52. Wonderland Chapter 7

CAUTION: Mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts. Please read at your own discretion. This chapter is very heavy. Please do not read any further if this will impact your mental health.

Omen's POV

It was a trap. I shouldn't have walked right into the room, but Hes… she was the one who dragged me in.

I felt like I was pulled into another dream. However, this place was a mirror maze. I couldn't summon anything, not even my items, weapon, and my selves. I kept bumping into the mirrors when I tried to feel my way out, and I couldn't help but feel my reflections were a bit eerie. It was the first time I felt it, especially my reflections' eyes. From my corner, I could feel that they were staring at me.

It must have been my imagination, right?

I walked, and walked, and walked. Yet, this place was endless. I kept running into dead ends. The place was quiet, and I was accompanied by my reflections. It didn't help that I was getting scared of them. It was rare that I felt this fearful. I tried calming myself down, but the feeling only grew.

Eventually, I stopped and closed my eyes. I couldn't look anymore. It was too suffocating.

"Giving up, now?"

I opened to see the girl of my past occupying my reflection in the mirror. She had a mocking expression. Her eyes were anything but kind.

"What do you want?"

"Revenge."

"... Will that make you feel happy?"

The girl stopped at my question. She took a moment to think before grinning at me.

"What do you think?"

"It won't make you happy. I'm not happy with you like this. There must be a way, some way to work out of this..."

"There is no way." She interrupted my rambling. "I considered every possibility, but I could not get myself out. You don't understand. You don't know how much he hurt me, the words he so carelessly said. I want to return it back a thousandfold. I want him to hurt."

I could see that her eyes were hurting, the way they recalled back to some memory that I couldn't access, but she held them. We were the same person, yet we were so different. It was like she was trapped in the past while I did not know my past.

"Then, make me understand. I want to stand in your shoes, but the way you are now is scaring me."

The girl laughed. The mirror vibrated at the weight of her laughter and spread to the rest. It was as though the mirrors were all laughing. They were so jarring that I couldn't help but raise my hands to cover my ears.

"It's the first time that I am afraid of myself. What an achievement. Fine, you want to know this pain. Do you know what it is like to be liked?

Do you know what it is like to have the hope that maybe that one person can wait for you? Do you know what it is like to have it ripped away when you realize that perhaps he never once liked you? That he was playing with you? This whole time?

So, when he comes clean to you in the end about another girl he liked, you realize he was true to her.

Do you… know what all of that feels like?"

Without waiting for an answer, the girl suddenly raised her right hand and grabbed the back of my head to bring her forehead to mine. In that instant, I saw her memories. My memories.

At 13 years old, I noticed a boy hanging around me. I didn't want to think too deeply about it and ignored him. Maybe he was hanging around his buddies since my deskmate was his friend. But then, he reached out to me.

At 15 years old, I wanted to escape by switching classes. I didn't like to acknowledge the feelings I had for him. I just wanted to focus on studying. It just so happened that we were choosing subjects, so I thought our paths would not cross. Yet, fate has other methods. We ended up in the same class and as roommates. He was too shy to talk to me… but how come he could speak easily while texting each other? Rumors about us and my mother's warning about dating made me hesitant to get close to him, so I could only watch while other girls talked to him. They were about to tend to his wounds when he got injured, but I wanted to do that for him.

… It was an accident. I thought he meant it, so I answered back. But I was afraid to date, so I rejected it when he let me decide. I had hoped that when we are older, we can do that. He still seemed to like me since he kept dropping those jokes. I wonder if we get to date when we graduate?

He's… He's not reaching out to me anymore. These days, we seem to have a hard time talking. He said he didn't have anything to ask me anymore. Am I… getting boring? The other day, he said I wasn't cute when I talked about how I got such compliments. It hurt me a little, but I still smiled through it. I still couldn't help but think, what does he see me as if he doesn't find me cute?

At the end of the year, when I was 16 years old, I learned he had a crush on another girl at the end of the year. He personally told me. It was one of the class's popular pretty girls. It was obvious. She was tall, slim, and pretty. Who wouldn't like her? We were just regular friends, but why? Why does my heart hurt so much? Why does it bother me so much?

I'm not tall or slim. I'm not that pretty. I…I don't know what I can see myself as. What am I? Am I even… a girl? I'm a girl, but I… I don't have the confidence to say that. I'm afraid. I'm scared. I… I hate how I look now. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. When I think of myself, I can't think of anything.

