I saw in the distance with my eyes wide open in shock a mirror no, rather a window depicting my scars and I couldn’t run..... Now this short story isn’t about death, it’s about my depression because what I saw out in the distance was a window with a transparent reflection in which an abundant of photos made a life scale of me, photos that revealed the many abhorrent events that I have buried, alive, deep inside the void of my brain; a darkroom I called, “GuardianAngel.” A collection of my regrets and horrible choices and sexual stuff being done to me and the many times that my so called “friends” have used me... my reality. A reality that I choose to ignore and one that  -even though I hate to admit it- molded me and my perception of reality.

For some reason I have been visiting it more and more every night in my dreams. And I despise it because every time I see the papier-mâché-like thing in front of me another photo gets added. And I observe in malice as it asks me, “Why are you like this?” And I never answer, but even so, it continues, “What’s the point, in your existence that is, Adrian?” Another photo is glued into its mouth less face, it’s eyeballs empty and it’s nose nonexistent. “You regretted something again, Why?” No answer, I simple eyeball him unable to move and choose not to speak. “You’re in denial, you know that?” It’s always the same fucken questions and every question echoes and every echo lasts 10 seconds and for every 7 seconds he asks another question that overlaps his last one and each time that a question overlaps it’s voice gets louder and the louder it’s gets the more it lacerates my already disfigured and corrupted perception of reality; it knows that... it sees my suffering yet it keeps questioning to the point where another photo affixes onto the affliction. 

Another photo  glues onto its body. “Have you ever wondered, what if?” It queried tilting its head to show curiosity, but it’s eye sockets said otherwise. “What if you asked her out while you had the chance instead of brushing her off for fear that you might disappoint her?” My eyes widened, it never asked that question, my eyebrows flew to the top of my head and my body relaxed out of surprise. It walked up to the wall and placed its photo covered left hand on the window wall. It confused me at first, but I noticed a picture, a photograph, of the only girl that saw me as a human being and that showed genuine interest to be by my side... the one that I brushed off for fear that I would let her down even though she knew that I had a rough life. The photograph emerged from his palm a crumpled mess, like it’s been in here for over a century, but it unwrinkled itself with a curl and bloomed like an orchid as it fully emerged.

Another photo, glued. My malice morphed into melancholy and the restraints (keeping me from running and breaking the wall) disappeared. I felt fatigued and friendless as I sluggishly dawdled towards the blooming picture. My eyes wide open slowly filling with tears as my feet slid, instead of rising for each step, across the soft floor. Both of my hands reached for the photo as it finished blooming and as soon as I detached it from my photo figure I was shown an abundance of my childhood with her and people like her. 

I saw and I felt and I heard. 

I saw her innocent smile and I saw how she used to follow me around the playground and I saw how she used to play with my hair during class and I saw the many times she hugged me before saying goodbye and I observed the last facial expression on the day I disappointed her. Her eyes wide open, her mouth was slightly hinged, and her body became tense. 

I felt her warm inviting smile and I felt the sharp yet beautiful stare that would impale my young and innocent heart and I felt her soft hands holding mine as she guided me whenever we would leave for lunch and I felt her tight yet gentle hug along with her smile impaling my cheek as she would place her head on my shoulder and I suffered the searing disappointment in her, It felt like a boulder crushing only her tender heart.

I heard her angelic voice greeting me almost everyday and I heard the pattern of her foot steps change when she would walk towards me and I heard her wishes and her dreams and her hopes and her elegant thoughts and I listened to the last misshapen and deformed comment for me, about me...

“I believed in you, trusted you, I cared; I genuinely thought you did too...” and I listened to my response, observed my emotionless expression, the first photo was place onto the GuardianAngel, and I felt a deep gash, her eyes pierced my heart just like my actions pierced hers but it felt like nothing compared to her suffering.

“I’m sorry, but you brought this onto yourself, you know that.” 

I observed and suffered and listened and I lamented. I was brought back to the GuardianAngel on my knees, my head looking up at the photo person, streaks of water flowing down my face, and my whole body aching with pain, quivering with fear.

10 photos were glued onto his body. “You know what you are, right?” I could feel myself clenching my teeth trying so hard not to bawl. “You’re denial, Adrian, beautifully gullible and oblivious to me... well that’s what you want to believe” I felt the picture that I was gripping, disintegrate. I lowered my head slowly and witnessed her smile turn to ashes... I took quick gasps of air as it continued to talk. “You’re useless, Adrian, because you aren’t real...” it crouched and was face to face with me, “do you remember the first time you saw me?” It asked and I shook my head, yes.

“Do you remember what you told me?” I finally answered.

“I- I re-re-remember...” I stuttered, “I asked you, ‘Do you know why you’re here?’”

“I am your sins, regrets, basically anything that you found abhorrent,” he answered, “but that isn’t what i wanted...” it scratched the glass wall, “Do you remember what you told me?” He asked once more.

“You will embody my sins and in return I’ll be your GuardianAngel,” the sound of photos shuffling around the inside of its face petrified me because it soon turned to bones cracking, as if it was building a mouth. And it smiled, with its teeth being made up of fingers and bones.

“That’s right,” it said with an echo of my voice and my friends. “I am the real you and you are the GuardianAngel, you denying piece of shit,” it insulted, slowly pushing its hand through the glass wall. The glass wall shattered but the sharp pieces floated like an object in space. It grabbed my lower jaw and brought me closer to him, “your fake reality will end one day because you can’t function without me, if you could you wouldn’t be coming back just to revisit regrets and view ‘what if’s’...” it looked around the void of the room, “you’ve always taken a piece of me when you left, that’s why I never disappear, because you don’t forget, you just act like you do,” 

3 photos glued themselves onto his back and his eye sockets started to move “that’s why photos of rue keep on appearing,” it seemed to frown and grabbed my arms, “if you’re going to deny my existence and your actions then you shouldn’t be my guardian angel,” 

2 photos were glued onto my back, “I’m just gonna make us one again, just like the good old days, Adrian,” that was the final thing it declared before the photos that were on it started to slither onto me. I struggled but to no avail, I started to scream and tug for I was starting to experience my denials once again. I started to listen and observe and suffer and regret and then I awoke...