Mirror of Truth
Mirror of Truth
Rating: G
Words: 2,044
Genre: I'm not sure but...it's definitely not romance. Lololol :))
A/N: I wrote this for our Creative Writing class last semester, and I'm not that proud of it, not even confident about it, but I posted it here to share to you. If you have any comments, please do post them. :D And btw, this is somehow inspired by "Mars", the Taiwanese drama which is based on a Japanese manga (with the same title I think, but I'm not so sure about that). So...yeah. Enjoy! ^^
**Start...
Perfection: that is everything his life is about; from his family, to his studies, and up to his career in music. Underneath the smiles, the laughter, and that Adonis-inspired face, there is a guy hidden in the shadows of a past that he can never forget.
“Hey,” Demi whispers anxiously, calling Mikhail’s attention. “You’re in a daze again.”
“Sorry,” Mikhail replies, soft enough for only Demi to hear. He fidgets on his seat at the back of the classroom, beside the window. The wind from outside crawls like ants marching in line on his skin, as he looks at the professor who is currently writing something on the whiteboard. Since he is seated at the back of the room, all Mikhail can see are the 24 bowed heads of his classmates.
Luckily, Mikhail does not get noticed by his professor this time. This is surprising for Mikhail, because their professor always calls him to recite almost every meeting. After all, he’s that kind of student who won’t stop studying unless he gets everything right. He loves to study, and he loves his major: Architecture, at the University of Santo Tomas. Almost all his professors like him, and he is a heartthrob in school because of his academic excellence and charismatic appearance. He wears ebony black hair, his bangs covering most of his forehead; his eyebrows are thin strands of sewing threads perfectly aligned just below his forehead; his dark-brown eyes the shape of the full moon; the bridge of his nose stands firm on the gap between his eyes. He smiles in the direction of Demi, his friend for two years, showing off his well-deep dimples and flashing his snow-white teeth. As soon as the bell rings, the whole class stands up and immediately leaves the room, like how passengers leave the LRT when they reach the station of their destination. They all stand up at the ring of the bell, and rush towards the door.
Mikhail, as usual, walks along the corridors of the Beato Angelico Building, every girl’s eyes stuck on him and Demi. Demi blushes as they pass by the corridor, mindful of the looks on the girls’ faces. Mikhail notices how uneasy Demi feels because of the envious stares of everyone on the corridor, so he puts an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Demi blushes even more, her cheeks turning rosy pink, and her lips widen into a smile that shows all her teeth off. She giggles a little and flips her shoulder-length layered hair, fixes her bangs, and tucks some of it behind her right ear. Her eyes gleam with unexplainable joy.
“What are you smiling about?” Mikhail asks her, as they head towards the gate that leads to España, the one near the Beato Angelico Building.
“Nothing,” Demi answers, still smiling, blinding every passerby with her ivory teeth. “And you? What were you thinking about back there in the classroom? Professor Cruz almost caught you for the nth time around. If you were caught you would’ve been the one to recite…although I think he will just be impressed- again.”
Mikhail chuckles. “I was just thinking about how our gig this weekend will turn out.”
“Oh really?” Demi asks, raising an eyebrow, suspicious of Mikhail’s answer. They’ve known each other for almost 3 years; she became friends with him since 1st year college and from then on they always shared the same classes. Now they’re already in their third year.
Mikhail gives Demi a quizzical look and raises one of his brows. They stop walking once they reach the sidewalk being occupied by vendors who sell cigarettes and other stuff, and wait for the signal light to turn red; they cross the street once every single car in front of the pedestrian lane follows the signal light and comes to a halt.
Demi shrugs her shoulders at Mikhail, and turns her attention to the left, waiting for the right jeepney to come. From where they are both standing, the rumbling thunder-like sound of the engines of the passing cars, jeepneys, buses, and trucks, can be heard. Fresh air does not live in this particular part of Manila, for the air is mixed with dirt, and other dust particles; it is polluted.
This is the usual scenario in Demi and Mikhail’s life. Once Demi finds the jeepney, one labeled with Proj.6 or SM West, Mikhail gives her a quick hug. Demi gets on the jeep and waves goodbye to her best friend.
“See you tomorrow!” Mikhail shouts cheerfully, waving back at Demi. The jeepney runs until it is out of sight, and Mikhail makes his way back to the other side of España Blvd., then walks along P. Noval St., towards his unit at the Galleria Suites. He enters the towering building, rides the elevator, and gets off when he reaches the fourth floor. He grabs the door handle that leads to the fourth floor corridor, and makes his way towards the door that is labeled with the numbers 417. He reaches for the silver key in his pocket, unlocks the door, and enters the unit.
