I sprint through the dim hallways, the lights flickering around me as the world blurs around me. It feels like I’m dying; The air getting sucked from out my lungs, and my legs so tired. I race through the hallway, as dim and dreary as I could possibly imagine. The mirrors taunt me with their repetitiveness they line the walls, big ones, small ones, wide, tall. I’ve spent what seems like hours just looking at the mirrors. Except, when I look back, a corpse, eyes wide and skin colorless, and the face contorted into an eternal scream. The horrifyingly similar face stares back at me as if saying, “Why are you even trying?”

     Why am I even trying?

     Then, I see it. 

     A turn. Not a boarded-up door, a turn. A light of hope in this wretched fever dream. Away from it. I turn the corner, and there he is. He’s standing in a dull living room, right behind a couch and a TV. That is the only furniture. There are no doors, no other ways to exit other than the hallway I just entered from. For the first time in what feels like forever, I stop. He turns around to look at me. His eyes seemed tired, his chest heaving as if he was running as well. I hear no noises other than the sounds of our chests heaving. “Are.. are you real?” he asks, “yes.” and like a machine relaxing its gears, the tears start flowing automatically. He starts to step up to me, and I strain to feel the warmth he can provide. “I know.” he wraps his arms around me, like a mother comforting their hurt child. We both held onto each other so tight, like it was the only thing grounding us to this room. At that moment, it was.  All I could do was stand there in my tears, the gravity of the situation finally engulfing me like the ocean. I’ve been running, and running, for so long. It’s been chasing me for so long. I entered a hallway and the hallway led for an eternity before we entered this dull living room. “This may be the wrong time..” he looks down at me, loosening the hug just a bit so I can meet his eyes. “I’ve always loved you. Ever since I saw you, I thought you were the most gorgeous…Well… the most gorgeous human being I could ever meet on this planet.” it takes me a while to realize what he just said. He? Loves me? How? I turn away for a moment, my eyes meet a mirror. Except, this reflection was different,

     It was who I really am. 

     In the reflection, it shows him, his eyes a bright white color, so bright it seems like it’s glowing. His skin is bright and clear, with no sign of imperfections. And adorning his back,  the most bright, gorgeous, angel wings I have ever seen in my entire life. He looks even more gorgeous than ever. 

     I, however, was not. My body looked old and aged, sun spots tainting my shoulders and wrinkles on my arms. My head was the most terrifying of all. A dead pig’s head, the eyes glazed over and the color sucked out of them. On the lips, the pig wears crimson lipstick around its mouth.

     Lipstick on a pig.

     “Hey. don’t look in the mirrors. It’s how they find you faster.” I look back at him, and I don’t know what to say. I look at him. Our faces are inches apart. Am I dreaming?

     “I can hear you thinking. Calm down.” he laughs a little, and then he leans in. What do I do? All I can do is close my eyes as he leans in and kisses me. It’s the most incredible feeling I’ve ever felt before. Yet, in my deepest of thoughts, I can feel my heart twisting and my stomach dropping. Something isn’t right. After he pulls away, his eyes look tired again. 

     Almost dead.

     Before I can say anything, or process anything, he hugs me again. This time he hugs me even tighter, and I don’t know what to think. Instead, I follow what I want to believe and hug him back. We stay like this for a while.

     The silence is so loud.

     Then, he breathes in, I feel his skin become cold in my arms. So cold it hurts for him to hold me. I start to squirm under his grasp, but his arms grow longer and tighter. 

     “I always knew you’d die in my arms.”

     Then, I feel my fingers getting oddly stiff, I look in the mirror, and I see something different. I am the one with no imperfections and the white wings, I have the eyes and I am the angel. Instead, he has become pure ink. He transformed into this amorphous black figure, with no eyes, only long, slimy limbs.

     I don’t have time to fully render him before I notice my neck has frozen around his grasp. Then my jaw, then I can not speak or breathe because I have been taken over by the ice surrounding my skin. It’s cold, so so cold. I look back at him. I still see the inky figure. My eyes are so close to being frozen over completely when he says the last words I hear.

     “I love you.”