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Your breathing is harsh as you look forward to them, locking eyes with the singular person who ruined your life. The one who killed your friends. The one who murdered your family. You call them Monster because of that day. Trauma flashes in your eyes, creeping into your vision around the figure as if you’re being taken back to that day. The heat is beating harshly against your face. The faint cries for help. Your eyes widen as you stare at the scene like It's truly in front of you.
It’s the average Halloween night. Candy, laughter, terrifying little kids whenever they turn the wrong corner. Skipping home with your friends was going to be the end of your night since you traded all your candy at the neighborhood playground. Jennie took all the butterfingers before you could blink, so you are actively avoiding her. Rebecca is whining over how badly her feet hurt, meanwhile Jacob is offering to carry her every five seconds like some sort of lovesick puppy dog desperate for affection. It's been a good night.
The second you and the people closest to you stepped inside the warm and normally calm home, your body gets tense. Your parents shout and scream about something unknown, the noise stabs into your ears like sharp toothpicks. It’s directed entirely at you for whatever reason. The faint scent of scotch was infused in their breath as it hit your nose. They had always been drunkards. Your blood started to practically boil underneath your skin as if it would burn through. The look on your mother’s face as she screamed till her vocals were too hoarse to make out any word she tried to articulate. The way your friends start to whisper and flinch when your father takes a drunken step towards them. Your mother’s voice starts to get squeaky. Your fists clench. The fury of humiliation and fear is plenty for Monster to lose their control. They appear more clearly in your vision as the grotesque burns that slash across the right side of Monster’s face make the calamity seem as if it was happening at this very moment. The burning of flesh stains the air as you get everyone out as fast as possible. The screaming echoing as if bouncing off the walls of your skull. Finding people completely charred and surrounded by the violent white tips of the flames. The vile smoke in the air – that still affects you to this day – fills up your slowly burning lungs.
As quickly as the flashback had weaseled its way into your sight, it disappeared like a whisper in the wind. Your eyes adjust in their slightly widened state, seeing Monster staring at you with the same expression. Their eyes are glowing with something you can't pinpoint. It looks like rage. Or could it possibly be… remorse? Mourning? That’s the look that always makes you pissed. How dare they feel that overwhelming pain when they were the ones who created it. When they were the one who exploded that night. When they ruined your life. Your skin heats and some sort of overwhelming infuriation fills you to the point of your cheeks' heating. Their cheeks get flushed too. Tears start pouring. They start to sob too. A harsh gasp-like scream escapes from your smoked lungs as your shaky fist raises, lunging forward towards them as they look like they are about to retaliate. Smashing your fist right where their burnt eye is, a loud shatter rattles throughout the entire room as the smell of blood cakes in the air. Your fist stays against the shattered surface as your breathing slows down before defaulting into soft sobs that are barely audiable. Tears are still dripping down your wet cheeks. The morbid sight of warm blood dripping down your hand and how the pain stings just enough to let your brain snap back to reality. Raising your hand to see the damage, your breath hitches harshly because of the sharp glass in your knuckles. Your eyes shift between your hand and the broken surface.
You should really stop looking in those damn mirrors.