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i'm not upset
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"Isabel! Wait, no, you've got it all wrong! Come back!" He yelled.

Adrenaline pumped through her body as she ran. Another right, a left, another dead end, go back, turn right.

"Isabel! Please, just let me explain!"

The voice sounded further away now. She stopped and looked back. There was no one behind her and no sounds of pursuit trying to catch up with her.

Can I trust him? Let him explain. What would he say to me? “Sorry for screaming at you. I was trying to save the knife as a surprise? Surprise!

Underneath her sneakers she heard the crunching sound of little shards of glass.

She put her hand up to a mirror and leaned on it while catching her breath. Isabel just needed time to think.

I always thought he was okay. I mean, I’ve heard some girls talk about how he was a crappy boyfriend and a jerk when it came to relationships, but that sort of stuff never mattered to me. Maybe I should stop thinking like that. If I assume everyone’s a decent person just because they were normal in real life- but this isn’t real life! I’m in a mirror maze with a trumpet being chased by a guy with a sword! That’s about as far from real life as it gets.

Down the hall she saw something shine on the floor. As stealthily as she could, she walked to the spot and saw the jagged shards of a broken mirror littering the floor

I don’t think I can make it out of here just with a trumpet. I might run into Roland again; maybe someone worse.

She dropped to the floor and unzipped the bag. She found the flashlight and started looking around inside. After a moment she pulled out the first aid kit and ripped it open. She pulled out a roll of gauze and smiled. Hastily she replaced the box, zipped up the bag and placed the gauze at her feet. She sifted through the broken pieces on the floor, trying to find a nice, sharp piece. Isabel stopped her search when she found a jagged shard of mirror about a foot and a half long. Not wanting to be caught kneeling on the floor, she took the roll of gauze and began wrapping it around the piece of glass and the horn of the trumped as fast she her fingers would move. In her rush to unwind the gauze she carelessly moved her hand too close and cut herself just below her thumb.


Isabel bit her tongue. He might be able to find her now. She finished her work and stood up with her newly improvised trumpet-knife. The glass extended just about five inches past the horn of the trumpet.

Better than nothing.

Isabel began walking. She took a left and found herself looking down a hall. Immediately in front of her were two people, but she couldn’t really recognize them in the dark. Past them was…..Roland again!

She stared open mouthed at him.

Edited by Ruggahissy, Aug 11 2010, 12:37 AM.
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Mirror Mirror · Hall of Mirrors