Chapter 24

A hundred years ago...

Undoubtedly there was no more beautiful girl than Angeline Min. Not even her friends who visited her every afternoon, in their silk dresses —pink and light blue— making a rampage around that angel with golden hair and glacier blue eyes who made herself call Angeline.

«Just so lovely», the infant in the white dress thought from the mirror in the bathroom, sighing every time Angeline laughed at one of the stupid jokes her stupid friends made.

«Pathetic», the reflection thought suspiciously as she scanned those silly girls. Angeline, on the other hand, had a wonderful brain, fit for a princess, or as she called her, a queen. The queen of hers. Because when her friends said goodbye to her and each one went to their respective homes, Angeline would spend hours in the bathroom, talking animatedly with her imaginary friend in the white frame mirror, playing to turn the place into a kingdom and she taking the role of the owner of those lands. Those were the best hours for the child in the white dress and her lonely life inside that beautiful silver glass jail.

Angeline was her only friend, her only company. She was so bored all day when her angel was attending classes, but the wait for her was worth it. Every second waited in that marble-walled bathroom was finally rewarded when a girl with blond hair came home and greeted her mother, then ran up the stairs and headed to the only place where she felt safe and protected: her bathing.

Being next to —or rather, near— Angeline was the most beautiful blessing anyone had ever bestowed upon her. She was always happy with her girl, with her angel. She would never stop loving her, even if a thousand years passed, she —the reflection— would follow beside her, while she sang a song to go to bed or read a story to Angeline.

Or that's what she thought until that night.

She could never forgive the man who hurt her princess. To that monster who desecrated the little body of the girl she loved. She couldn't do anything to help her when she saw her shed tears from her blue eyes, asking for mercy without opening her lips, speaking through her gaze.

There was a time when she no longer responded to her calls. She just was not responding. She was not moving.

—Angeline, tell me something... Angeline, tell me something!

She felt so helpless seeing the streaks of blood on the hardwood floor that it looked like little rivers gushing out of Angeline. No. She didn't want to believe it, didn't even want to examine the crime scene for another second. She had lost everything. To her friend, to her angel. Angeline was dead.

If only she could get out of that white frame... but sadly, she couldn't. She must be inside that mirror that, no matter how beautiful it was, was a prison for that girl in the white dress. Leaving that place was not allowed, according to the rules. The rules and a damn. He murdered her little girl and she couldn't protect Angeline from the hands of that bastard. Where were the parents when someone needed them? There were no traces of them anywhere.

«It was my fault», thought the reflection. She shouldn't have allowed Angeline to leave the bathroom after taking a shower, much less when she heard noises coming from the stairs. She assumed that they were the parents of Angeline, but how could it be? If they left the house half an hour ago to go to the cinema.

It may have been Angeline's babysitter, but she had overheard the mother's cell phone call in the morning. Her babysitter was sick, so she would send her colleague to take care of Angeline. She must have been alerted when they heard noises at the door. Someone was knocking. And that someone was being too insistent.

—Angeline, don't open it. Put the insurance. —She warned.

But Angeline was as stubborn as she was friendly. Still wearing the robe she turned the knob and they discovered the usual babysitter's buddy. A tall young man —for both of them, since they were the same height— with dark hair. «Terrifying», thought the reflection as the boy's gaze lit up as he admired Angeline's small body being covered only by a tiny robe. A bad feeling began to rise within her. But it was too late to do anything about it.

She needed to get out of that mirror. It was the only way she could visit Angeline, even if she was alone in front of a tombstone. It didn't matter what she had to do, whether she should be rude and cruel or if she should murder someone, whatever, she would gladly do it. Of that, there was no doubt. Angeline, her little girl, will always be inside her mind. Either way, she —and sadly— had found her target a long time after the incident, a pitiful little girl the same age as Angeline.

The reflection needed to be close to Angeline. She needed it so bad. She needed her voice, her playful look, and her harmonious laugh. She needed her. And she would die if she didn't have it again.

[...]

❝Three. Two. One. Ready or not, here I come, Elena. I can become your favorite monster.❞