Spieflein, Spieglein ...
Excerpt
Dear Diary:
I dreamed that I was standing there in the hallway at school. I was right outside the library in the big alcove where they put up displays. At first I thought I was just like all the other students milling around. But when I tried to move, I was frozen in place. My hands and feet wouldn't obey me no matter if I heard the late bell ringing and everyone shouting and screaming as they scampered off to class. I tried to scream at the top of my lungs, "Wait for me!" But my lips were frozen, too.
All day long I had to stand there right across from the office, down the hall from the cafeteria. I listened to girls chattering about assignments as they hurried with big armfuls of books in and out of the library. All during lunch I could smell the spicy odor of chili drifting down the hallway. But I couldn't eat. I could only listen as the gym classes played ball just outside the windows. The sun got into my eyes, and I couldn't even turn my head away.
I saw myself in the glass-fronted office across the hall. There was a shiny veneer to my skin as if I had been polished. My hand was raised to my necklace. The other was at my side in a gesture so rigid it was as if I was made of wood. My face had the same expression from minute to minute no matter what I felt inside as if I'd been sculpted that way. I was standing on a pedestal with the label "Denise Manning."
Fear shot through me. Everyone thought I was an exhibit! I was not real! How had I gotten this way?
Slowly everyone left the building. Lockers slammed. Buses took off. Even the teachers left. They turned the lights out. I was all alone in the dark.
"Better get used to it," whispered a voice. "Now you know what it's like to be dead."
Dear Diary:
I dreamed that I was standing there in the hallway at school. I was right outside the library in the big alcove where they put up displays. At first I thought I was just like all the other students milling around. But when I tried to move, I was frozen in place. My hands and feet wouldn't obey me no matter if I heard the late bell ringing and everyone shouting and screaming as they scampered off to class. I tried to scream at the top of my lungs, "Wait for me!" But my lips were frozen, too.
All day long I had to stand there right across from the office, down the hall from the cafeteria. I listened to girls chattering about assignments as they hurried with big armfuls of books in and out of the library. All during lunch I could smell the spicy odor of chili drifting down the hallway. But I couldn't eat. I could only listen as the gym classes played ball just outside the windows. The sun got into my eyes, and I couldn't even turn my head away.
I saw myself in the glass-fronted office across the hall. There was a shiny veneer to my skin as if I had been polished. My hand was raised to my necklace. The other was at my side in a gesture so rigid it was as if I was made of wood. My face had the same expression from minute to minute no matter what I felt inside as if I'd been sculpted that way. I was standing on a pedestal with the label "Denise Manning."
Fear shot through me. Everyone thought I was an exhibit! I was not real! How had I gotten this way?
Slowly everyone left the building. Lockers slammed. Buses took off. Even the teachers left. They turned the lights out. I was all alone in the dark.
"Better get used to it," whispered a voice. "Now you know what it's like to be dead."