The kitchen is the first thing that greets him once he enters his room. A little to the left of the threshold is the bathroom, and a few more steps ahead lay a single bed, which stands near the window. The window opens out to P. Noval street, where a lot of buses, jeepneys, and trucks pass by every day. Tired as he is, Mikhail drops dead on his bed and falls asleep.
The wristwatch Mikhail is wearing strikes at 12 midnight. Mikhail wakes up to find himself still in his uniform. He stands up and goes off to the bathroom, and washes his face with the water from the faucet. He then finds himself face to face with the mirror. He does not want to stare at himself in the mirror, but the mirror stares at him with glaring eyes. Mikhail slowly takes tiny steps backwards, making his back collide with the bathroom door. He breathes heavily, taking his eyes off the mirror, but the magnet in his eyes does not stop him from looking at his reflection. Before he even manages to wipe the shaky expression off of his face, his reflection smirks at him, as it continues to glare at him. Mikhail loses consciousness, and falls on the cold tiles of the bathroom, saying “Michael” as he closes his eyes.
He still finds himself in his apartment unit at the Galleria Suites the following morning, his body still feeling weak. He sits on his bed, just a few feet away from the TV. He tries to recall what had happened the night before.
“You’re awake,” someone says, emerging from the bathroom.
“Nathan?” Mikhail says, shock written on his face.
Nathan shrugs his shoulders, walks toward Mkhail, and sits beside him. He wears the same uniform that Mikhail is wearing. He fixes the bangs of his chocolate-brown hair, revealing his almond eyes, and thick brows. He had thin red lips, and high cheek bones. At first glance, one can mistake him for a girl. His hair almost touched the collar of his uniform.
“What happened?” Mikhail asks him. “How did you get in?”
“I borrowed the spare keys,” Nathan answers. He explains how he happened to pass by that morning to check on his friend. It is around 7 in the morning when Nathan decided to go to the Galleria Suites to visit Mikhail. He then finds the door locked, and asks one of the maintenance people to lend him the spare key. Once he unlocks the door to room 417, he finds Mikhail lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom, and carries him to his bed.
“Does Demi know about this?”
“Yes, I called her this morning. She’s so worried, Mikhail.” Just as Nathan blurts this out, Demi enters the door, carrying grocery bags. Her black hair dripped wet on her blouse.
“Mikhail!” she exclaims, delighted. She puts the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and runs off to Mikhail, giving him a tight hug. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Mikhail tells her, trying to break free from her hug.
“We were so worried,” Nathan added, making way for Demi to sit beside Mikhail. “You were calling someone…Michael. You were shouting in your sleep. ‘Michael! Get down!’”
“Who's Michael?” Demi asks.
“I…don’t know,” Mikhail answers quietly.
The next few days saw the decline of the once ‘perfect’ Mikhail Lopez. His mind drifts off into space, he cannot concentrate on his studies, and he skips classes. One day, he does not attend his class at all. He merely sits, curled up on the sofa, with the TV on. Someone rings the doorbell, and when Mikhail opens the door, he does not find it a surprise to see Demi standing right on his doorstep. As much as he wants to be alone, he lets her in out of courtesy. Demi sits on the sofa, beside Mikhail, not a single word coming out of her mouth.
“What’s up?” Mikhail asks her, clicking the remote, changing channels every now and then.
“I should be asking you the same question,” Demi replies, avoiding Mikhail’s curious stare.
“What do you want to know?”
A minute of silence, then…
“What is happening to you? You’re not like this, Mikhail… You’ve changed, and I don’t even know who you are now.” Demi’s voice sounds a little shaky; she is near to tears.
Mikhail sighs, and asks, “You want to know who Michael is?” Demi immediately nods, and Mikhail answers, “He’s my twin brother. And he’s dead.”
“I’m sorry…” Demi said, holding her tears back.
Mikhail lets out another sigh, this time even heavier. “We were sixteen when he jumped off the 10-storey building in our school…”
---
“Michael! Get Down!” the younger Mikhail shouts, attempting to go near his twin brother, who is standing on the ledge of the rooftop of the High School building.
“I have no reason to live anymore!” Michael shouts back, not listening to his brother’s pleads. “Everyone lies! Everything about this life is covered up in lies! I can’t live with this!”
