

Warily, with curiosity urging him forward, Neal approached the mirror. He stood before it, squinting as he wondered and feared what the mirror was all about. His curiosity tugged at his sleeves, and Neal cautiously raised one of his hands, stretching it to touch the mirror. As the tip of his fingers touched the face of the mirror, like a magnetic force, the mirror pulled him in. No traces of Neal left.

“Hey!!”

Neal shouted, finding himself in a vast empty land with white loamy ground and fir trees sprinkled here and there. There seemed to be no sign of being; the land looked barren and abandoned.

Turning around, Neal searched his surroundings in confusion. Once, he was in a dark room, and now, he was standing in the middle of an empty, vast, barren land with dark clouds sailing across the sky.

“Hey!” He screamed, desperation in his voice, and his heart began to drum in his ears when he got no reply.

“Is somebody here?!” Cupping his hands at both sides of his mouth, he shouted, “Anyone!”

Suddenly, he heard a painful groan. Startled, Neal turned around immediately. His eyes widened in shock when he saw the brown hair lady crawling on the ground in agony.

“Darcy!”

Neal ran to his wife, gathering her in his arms.

Her damp nightgown clung to her fair skin; her body was muddy, and her hair dripped down her back. Her hands, covering her wounded and bloody stomach, were soaked in blood. A painful cry escaped her quivering lips while her pearly, teary eyes looked up at Neal.

“Neal_ _ _,” she groaned, tears trickling down her chin. “It’s you,” she whispered. “It’s you, my love,” Darcy cried.

With his trembling hands, Neal placed his hands over hers, the rim of his eyes red with tears.

“How come?” His voice broke into tears, his hands covering her bleeding stomach. “Help!” He yelled. “Somebody help!” He cried.

A yap came from above--it was a bird called Black Vulture approaching. It flipped its wings, casting its shadow on the ground. Its malicious yapping sound reverberated, and its striking red eyes fixed on the prey below.

As the vicious yapping sound came near, Neal looked up, trying to discern the source of the vicious sound. And just like an eagle snatched a chick, the Black vulture snatched Darcy from Neal.

“No!” Neal sprang up, running, jumping, and stretching up his hands like a hot-air balloon would be given to him to go after it.

“No! Darcy!”

The Black vulture emitted a resonating yapping as it glanced at Neal and flew off into the distance, Darcy’s body dangling from its talons.

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