I'm… nothing.

"Do you see now? How has love affected me so?"

Why… why am I alive? Why am I still breathing? I shouldn't exist. I shouldn't be here taking up space. No, no, I shouldn't be thinking like this. I'm ungrateful for thinking of dying. I have my friends, my family. What are they going to do when I suddenly die? I can't die. Don't die.

Just die.

Die already.

"It hurts, right? It hurts so much."

Is this my punishment? To live? Every day feels like torture. Every moment feels like I'm nothing. I'm stepping on glass shards. When night comes, the tears won't stop. How do I stop this pain? Stop it. Make it stop. MAKE IT STOP! Please…

But I can't die. My family and friends will be sad. I feel so trapped! Anyone! Please… please help me.

"Do you understand?" The girl's face was right before me as I slowly got out of the fog of memories. It was suffocating. "Can you feel it? The feeling that you should just wipe your entire existence off?"

"How…" My tears fell. "How did you survive all of this?"

For the first time since she appeared in the mirror, she smiled. It was a genuine smile, not those self-deprecating or fake ones. Yet, it carried so much pain that it showed in her eyes.

"I didn't. And that's why you and I are like this. Separated, torn apart, destroyed from just trying to live with these memories. I want to kill him, and he's right beside you all along."

What?

"Doing the same things again. Such trash really shouldn't live."

"Stop, you mean… it's Mike? Micheal? Micheal Johnathan Evans?" She nodded in agreement. "I had a suspicion, but this… can't be."

"You find it laughable too, right? It was like fate was laughing at us all over again. But this time, I can kill him. I killed off the wrong person years ago. This time, I won't make the same mistake. Don't stop me, Omen."

I wanted to stop her, but those memories held me back. So much regret, pain, anger, and sadness. Until it culminated in death, into Omen. However, is this what I wanted?

I… I don't know. I'm not sure. It just hurt too much.

"Omen, don't listen to her," I remembered Shiro's voice back in the forest when I woke up in Wonderland. She took me away from the others while they were packing up. "Whatever she says, never listen to her. There's a reason why we split up and became like this."

What was the reason that my self has split into so many with the help of magic?

I never got to ask Shiro. Yet, the answer was right at the tip of my tongue. Why did "I" kill the wrong person? Why did "I" kill myself off if my goal should have been Mike?

At my conclusion, my heart grew sure, and my left hand reached out to grab my old self. She was shocked that I was able to reach into the mirror. I didn't know how I was doing it, but it wasn't necessary. I had to stop myself.

"Don't. Don't kill Mike." Anger contorted her tear-stricken face. "That was never your goal."

"What do you mean? He's the root of ALL my pain! My sufferings! My unhappiness! You! You should understand me, us. Why are you stopping me!?"

"The reason behind your suffering wasn't because of him. It was because you were unreconciled. Have you ever tried asking him out? No. Because you were afraid of our mother and our rumors. You were the coward who kept missing out on chances, so it was too late when it came to an end."

"No… no, no! It was not like that." Panic gripped her as the truth came out from me. The realization hit her, and the flood works started.

"It is, and you drove yourself insane from it. You knew you could have taken your chances. Even if you rejected him, you could have had other chances to salvage, but you didn't. You could have your dates, little kisses, hugs, and little pockets of happiness."

The girl who was once filled with anger became very small. She turned back to her 16-year-old self, who regretted not taking her chances, never liking a guy, and regretted doing nothing.

"But you are not wrong. You wanted to wait until you could date, but you didn't tell him."

"Stop."

"... You just thought he would be there all along, so when the illusion is shattered, you broke your own heart and mind."

"Stop it."

"You couldn't let it go. You kept torturing yourself again and again with the past."

"STOP!"

I kneeled down next to her. The me from the past had grown tired and was covering up her ears. I took her hands into mine while her eyes locked with my eyes.

"Maybe it's time to let go. It was no one's fault. There are no "what if"s for the past because the choice has been made. It's okay. I… won't say that you are pathetic or should have done better. You did your best. There's nothing more you could do. It is what it is.

She sobbed and hugged me. I tried to muster a smile, but I couldn't keep it. I wasn't able to stop my tears from flowing out too.

"It's really time to move on. For real."

"How about you?" My old self looked up at me. She rubbed her puffy eyes and pulled my hand. "How are you going to deal with Mike?"

"Well…"