by Liam McGinley
Creak. Tap. Creak. Tap. Those were the only sounds ringing in Qomir’s ears as he laid in bed. Creak. Tap. Creak. Tap. It never stopped. Once a mind full of jagged thoughts and whispers, this was new for Qomir. The silence. Oh! The silence.
In moments like this, Qomir should be glad there was silence. However, this feeling and lack of sound confused him. It terrified him. He could hear sounds he never noticed before. Were these sounds good to hear? He couldn’t tell. It’s been so long since he heard them.
Qomir closed his eyes, thoughts racing like a jet ski. Creak. Tap. Creak. Tap. It still didn’t stop. It never stopped. Why wouldn’t it stop?
Tick. Another sound. Another annoying sound. Creak. Tap. Tick. Creak. Tap. Tick. Make it stop. Make it all stop.
Qomir held his head and covered his ears. The sounds continued. Creak. Tap. Tick. Creak. Tap. Tick. He wanted it to stop. The memories. Oh, the terrible memories! Make them go away!
Qomir groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Make it stop,” he begged, tears welling in his eyes. “Dear Gods, make it stop! Make it stop!”
He jerked up in his bed, gripping the blanket and huffing. His chest tightened and his jaw clenched. He shook, frantically looking around the room. He stiffened as he looked at the corner with a mirror. A mirror left uncovered.
Qomir hated mirrors. He hated them. Mirrors were evil. They were the living embodiment of all that Qomir hated. All that he wanted to forget. All that he wanted to keep locked away in his past. However, it seemed as if it was speaking to him.
Creak.
Qomir teared up, hands shaking. “Please,” he mumbled.
Tap.
Qomir shook his head, sliding back on his bed and hitting the wall. “Please,” he begged.
Tick.
“Make it stop,” Qomir mumbled, gripping his blond locks of hair. “Make it stop,” he begged, desperation seeping through his voice.
The tarp moved, revealing a corner. Qomir huffed as he ran to the mirror to cover it back up. His hand shook and warm tears rolled down his face. He cried and cried as waves of guilt, remorse, and pain washed over him. Qomir sobbed, baring his teeth.
Creak.
It won’t stop.
Tap.
For the last time, make it stop!
Tick.
Qomir ripped the tarp off the mirror. “I said make it stop,” he screamed, gripping the tarp. He shook and his breathing remained unsteady. No more noise.
Qomir huffed. He slowly lifted his head and glanced at his reflection. He gasped as another tear rolled down his face. The reflection didn’t even feel like his reflection. All he saw was the reflection of a man he didn’t recognize. A man he despised. A man that caused so much pain and turmoil to everyone around him.
Qomir shook before putting his hand on the mirror glass. He started to cry once more. Disgust washed over him and his lip quivered.
It’s you, he thought as he gazed at the mirror. Despite everything, it’s still you.
Qomir inhaled sharply as another tear formed on his face. He closed his eyes, lightly punched the mirror with his fist, and laid his head on the glass. He sobbed.
“Everything I’ve done,” he began. “Everything I said and all my actions will never be forgotten. They’re the parts of me that can never be reversed.”
He opened his eyes and glanced at his wrist. There was a black image of a scorpion injecting its stinger into a snake that was coiled around its body. It looked as if it was a branding of some kind. Not a scar. Not a tattoo. Not a beauty mark. A branding. A branding Qomir despised as well.
“The mirror never forgets,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath as he stared. “He never forgets. This is my pain to bear. A pain I can’t subside and forget. A pain that will haunt me for the rest of my life.”
Qomir released the tarp and covered the mirror once more before heading back to bed and sitting down. Again, a sound.
Creak.
The neverending creak.
