It was easier to stand and stare at the door instead of the mirror. Mirrors were ugly things that made you think about how you looked, how you thought, and how you were. They never coated the facts sugar, and they never told you attractive lies. Doors, however, would entertain that notion. They were flat boards of wood that allowed the onlooker to look upon something that wasn't themselves. Something much easier to digest. At the same time, they offered an opening. They invited the gazer to move on, unlike a mirror which kept you perpetually staring into your own eyes.
In a short fit of rebellion against the dramatic stillness that she had allowed to settle upon herself, Charlotte swung the door open in a swift motion. It hit something with a crunch, and stopped there. Her eyes widened as she slipped around the doorway, and came upon the sight of her father holding his nose and cussing under his breath.
"Charlotte-why--" He cut himself off, and shook his head. He stepped past her into the bathroom to get a towel. Nathan took his glasses off, and set them down on the sink. "Thank god those aren't broken." he muttered. "Luckily my nose provided a fantastic barrier." He cringed at the small dribbles of blood that tickled his lip, and pressed his lips together. Squeezing his eyes closed, he tried not to think about the blood. He couldn't taste it, and he didn't want to see it, but it was there. It made him feel like someone was kneading his stomach into knots.
"I'm sorry." Charlotte slouched, and rubbed the back of neck. She quietly tried to think of things to do that would help. Things that didn't involve staring at the small amount of blood that stained the towel Nathan held to his injured nose. The zoescope images played once more. Except the blood from those didn't trickle from his nose. She fixed her gaze on Nathan. The entirety of him was locked in her sight, and she didn't let go. She wanted to drink in the fact that only his nose was injured, and nothing more. Charlotte pursed her lips, oblivious to the fact that Nathan was shooting her an perplexed look.
Then it all tumbled out. "You're going to die. You're going to die, and you're going to get shot, and I'm going to be there when you do." Her eyes welled up with tears, and she lunged forward to huge her Dad. Her tears stained her white, button-down shirt as she buried her face into his shoulder. She wanted nothing more than to hide from the world, and cling on to her pillar of guidance. Unfortunately, that pillar was destined to crumble beneath her.
No one can experience true fear until they are sure that their lives will be made infinitely more miserable. They may not know when, or precisely how, but knowing that the event will occur is enough to break anyone. It's enough to shatter them into more pieces than the future itself is divided into. It's enough to make them part of the glassy mosaic of broken tiles. It's enough to make them disappear.
Nathan's face contorted with concern as he stepped back from Charlotte, and bent down slightly to get a better look at her face. He didn't have phenomenal people skills, and he didn't need them to come to the conclusion that she had seen something disturbing.