creative writing class, had to write about a mirror...
This is the mirror that he used to first show his sister her face after the accident.
^^ had to be first sentence
This is the mirror that he used to first show his sister her face after the accident. The harsh lighting of the world danced off the mirror onto her face; the mirror no longer cradled her, but some other girl. A sickly, forlorn creature, a doll that had been casually tossed onto the hot stove and left . the dark circles that surrounded her usually twinkling eyes, were of smutty tear-driven mascara, on top of swollen puss-filled bruises. The sparkle was obscured by her clumped eyelashes, stuck together by the remnants of sleep. Dryed blood stained the corner of her mouth and he tried desperately to think of a joke, a vampire joke maybe, anything to make her smile. He could see how her bottom lip trembled, but her eyes would spare her no tears.
A whimper escaped from her bloody mouth, a hand pushed the twisted image away. She struggled to turn away from him but the neckbrace held her, constrained her.
A breath, that deep intake that he took, he push towards revealing the truth to her. A wasted breath.
Another breath, sharper this time, more determined, he must tell her. It was his fault. It was all his fault. He had always told her what to do but always looked out for her. When someone had kicked her in th playground he had run up and shrieked "You can't kick my sister, only I can kick my sister!". He smiled at the memory. But now, now it was up to him. Up to him to make it better, but how? His thoughts whirred around him. Somehow, he couldn't help but think his casual foot scuffing, mumble something about being sorry and half-hearted lean would do it this time.
He held her hand and looked at his feet, dangling off the edge of the bed. The mirror rested by the end, a crack across the middle. A glance upwards confirmed this wasn't all just some nightmare, a glance upward and he felt his stomach churn, his heart break... her heart stop.