“Don’t say that! Our parents love us, Michael! So please, come down!”
Michael laughs. “Our parents love us? Oh Mikhail, the father we know isn’t even our father! He’s our real father’s brother!”
“What…? What are you -?”
“HAHAHA! I told you, everything is a lie! And I choose to die before I completely drown in this pool of lies!!!” Without another word, Michael jumps off. Mikhail runs toward the ledge, but everything seems to happen so fast.
“MICHAEL!!!!!!” Mikhail’s shout of frustration and grief echoed through the skies.
---
“I wasn’t able to do anything,” Mikhail says, unable to stop the tears from falling. Demi hands him a pack of tissue, as she wipes the tears off of her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Mikhail,” Demi says, her voice trembling.
Mikhail shakes his head. “I’m sure Michael would be proud of me, because I finally told the truth… That was what he wanted, after all. He was just so sick of living in lies… Every time I look at my reflection on the mirror, I am haunted by him, by his longing for truth to be revealed. Every time I look at the mirror, I see him, begging…begging for the truth, begging for justice. And he probably cannot accept the fact that our deceased mother kept from us the truth about our real father… He wasn’t able to handle it.”
“I’m glad you told me this,” Demi says, patting Mikhail on the shoulder. “Everyone thought you had a perfect life, a perfect family…but then you showed me your true side. Of all people, why me?”
Mikhail puts off a radiant smile. “Because you’re the one I trust the most.”
Demi chuckles, her cheeks turning vermillion.
The next days and weeks witnessed the tighter bond of friendship between Demi and Mikhail, and also of Mikhail with his trusted friend, Nathan.
One night, the group of three held a small celebration at Mikhail’s apartment. Everyone is gathered in the living room; Mikhail sits on the couch, Nathan on the bed, and Demi on one of the bean bags. Mikhail excuses himself, and goes into the bathroom. He looks at his reflection on the mirror. This time, there isn’t any fear surging through him.
“Finally,” he tells his reflection, “Revenge. We’re even…Mikhail.” His reflection smirks at him, once again.
**End...
P.S.: Sorry if my grammar sucks big time. You can correct me if you want to... It's been years since I've last written a story so... Lol :))
Rating: G
Words: 2,044
Genre: I'm not sure but...it's definitely not romance. Lololol :))
A/N: I wrote this for our Creative Writing class last semester, and I'm not that proud of it, not even confident about it, but I posted it here to share to you. If you have any comments, please do post them. :D And btw, this is somehow inspired by "Mars", the Taiwanese drama which is based on a Japanese manga (with the same title I think, but I'm not so sure about that). So...yeah. Enjoy! ^^
**Start...
Perfection: that is everything his life is about; from his family, to his studies, and up to his career in music. Underneath the smiles, the laughter, and that Adonis-inspired face, there is a guy hidden in the shadows of a past that he can never forget.
“Hey,” Demi whispers anxiously, calling Mikhail’s attention. “You’re in a daze again.”
“Sorry,” Mikhail replies, soft enough for only Demi to hear. He fidgets on his seat at the back of the classroom, beside the window. The wind from outside crawls like ants marching in line on his skin, as he looks at the professor who is currently writing something on the whiteboard. Since he is seated at the back of the room, all Mikhail can see are the 24 bowed heads of his classmates.
Luckily, Mikhail does not get noticed by his professor this time. This is surprising for Mikhail, because their professor always calls him to recite almost every meeting. After all, he’s that kind of student who won’t stop studying unless he gets everything right. He loves to study, and he loves his major: Architecture, at the University of Santo Tomas. Almost all his professors like him, and he is a heartthrob in school because of his academic excellence and charismatic appearance. He wears ebony black hair, his bangs covering most of his forehead; his eyebrows are thin strands of sewing threads perfectly aligned just below his forehead; his dark-brown eyes the shape of the full moon; the bridge of his nose stands firm on the gap between his eyes. He smiles in the direction of Demi, his friend for two years, showing off his well-deep dimples and flashing his snow-white teeth. As soon as the bell rings, the whole class stands up and immediately leaves the room, like how passengers leave the LRT when they reach the station of their destination. They all stand up at the ring of the bell, and rush towards the door.
