Light & Dark by Aurora , Blue Fire.

Chapter 2 

The 2-sided Mirror.

How can he flee this life without revealing his false identity? He does it to be accepted for who he is, or perhaps for those who refuse to see. This denial is brought about by the guilt and moral shame that haunts the illusions of empty tombs. Dead kings are an entourage crammed with swords. It is the weight he carries on his shoulders, like the shape of a cross that punishes him according to his mistakes.  He leads a normal, if reckless, life, showing a new assumption of his perspective.   In his well-behaved environment, the reflection of the water turns him, branding him a phenomenon. The whole society degrades and denigrates him, calling him an outcast. He does it because of how he thinks everyone says it's him.  He was like a circus monkey, lacking confidence in himself; he lost faith in others. He took with him the time-honored truth of the prudent impulse of lies and the solitude that inhabited his mind, desolate and isolated. He stuttered as he drove into the crack of a cracked cliff.  He had few friends, whose trusts were easily broken. But, being misfits, he was confident that it would not hurt him. He earned their affection and respect, even though they did not reveal the future or the point to which he would take them, whether it was forward or into the past of the impossible.  With what has already happened, he raised his sharp gaze between the supernatural, earthly and astral existence of his parallel world and the harsh reality he was treading on. He assumed his bold emblem of half-truth, using vague words of free will, to confront the volatile discard of his old father.  This attitude made him immune. He spoke directly and openly, having to remember the exact moment. This was the appropriate means in the face of unforeseen circumstances. The old bitter conjecture did not apply to the equation without any modification. This truth crosses the landscape and borders, making sanity break, momentarily, into a 'yes'.   What to say? What do you think? He held his breath. He suppressed the wild waves inside, trying to avoid colliding with the cold current. Modulating their emotions was made possible by listing an inadequate formula, one that fits outside of social databases and with no return. Society watched him with stiff eyes. He muttered to himself, breaking the debt, without having to raise his voice. This gesture appeased his harsh voice. He had to keep the conversation secret and not be inflamed by anger that, in an upright way, reflected his temperate temper.    Between sweat and tears, he looked up at the sky. Its uncluttered coloration gave it life. Despite this lively moment, the bitterness of stainless steel was felt.  A rudimentary and evil presence crossed his world, secretly erasing his smile. He kept his embarrassing sanity afloat as he returned home.  He touched the ground with his stiff, icy fingers, facing the two-sided mirror. Breaking the harmony in perfect calm was an embarrassing moment. At that moment, shame stained the wings of the butterflies, breaking the curve of their beauty. Did he, perhaps, master the forbidden language? He had to listen to the same sermon from an old friend. It sounded so plastic, so superficial, but still durable. His interior was full of rage, but also ready to shout the absolute truth. His spiral of autonomous reasoning was an echo. He shouted at the top of his lungs plaintive truths, as clear as the disgusting lies that tortured him for years. Calamity loomed, rumbling in his eardrums as it bounced off his head like a constant echo. A buzzing bullet flashed through his brain, bouncing between his temples. Suddenly, he realized that it had all been a hoax.    He had nothing more to say about the oblivion of the extraordinary, but to seek the modern conjecture that would decipher the anguish of his heart. The heart was suppressed by the same discontent: the strange, oppressed, demonic power that had long slept in it.

He suppressed all recollection, assuming that nothing was pure or partial. For this reason, he even pretended to be who he was not.   He fit the wrong profile in that narrow reality, about colliding with the lie that was reflected in the clear water of his thoughts. The deception squeezed the last drop out of a prudent lie; He was in a cold sweat, driven by fear of the truth. However, the darkness was reflected from a clear sky. In the same way, a ghostly light came to cover the sparkle that had seized him on an eternal journey. That light came into effect on him during the darkest night.   He blamed lying on truth, burying the impulse of ignorance. He didn't want his loose feelings to speak through his devoted heart; however, he could not avoid the stab of the truth. He was exposed in an empty circle, with his back bare to his sincere words. However, he fell bleeding to the ground. A blinding and overwhelming feeling left him alone, unable to call for help. He stared into the nothingness of a shallow ceiling, unable to scream, and curled up in a fetal position.