The Broken Mirror

by Tshombe

  Copyright © 2018 by TS Amen Publishing

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

  First Printing: 2011

  ISBN 978-1-7321857-2-2

  TS Amen Publishing

  490 Lake Park Avenue, 10824

  Oakland, CA 94610

  www.tsamenpublishing.com

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated in loving memory to Shakir Stewart, my big cousin. You were and always will be larger than life. I haven’t

  forgotten your advice. We all miss you a lot. I love you Fam!

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Part One: Family Strangers The Lost Princess

  She Found Love

  In Death

  The Angel

  Part Two: The Family Friend The King

  Cross Walks

  Inside the Castle

  Day and Night

  Spring Love

  One Last Kiss

  Tell Me What You See

  Part Three: Curse of the Fantasy Reflection The Broken Mirror

  The Rocking Chair

  The Years of Seeking

  Introduction

  This is the first book in the Fantasy of Love series. In this book you will read three individual stories from the perspective of those in love with a young lady born under a curse called The Broken Mirror. The reason for the curse and how it will be broken will unfold through the details of each story. For those who have been in love, are in love, seek to be in love, or those who wish to never be in love again, this book has been created for you.

  Please keep in mind that no one owns love and sharing love with someone you choose is a luxury, not a right. Enjoy the moments you reflect love and avoid holding love alone, because that is the curse of the broken mirror.

  Part One

  Family Strangers

  The Lost Princess

  She sat watching the man, knowing he was taking his last breath. Though each gasp was more troubled than the last, it would be a while before the poison stopped his heart. The room in disarray looked as though it had been abandoned to vagrants. The two of them and the mess they had created were the only responsible parties here. A lamp on its side offered the only light. The hostess was not concerned with fixing decor in this place she once called home. Her eyes glimmered in the dim light as she surveyed her surroundings; stimulated by the remnants of the poisoned man’s struggle, the residence had never looked more beautiful.

  She moved slowly, circling the chair holding her prey. She peered at his wrists and ankles bound tightly by her rope, crimson dripping to the floor. Smiling approvingly, she sat down in front of him examining the effects of her handiwork: the terror in his expression, his fear that she may bring more broken glass to his skin. In this room the man recognized hell as the demon before him spoke.

  “You’re probably wondering why I’ve done this, but I’m sure if you put the pieces together the picture to this puzzle should be quite clear. You know what? I’m being very rude. Where are my manners? My name, as you know, is Cassandra and I will be your hostess for your last night of life. We only have a little time, so let me begin.”

  She poured a glass of wine, took a sip, and laughed.

  “You know what, Charles? This apartment is probably the best place I’ve ever lived in. Unlike the fancy homes you’re accustomed to, I’ve always been one step above no home at all. Did your parents raise you?” She asked as if he was going to answer back.

  “Well, I wouldn’t know what that’s like. My parents got rid of me as soon as I was born. Can you imagine what that must be like? Can you imagine the people who created you not even wanting to be bothered with caring for you? Can you imagine that? I was unloved the day I was born. I was never told how I came into foster care and by the time I was old enough to ask, nobody knew. Maybe they just didn’t care, but the fact remains I never found out. You know, a lady told me once that it really didn’t matter how or why I was where I was. I was there and that’s all I needed to know. I’m sure you can see why I hated her answer. I bounced around from group home to group home and all this bitch could tell me is that I’m there! I guess she thought I didn’t know. They treated us as if we were all stupid anyway. I guess in her mind, I needed to be reminded.

  “You know what my very first memory is? You’ll never guess! This has got to be something everyone remembers. I must have been six-years-old. It was a trip to the doctor’s office. I was so happy, and I can’t remember why; because happy thoughts are something that just didn’t happen for me that often. Well, I’m in the doctor’s office eating candy and the woman who brought me down there is crying. It didn’t really bother me. I guess even then I had stopped crying. People crying was something you got used to in the foster care system. So, as I’m watching this woman crying she’s walking towards me saying, ‘Who touched you? ‘Who touched you?’ Over and over again. All I wanted was more candy. I didn’t answer her. To tell you the truth I can’t remember who hadn’t touch me. The older boys were always sneaking around at night. That’s sad huh? I don’t even remember the first time I was intimate with someone. I thought it was normal to play with boys like that. I really thought that everyone my age played like that. Silly me! Finally, after catching me playing inappropriately, my first-grade teacher told me that wasn’t the case. I don’t remember what I said, but I know I went to another foster home that same day.

  “You know what? I think that’s the first day I began to feel bad about who I was. Can you imagine a six-year-old child ashamed of who she is? That’s got to be the worst thing on earth. So now, I did what most do when they feel like that. I shut myself out from the world. I refused to let anyone into my life because people in my life only made me feel worse.