Mikhail, as usual, walks along the corridors of the Beato Angelico Building, every girl’s eyes stuck on him and Demi. Demi blushes as they pass by the corridor, mindful of the looks on the girls’ faces. Mikhail notices how uneasy Demi feels because of the envious stares of everyone on the corridor, so he puts an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Demi blushes even more, her cheeks turning rosy pink, and her lips widen into a smile that shows all her teeth off. She giggles a little and flips her shoulder-length layered hair, fixes her bangs, and tucks some of it behind her right ear. Her eyes gleam with unexplainable joy.
“What are you smiling about?” Mikhail asks her, as they head towards the gate that leads to España, the one near the Beato Angelico Building.
“Nothing,” Demi answers, still smiling, blinding every passerby with her ivory teeth. “And you? What were you thinking about back there in the classroom? Professor Cruz almost caught you for the nth time around. If you were caught you would’ve been the one to recite…although I think he will just be impressed- again.”
Mikhail chuckles. “I was just thinking about how our gig this weekend will turn out.”
“Oh really?” Demi asks, raising an eyebrow, suspicious of Mikhail’s answer. They’ve known each other for almost 3 years; she became friends with him since 1st year college and from then on they always shared the same classes. Now they’re already in their third year.
Mikhail gives Demi a quizzical look and raises one of his brows. They stop walking once they reach the sidewalk being occupied by vendors who sell cigarettes and other stuff, and wait for the signal light to turn red; they cross the street once every single car in front of the pedestrian lane follows the signal light and comes to a halt.
Demi shrugs her shoulders at Mikhail, and turns her attention to the left, waiting for the right jeepney to come. From where they are both standing, the rumbling thunder-like sound of the engines of the passing cars, jeepneys, buses, and trucks, can be heard. Fresh air does not live in this particular part of Manila, for the air is mixed with dirt, and other dust particles; it is polluted.
This is the usual scenario in Demi and Mikhail’s life. Once Demi finds the jeepney, one labeled with Proj.6 or SM West, Mikhail gives her a quick hug. Demi gets on the jeep and waves goodbye to her best friend.
“See you tomorrow!” Mikhail shouts cheerfully, waving back at Demi. The jeepney runs until it is out of sight, and Mikhail makes his way back to the other side of España Blvd., then walks along P. Noval St., towards his unit at the Galleria Suites. He enters the towering building, rides the elevator, and gets off when he reaches the fourth floor. He grabs the door handle that leads to the fourth floor corridor, and makes his way towards the door that is labeled with the numbers 417. He reaches for the silver key in his pocket, unlocks the door, and enters the unit.
The kitchen is the first thing that greets him once he enters his room. A little to the left of the threshold is the bathroom, and a few more steps ahead lay a single bed, which stands near the window. The window opens out to P. Noval street, where a lot of buses, jeepneys, and trucks pass by every day. Tired as he is, Mikhail drops dead on his bed and falls asleep.
The wristwatch Mikhail is wearing strikes at 12 midnight. Mikhail wakes up to find himself still in his uniform. He stands up and goes off to the bathroom, and washes his face with the water from the faucet. He then finds himself face to face with the mirror. He does not want to stare at himself in the mirror, but the mirror stares at him with glaring eyes. Mikhail slowly takes tiny steps backwards, making his back collide with the bathroom door. He breathes heavily, taking his eyes off the mirror, but the magnet in his eyes does not stop him from looking at his reflection. Before he even manages to wipe the shaky expression off of his face, his reflection smirks at him, as it continues to glare at him. Mikhail loses consciousness, and falls on the cold tiles of the bathroom, saying “Michael” as he closes his eyes.
He still finds himself in his apartment unit at the Galleria Suites the following morning, his body still feeling weak. He sits on his bed, just a few feet away from the TV. He tries to recall what had happened the night before.
“You’re awake,” someone says, emerging from the bathroom.
“Nathan?” Mikhail says, shock written on his face.
Nathan shrugs his shoulders, walks toward Mkhail, and sits beside him. He wears the same uniform that Mikhail is wearing. He fixes the bangs of his chocolate-brown hair, revealing his almond eyes, and thick brows. He had thin red lips, and high cheek bones. At first glance, one can mistake him for a girl. His hair almost touched the collar of his uniform.
“What happened?” Mikhail asks him. “How did you get in?”
“I borrowed the spare keys,” Nathan answers. He explains how he happened to pass by that morning to check on his friend. It is around 7 in the morning when Nathan decided to go to the Galleria Suites to visit Mikhail. He then finds the door locked, and asks one of the maintenance people to lend him the spare key. Once he unlocks the door to room 417, he finds Mikhail lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom, and carries him to his bed.
