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Nevereverland

I had read another prompt @twisted-n-thirsty but with MC2AU... and it was so glassy and perfectly angsty that I can`t help with myself. I use as reference these posts so come to check it before reading (¯▿¯) Also, as I promised, I tag you @starshiningsirius as well 🌻

Prompt n. Rot Smell, Emergency Call, Broken Mirrors

You well remembered the stories of your grandmother, how reluctantly she shared moments of her past, how often her beautiful features were distorted by sadness and pain. At such moments, her gaze always rushed to the landscape outside the window, although in the depths of your soul you always knew that it wasn't cars that rushed before her eyes, but fragments of the distant past.

She has always been a cheerful person, optimistic and purposeful. She was always ready to fight for what she thought was right. There was no thing in this world that could break your grandmother, at least that's how you always thought. So you would always think if you didn’t notice the rare moments of weakness that a woman wise in life allowed herself. As if she still couldn't believe that something terrible, the nightmare, was finally over.

In hers fairy tale she spoke with special warmth about three persons. Quick-tempered, good at maneuvering with words, but at the same time a loyal friend who loves cherry pies. A honest student, who decided to become better version of himself at all costs, and strange cat who dreams of becoming a great wizard. Often she added: "I hope they managed to make their wishes come true. I sincerely hope because they deserve it." Your parents often kindly scolded her for stories, but she always answered with a slight smile.

"Is it a sin to pray for the welfare of a close friends?"

It was then that you realized that there was something more hidden in your grandmother's stories. Something she never talked about more than in passing. From conversations with her, you were able to identify several strange facts. This has become your new hobby. As if you were playing a game in which the more information you collect, the greater the advantage you will have.

*

Strict to everyone else and most importantly to himself is a young man, whose red curls on his head were folded in the shape of a heart.

An intelligent but insecure trader of the deep sea, always accompanied by two faithful shadows.

The young man who is like a bright sun that descending from the firmament and illuminating the earth.

Not cowardly, as in the fairy tale with Dorothy, but a lazy lion, skillfully hiding its claws and fangs.

A handsome person who has reached extraordinary heights with hard work and effort.

He was opposed by an uncommunicative young man, who for some unknown reason didn`t leave his own room.

Among the many characters that your grandmother spoke about, one she mentioned least of all. There was a feeling that in this way she was trying to erase him from her memory. As if the person with the piercing green eyes could somehow become real if she will talk about him too often, as if he could somehow harm her.

*

Years passed, mysterious stories eventually began to be forgotten, becoming part of children's funny play times. Grandmother's words ceased to seem interesting and exciting.

You realized how much you were wrong only when gazes were directed at you from all sides, not hiding disappointment and bitterness. As if everyone was expecting to see someone else. As if you were committing a crime by your very existence.

Despite the rising tide of resentment inside, you decided to focus on more important issues. If you aren`t the one everyone was waiting for, then there is no need to find you either. Right?..

So why is the weird masked man shaking his head guiltily? Why, despite pronounced disgust, were you still not allowed to come back? As if a snap of your fingers, as soon as you turned to the mirror, it shattered into hundreds of fragments, leaving your silhouette, frozen in surprise, to look into an empty frame.

This is how your days began to pass in an unfamiliar world, which, however, you knew from your grandmother's stories. You chose to hide this information from the rest: impressions from the first meeting were still fresh, the feeling of unjustified expectations.

Indignation from inadvertently thrown phrases.

It would be great if your hair was of a different length or even in color. How would a different eye shade fit you. How wonderful it would be if you had a different character.

How ideal it would be if another person came into the world instead of you.

The constant pressure from dealing with eccentrics was draining. You wanted to scream with all might of voice who you are. You wanted to rip off a lot of the labels that they tried so hard to hang on you.

Unwittingly, you felt like the heroine of a novel, who, by the will of fate, ended up in an asylum. Another second and your stubbornly resisting psyche won`t stand it. Another moment and you will become who everyone so desperately wants you to be.

What everyone is so eagerly awaiting to happen.

Sighing, you leaned against the back of an armchair by the fireplace in the hall. The realization of such an unhealthy interest in your modest person has overtaken as suddenly as recently the clear sky was illuminated by the first lightning, gathering thunderclouds. The gifts that were presented to you as friendly ones completely corresponded to the tastes of the grandmother. Her favorite flowers, books of her favorite genres, her favorite sweets. The elegant bracelet in a velvet box is exactly the same that she couldn`t take off.

So, this world is her nightmare. The same perverted wonderland that she got into through the mirror, not the rabbit hole. The very place from which she fled, but the question whether you will be able to do the same remains open.

A strange noise outside distracted you from your thoughts: as if something was being dragged along the ground. At the same time, the phone starts to vibrate, looking down at the screen you see the name "Deuce".

“Deuce, why are you-...”

The young man immediately interrupts you with a simple "RUN", after which the connection is cut off. The body freezes in fear, noticing the silhouette of a young man who has stopped outside the window. It looks like his patience has finally run out and he decided to move on to action.

A distinct smell of rot began to spread in the air, causing you to feel nauseous, but you still didn't dare to look away from the window.

"My love, will you open the door to your beloved?"

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