  “At school, I became the kid who sat by herself. Other kids tried to be my friend, but I wouldn’t even talk to them. Some even tried to tease me out of my shell, but all that did was drive me further into my fortress. I watched them play, wondering if just one of them was like me; if just one of them had ever felt what it’s like not to be loved. Just one! At the end of those days, their parents would pick them up and I would catch the bus home with the grownups. Then one day as if by magic, this girl showed up at school. She was the new kid, so nobody played with her. During lunch, she came and sat next to me on my bench, but I didn’t say a word to her. I just stared. She had really pretty eyes that seemed to talk to me when I looked at her. They seemed to say, ‘I’m just like you.’ But that was impossible, you know! At that time in my life I thought there couldn’t be anyone on earth who was like me. As the lunch break went on, I became fascinated by this new, powerful presence in my world. I watched her when she wasn’t looking, fearful of those beautiful, talking eyes. I studied her face, hands, hair, and her clothes without her noticing. I consumed every inch of her and by the end of the day, I was in love.

  “As usual, I watched the rest of the kids after school get picked up by their parents, but this time it was different. Someone else stayed behind with me: the girl with the beautiful, talking eyes. She stood away from me as if to mirror me or something. She wouldn’t look at me when I looked at her, but when I turned away I could feel her watching just as I had done with her earlier. I tried to catch her eye, but she always looked away. It became a game for us to take turns studying each other while the other looked away. Does that game sound familiar, Charles? Is that something you’ve played before while seducing your conquests? I bet you have.”

  She tossed a small cup of rubbing alcohol in his face causing him to scream. She l
aughed, enjoying his misery.

  “You listen to me while I’m talking to you or I will cut you in worse places and clean your wounds with more of what was in that cup! Does that sound like something you’d rather do than listen to me? Huh? Because I can stop talking if that’s what you want for your last moments of life.”

  With great effort, the injured man lifted his head, her signal to continue.

  “I dislike having to be so rough with you, but it’s for the best. I’m trying to entertain you and make you happy.”

  Leaning over she kissed him gently on the mouth.

  “Where was I? Oh yeah, the game! So, of course it made me crave those beautiful, talking eyes. I wanted them so badly, but she wouldn’t let me have them. It drove me crazy! Then my bus came. I was more sad than relieved, the torturous game was over, but without victory. I got on the bus happy to have played, even though it meant being away from her. It was the first time I had been happy about anything in a while, so I guess that’s why I didn’t notice her behind me as I walked down the aisle. As I turned to sit down, my heart skipped a beat. My lucky day! Before me the eyes I longed for told me to scoot over so she could sit down. I did as they requested, and she sat down right next to me. I couldn’t help it. For what seemed like an hour, we just stared at each other. Then she said, ‘Hi, my name is Eva.’ That was the prettiest sound I had ever head a person speak. Eva. I said her name just to see if I could make the same beautiful sound. She smiled at me, then touched my hair and said, ‘It’s Eva as in forever.’ It sounded even more beautiful when she put it like that.

  “From that day forward, we were inseparable. She was just like me but without being a foster kid. Her parents had been stolen from her by drugs and prison. Her grandmother took care of her. She told me that once her mom got out of prison they would live together. Her dad was gone long before she could remember. Her grandmother called him junkie and as far as Eva knew, that was his nickname.

  “I can’t begin to tell you how in love I was with her. I couldn’t wait to go to school. We would sit next to each other and pass notes in class. We would sit with each other at lunch and share our food. We would play together at recess, refusing to play with the other kids. We made it a point only to play games that would not attract our classmates. My favorite was when I would sit on a bench and she would stand on the opposite side of the playground. We would stare into each other’s eyes until everyone on the playground disappeared. I really used to love that game.

  “Her favorite game I didn’t like very much, but I played it to make her happy. It was horrible! She would make me talk to other kids or grownups until she wanted me to stop. I hated it so much. The worst part was that these people would try to talk to me again only that time I wouldn’t speak back. That was the other part of the game; they would speak to me and I would pretend not to even know they were there. Then they’d disappear and all I could see was Eva. Most of the time I’d only know other people were there when they touched me; as I’ve told you before, that’s not something I like very much. So, I would scream. They would let go and then they would disappear for real, leaving only me and Eva. We played these games everywhere we’d go and slowly I began to reject everything but our world. I hated the real world; I was ten-years-old about to turn eleven. My foster home was a prison for children and love there was a bad word. I slept with a kitchen knife under my pillow and didn’t have a reason why. I was just afraid.

  “For my eleventh birthday, Eva and I planned to go stay at this castle where her uncle lived. She told me he was king of a country and he was going to give us our own city where we could be ourselves. Can you imagine having a whole city to yourself, with only your best friend to share it with? All we had to do was stay at his castle while they cleaned it and stocked it with our favorite foods. I couldn’t wait to go. I couldn’t wait to get away from everything but her and us.