“Does Demi know about this?”
“Yes, I called her this morning. She’s so worried, Mikhail.” Just as Nathan blurts this out, Demi enters the door, carrying grocery bags. Her black hair dripped wet on her blouse.
“Mikhail!” she exclaims, delighted. She puts the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and runs off to Mikhail, giving him a tight hug. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Mikhail tells her, trying to break free from her hug.
“We were so worried,” Nathan added, making way for Demi to sit beside Mikhail. “You were calling someone…Michael. You were shouting in your sleep. ‘Michael! Get down!’”
“Who's Michael?” Demi asks.
“I…don’t know,” Mikhail answers quietly.
The next few days saw the decline of the once ‘perfect’ Mikhail Lopez. His mind drifts off into space, he cannot concentrate on his studies, and he skips classes. One day, he does not attend his class at all. He merely sits, curled up on the sofa, with the TV on. Someone rings the doorbell, and when Mikhail opens the door, he does not find it a surprise to see Demi standing right on his doorstep. As much as he wants to be alone, he lets her in out of courtesy. Demi sits on the sofa, beside Mikhail, not a single word coming out of her mouth.
“What’s up?” Mikhail asks her, clicking the remote, changing channels every now and then.
“I should be asking you the same question,” Demi replies, avoiding Mikhail’s curious stare.
“What do you want to know?”
A minute of silence, then…
“What is happening to you? You’re not like this, Mikhail… You’ve changed, and I don’t even know who you are now.” Demi’s voice sounds a little shaky; she is near to tears.
Mikhail sighs, and asks, “You want to know who Michael is?” Demi immediately nods, and Mikhail answers, “He’s my twin brother. And he’s dead.”
“I’m sorry…” Demi said, holding her tears back.
Mikhail lets out another sigh, this time even heavier. “We were sixteen when he jumped off the 10-storey building in our school…”
---
“Michael! Get Down!” the younger Mikhail shouts, attempting to go near his twin brother, who is standing on the ledge of the rooftop of the High School building.
“I have no reason to live anymore!” Michael shouts back, not listening to his brother’s pleads. “Everyone lies! Everything about this life is covered up in lies! I can’t live with this!”
“Don’t say that! Our parents love us, Michael! So please, come down!”
Michael laughs. “Our parents love us? Oh Mikhail, the father we know isn’t even our father! He’s our real father’s brother!”
“What…? What are you -?”
“HAHAHA! I told you, everything is a lie! And I choose to die before I completely drown in this pool of lies!!!” Without another word, Michael jumps off. Mikhail runs toward the ledge, but everything seems to happen so fast.
“MICHAEL!!!!!!” Mikhail’s shout of frustration and grief echoed through the skies.
---
“I wasn’t able to do anything,” Mikhail says, unable to stop the tears from falling. Demi hands him a pack of tissue, as she wipes the tears off of her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Mikhail,” Demi says, her voice trembling.
Mikhail shakes his head. “I’m sure Michael would be proud of me, because I finally told the truth… That was what he wanted, after all. He was just so sick of living in lies… Every time I look at my reflection on the mirror, I am haunted by him, by his longing for truth to be revealed. Every time I look at the mirror, I see him, begging…begging for the truth, begging for justice. And he probably cannot accept the fact that our deceased mother kept from us the truth about our real father… He wasn’t able to handle it.”
“I’m glad you told me this,” Demi says, patting Mikhail on the shoulder. “Everyone thought you had a perfect life, a perfect family…but then you showed me your true side. Of all people, why me?”
Mikhail puts off a radiant smile. “Because you’re the one I trust the most.”
Demi chuckles, her cheeks turning vermillion.
The next days and weeks witnessed the tighter bond of friendship between Demi and Mikhail, and also of Mikhail with his trusted friend, Nathan.
One night, the group of three held a small celebration at Mikhail’s apartment. Everyone is gathered in the living room; Mikhail sits on the couch, Nathan on the bed, and Demi on one of the bean bags. Mikhail excuses himself, and goes into the bathroom. He looks at his reflection on the mirror. This time, there isn’t any fear surging through him.
“Finally,” he tells his reflection, “Revenge. We’re even…Mikhail.” His reflection smirks at him, once again.
**End...
P.S.: Sorry if my grammar sucks big time. You can correct me if you want to... It's been years since I've last written a story so... Lol :))