Shelby [Part 2]
Thirty minutes had gone by before her head stopped spinning, her breathing heavy from not being able to inhale through her nose. As she wiped her own tears, Shelby looked at the tattoos on her left hand. Years ago three of her fingers had been beautifully detailed with three rings, excluding her thumb and ring finger. Each ring appeared to be just an outline. Every bone from those three fingers, along with some of her hand, and all of her left arm had been tattooed with the finest skill using only black ink.
Shelby had died earning her tattoos, now only to find herself dying once again, but this time there didn’t seem to be an end in sight, no reward, just more damage. She had never felt so hopelessly lost. More and more, she missed her mother terribly. Sadly, Shelby’s mother passed away five years ago from injuries sustained during a car accident, not long after she had first begun seeing Gabriel. Although not a racist woman, Shelby’s mother had stressed to Shelby the challenges she would be facing, her being of Italian descent, and Gabriel being Hispanic. She had continually asked her daughter to stop seeing Gabriel, right up until her tragic death. Not long before her passing, Shelby had a conversation with her mother about relationships and men. Something Shelby’s mother had said that day while they enjoyed lunch together echoed in her head.
“Shelby baby…find a man who will wipe your tears..he is out there baby…the man for you is out there and you have not found him yet my dear…I promise.”
Shelby’s mother had said these words over and over the day before the accident as if she was already pleading with her daughter from her own death bed.
Shelby had definitely not yet found the man her mother had promised her. Not only would Gabriel not wipe her tears, but crying only made him angrier. Sometimes his kids would join in on the pain, teasing her at will, even when their father was in the same room. Instead of scolding, or even correcting his children, he didn’t hesitate to encourage their wicked and cruel behavior. At times Shelby wondered how she had missed his character flaws earlier in the relationship.
“Death would be better…why is he so cruel…what did I…I…I don’t under…?”
Cutting her words short, Shelby looked through the open bathroom door and towards the bedroom and shivered. Once again, she couldn’t shake off a terrible paranoid feeling. Shelby glanced up and over her left shoulder towards the medicine cabinet. Holding her breath, she froze, her eyes fixed on the mirror, and the reflection within it, a reflection that shouldn’t be there.
She got up and looked at the vanity mirror, and then the mirror on the opposite wall. She had lived in this house for four years and hadn’t noticed this one thing, something very creepy. The reflexion of the mirror over the sink reflected the image from the mirror on the opposite wall, which reflected the image from the mirror in the hallway outside of the bathroom. The three mirrors worked together perfectly to shine from the hallway into the bathroom, or vise Versa. As Shelby looked down the hallway towards the living room, once again the line of sight ended with a large mirror.
Not wanting to think about such dark and unclean things any longer, she took a deep breath and sat back down on to the lid of the toilet, unrolled a small pile of toilet paper, then proceeded to blow her nose several times, checking the soft paper to make sure her sinuses had not started bleeding. She had been having problems with nose bleeds since last year. At times Shelby feared that she might be dying, or worse, dying slowly.
[End Part 2]