The Mirror

[zegidroph]

((Well I'll get this section started off with a story I wrote in personal writing. Comment on what you think the metaphor is, I've gotten so many that it's interesting to hear anyone's opinion. Hope you enjoy.
P.S. As a twist, it's written in 2nd person))

The Mirror

Your eyes peer open to the light of the moon that is shining on the stone floor. You try to rub out the stinging that has been in them since you arrived. To no avail you slam your fists to the floor and retaliate to the sharp pain you feel surging up your arms. You feel the slime that is coating your fingers that leaked from your previous wounds.
Your ears perk up.
*Clop, clop, clop*
Instinctively, your eyes find the darkest corner, and your body follows suit. You cover your head while never removing your eyes from the door of your cell.
*Clop, clop*
Rustling of keys and clicking noise proceed until the lock is bested and the mighty door swings open.
A figure walks through, filling the doorway entirely, blocking your only light. It sniffs the air and tilts its head toward you.
"Come. Now."
Your body argues with your mind. Your body wins. You can't move.
"COME! NOW!"
Fear overcomes them both this time. You jolt up and march toward the being.
"Follow."
As you come he lights a torch. The new light startles your eyes, making every attribute of every feature more vivid than what your mind had come to know. You see down the hall from where the beast came. It stretches on into a familiar darkness that is never reached as you start behind him.
You feel the bones of your feet painfully echo each time you step. Despite this you continue for fear of losing the rare sight of light in the guards hand. Your calf muscles are starting to give with each step, each one feeling more like your lifting the earth rather than walking in it. Finally, you stop and hear the rustling of keys and a clicking noise.

[zegidroph]

"In."
Your body obeys without consulting you and enters the new room. Your eyes feast upon the light coming from a fireplace and the many candles spread thoughout the room. Your feet know warmth once again when the softness of a rug greets them. The one thing your eyes bring to your attention is a mirror in the center of the opposite wall.
"Look, and meet him."
You can't.
"Afraid are you?"
Your suprised at his new vocabulary.
"Well, prisoners don't often obey as well to intellectual speaking."
You understand.
"Now go meet him, you have nothing to be afraid of. Yet"
He leaves the room, and with a rustling of keys and a clicking moise, you're locked in.
Taking each step slowly, you confront the mirror. As your reflection enters your eyes, a rasp voice enters your head.
"Finally!"
You cover your mouth. That couldn't have happened. You lower your shaking hand.
"What's wrong? Scaring yourself?"
It is your reflection that is speaking. How can this be?
"Wha-what are you?" you ask.
"What am I? What are you? There is your answer."
"You're not me. You can't be," you respond.
"Why not? We look the same, do we not?"
"We do, but that does not make us one in the same," you say.
"If you walk to the right, do I not follow?"
"You do, but you walk to your left," you say.
"But not as your side sees it."
"Only because the reflection lies for you," you say.
"Lies? Is it really lying? After all, it is still identical to what you do."
"It is the exact opposite!" A bead of sweat trickles down your face.
"But we are the same! When you move, I move. When you talk, I talk. When you breathe, I breathe."
"No! Whenever I act, you lie about doing the same! When I move, you lie! When I talk, you lie! When I breathe, you lie!" Tears start to form in your eyes from the fear and frustration.
"But why do you act if I must only do what you do? If I am the liar, should I not be trapped if you are still?"
Your mind is racing. You think that is your best option. You drop to the floor and hide your face. You can't speak. You can't let it talk again.
"Yes, I cannot speak now. But as long as you are there, I can still be heard," it sneers.
You glimpse at the mirror. Only you are seen.
"We might be the same, but I do not NEED you."
The reflection is not moving its lips, only smiling.
"How can you exist if I am not here to be reflected?" you ask smartly.
"I cannot, but you're not going anywhere."
It is right. Every time you have thought of leaving the mirror's sight, your mind has somehow rejected it. Your mind is going haywire. You start to shiver again. Panic is setting in. Your eyes instantly search the room. You notice that the floor outside of the rug you're on is brick. You pick at one of hem and find it loose.
"What are you up to?"
You start picking at the molding around the brick. Your fingernails are being grinded down, but it is working, so you keep at it. At last you pry it from the floor.
"What are you doing? Put that back!"
The brick feels enormous, as if the guard that brought you here was sitting in your hands. Spending all of your life in this last effort, you lob the brick at the mirror. With your last breath you whisper, "Begone."

[Raikain]

Hmm, I liked it. The meaning to it, well it's to hard to explain really, it's to many things and not. Although i do like it, to me it means something, although i just can't point out what

[IronPhoenix]

[shadow=purple,left,300][glow=purple,2,300]thats deep[/glow][/shadow]