  “The day of my eleventh birthday, I went to school with a backpack full of clothes and waited at the hiding spot we’d picked to meet up. Hours passed but Eva never came. At some point, I went to sleep and awoke to darkness. The sky full of diamonds and Eva nowhere to be found. I didn’t know what time it was. Afraid, I didn’t move. Suddenly it came to me, I remembered that she was at the bus station waiting for me. Eva was going to be so mad at me for forgetting. I got up and began to run as fast as I could. The bus station wasn’t too far away, maybe a couple miles. I ran and ran toward Eva and the bus station without exhaustion. I can’t even imagine running that far today without stopping and I can’t understand how I did it now, but I did. I made it to the bus station. That night it was so crowded. People everywhere; all grownups. I couldn’t see over the towering adults. Then someone called my name. It sounded like her, so I ran in the direction of the voice. When I reached where I thought she was, all I found was a tall man standing, looking at me. He had eyes like Eva. He smiled and stuck out his hand greet me. I didn’t move. ‘Hi Cassandra. I’m pleased to meet you. My name is Shadow.’ I didn’t know him, but he knew my name. I refused to touch his hand. He knelt down so that we were face to face. I could see his wise and powerful features clearly. His presence entranced me.

  “I woke up the next day on the bus alone, not knowing where I was. Shadow was gone, and Eva was still nowhere to be found.

  “I looked around the bus and saw only strange faces. Unfamiliar people who didn’t know me or where I was supposed to be. At eleven-years-old, I was free and in search of the castle where Eva should be.”

  Her victim vomited a green tinged foam and dry heaved, before vomiting again. The frothy remnants of the poison left as evidence in the corners of his mouth. She knew every gag must have been excruciating for him forced upright in his chair. She grabbed a wet towel and dabbed the corners of his mouth gagging at her victim’s waste.

  “Eva!” She screamed. “Help me clean him! This was your idea, it’s disgusting!”

  The man looked around his prison, but saw no one but his lone captor, whose voice shifted with her next words.

  “This wasn’t all my idea, Cassandra!” A voice rose from deep within her chest.

  “Yes, it was your idea,” her previous voice returned, “You said this would be the best way. You said talking to him would make me feel better. I want to stop!”

  “No,” bellowed the voice from deep within. “You talk to him until I tell you to stop. We are still playing the game. Now quit wasting time before he dies.”

  She slapped herself hard across the face.

  “I’m sorry, Eva. I’m sorry. I’ll play the game.”

  She stood up, straightened her clothes, and sat calmly in front of him again.

  “As you can see, my search for Eva at her Uncle’s castle was successful. The castle was as big as an entire city, but I found her. Yep… At her Uncle Sam’s, and he could be real mean sometimes.

  “We lived out in the hallways of his castle with other kids, working to get back inside the warm, furnished rooms. We’d all been banished and lived in fear of being caught by her Uncle’s guards. If they found us they would throw us in the dungeon or make us go back to where we came from. I don’t know if I wouldn’t have been better off at a foster home. Life was hard in the hallways, but that was the price of freedom; whatever that is.

  “You see this scar above my eye? Yeah, I got this my first night in the castle. We were in an old warehouse on her Uncle’s property and I saw this older boy who was probably thirteen, sitting on a crate eating a sandwich. I couldn’t remember when I ate last. Eva told me to ask him for a piece of it, so I figured it wouldn’t be a problem. Cautiously I walked towards him, watching him eat his sandwich. He did not acknowledge me, but when I got within reach he looked up, then continued to eat as if I wasn’t there. Hesitantly I spoke to him, ‘Hello, my name is Cassandra, what’s yours?’ He acted as though he hadn’t heard me, so I turned away. Then everything went black as the back of my skull erupted in pain. Crashing blows and explosive pain continued all ov
er my head. I was being attacked! That boy eating the sandwich beat me until I was unconscious.

  “When I awoke, I was on a bed in a makeshift tent constructed out of grey parachute with random boards holding it up. A candle nearby heated a can of food as well as the tent. The same boy that had beat me so savagely leaned over to open the can. I flinched in pain. I was scared Eva was gone.”

  An inappropriate laugh erupted from her full lips and hardened heart as she took sip of wine. She drew the liquid into her mouth slowly before returning to her somberness.

  “The boy later told me his name was Gavin. Up until that point in my life Gavin was the only kid I had met that controlled his own destiny. He was my first teacher inside the hallways of the castle. That first day after he beat me unconscious his first words to me were, ‘You’re mine now. You belong to me. If you manage to get away I will kill you and anyone who’s in my way of getting to you. Now eat!’ I didn’t say anything to him. Like the various boards holding up his tent, I was property. I belonged to him. He was only thirteen and everyone in the warehouse did what he said. Later in our relationship that made me feel good; being the property of the strongest.

  “Still healing from the beating, he sent me out with some older kids the next day. I had no idea what to do. All he said was, ‘Don’t come back without food or money.’ That’s it! That’s all. No direction, no nothing. Gavin’s parting words to me were punctuated by my bruises, just don’t come back here without food or money.

  “We hit the trash strewn streets in search of treasure. The other kids broke off into groups, I just stood there trying to decide which way to go. A fat kid with a greasy face called out to me, ‘Are you coming?’ He was a foot taller than me and real ugly, but I was so happy to have direction, I just ran toward him and his bunch. I had no idea where we were going or what we were doing. I just didn’t want to be alone.