Waseem
The mirrors opened the gates of hell to his childhood…
His father, reeking of alcohol, voice feral, fist gripping a whip,
lashing it brutally against his mother's fragile body.
She screamed, tears pooling in her eyes,
her trembling hand pushing him away:
– Run, Waseem… hide… don't let your father see you!
But suddenly, his father seized him,
eyes burning red like embers,
the whip rising high in the air.
Waseem froze, terror locking his veins,
then fled with every ounce of strength,
his heart pounding like war drums.
In a flash, the scene shifted…
The same house,
his father laughing with a mistress in his room,
while his mother crumbled in another corner, sobbing over her cursed fate.
With shaky steps, the small boy approached her,
placing his tiny hand over hers,
his voice hoarse, broken by tears:
– Mama… don't cry… stay with me… don't leave me…
He dropped to his knees, screaming from his very soul:
– Please… I need you… I can't do this without you…
He clung to her desperately, searching for a shred of safety,
but suddenly, everything shattered.
His mother shoved him away harshly,
throwing him out the window, onto a speeding PTT truck,
her voice fading into the distance:
– Run, Waseem… run…
He leapt off the truck, racing back, breath ragged,
– Not this time… this time I'll save you!
But when he arrived…
he saw her lying lifeless on the floor,
blood spilling beneath her,
his father towering over her,
the whip dripping red, his face void of features—
a demon ripped straight from a nightmare.
Waseem collapsed, his body shaking violently,
a scream tearing from his throat,
splitting the silence in two:
– Nooooooooo! I couldn't save you… I failed you… forgive me, Mamaaaaaa!
And the mirrors multiplied around him,
each one replaying the moment of her death,
forcing him to live through his failure
again and again…
with no escape… no salvation.
Katie
She clutched her baby brother in her arms,
his tiny body trembling from the cold and hunger,
his cry a desperate plea for life…
but there was no milk, no food, no mercy.
She sat beside her mother, tears spilling as she rocked the infant weakly:
– Mama… what do we do? We're going to lose him…
Her mother wept too, her voice hoarse with despair:
– Your father's gone… no one's helping us… every time I beg for a job, they throw me out because I don't have a diploma…
The baby cried harder… until his voice suddenly faded.
He went limp in Katie's arms, like a lifeless doll.
A searing scream ripped from her throat:
– Noooooooo! Maaaaamaaaaa!
But the scene dissolved,
and the mirrors shifted to another hell…
She saw her mother working as a maid in a cruel household,
treated like a machine without feelings,
orders hurled at her relentlessly while she obeyed in silence,
her eyes hollowed out by humiliation.
Katie reached out, wanting to hold her, to whisper "I'm here with you,"
but her hands were frozen, useless,
as if she were only a ghost.
The mirrors twisted the knife deeper,
showing her lover's face,
his expression drenched in disgust:
– I could never love the daughter of a maid.
His laughter echoed, mocking her roots, her poverty,
each word cutting her open until she fled,
running from daggers sharper than any blade.
But the torment never ended…
The ground was covered in snow, the cold unbearable,
she and her siblings scavenging for wood to keep death away.
Her younger sister collapsed, lips blue, tears freezing on her cheeks:
– Katie… I can't anymore… my legs won't move…
Katie sprinted toward her, desperate to hold her,
to warm her fragile body...
but before she could touch her, the mirrors shifted again.
Now, towering men stood outside their home,
their shouts battering the walls like whips:
– If you don't pay us what you owe… we'll take one of your daughters instead!
Her mother screamed, body shaking in terror:
– Nooo! Don't touch my girls… their father is dead, have some mercy!
But a large man, belly spilling over his belt,
a filthy smile twisting his face,
grabbed her older sister, dragging her violently as her cries tore through the night sky.
Katie reached out, breathless, desperate:
– Nooooo! Take me instead… take my life… just let her go!
But her voice was strangled in her throat,
the words turning into hot, burning tears searing her cheeks…
And the mirrors only laughed coldly,
replaying the nightmare over and over,
no escape… no mercy.
Chaos consumes the hall…
Mirrors shatter one after another,
screams dissolve into the void,
tears mix with sweat and blood,
and fear clings to their souls like an icy, merciless hand.
Amid the running and hysteria,
Mustafa suddenly stops.
His face pale, his eyes glimmering with a strange realization,
as if he's finally understood something no one else can see.
He takes a step back, staring into the mirrors…
all the closed doors, all the faces that abandoned him…
and then it hits him:
"None of this is real… this place only feeds on our pain…"
For the first time, he breathes deeply,
his voice trembling yet fierce:
– "Listen to me! This… it's a lie! Just an illusion! If we stop believing it… it can't hurt us!"
But the screams don't stop, terror still claws at everyone's hearts.
Mary sobs desperately:
– "I can't… I can't make it stop!"
Mustafa rushes to her, grabs her hand with all his strength:
– "Trust me… focus on my voice, not the mirrors!"
Then he yells at the others:
– "Close your eyes! Don't give it your fear… that's what keeps it alive!"
A moment of struggle… sobs, trembling breaths, whispers of terror…
Then suddenly, the hall begins to tremble,
mirrors cracking louder,
the nightmare's screams fading away…
until they open their eyes to see the illusions dissolving,
melting into nothingness around them.
But…
in the far corner, one boy is still lost in his madness,
running in circles, trapped in his own torment.
Mustafa reaches out, shouting desperately:
– "Come on! It's not real! Take my hand before it's too late!"
But it's already too late.
The boy's body starts to fade,
evaporating like black smoke,
leaving behind a hollow, frozen emptiness,
the echo of his death buzzing endlessly in their ears…
They finally escaped,
but this time not by luck…
only because one of them dared to see the truth in the middle of hell.
Mustafa collapses to the floor, breathless,
tears glistening in his eyes,
not because he survived…
but because he couldn't save them all.
And then, the system's voice cuts through the silence,
cold and sharp as a knife:
– "The survivors… are those who faced their fears.
The rest… are unworthy of life."
And with that final word, the stage sealed shut.
But the pain did not.
Each one of them walked away carrying a small death inside,
a death that would never heal…
and would never fade
Even as the stage closed,
one thought echoed endlessly in Mustafa's mind:
"If only I had realized sooner…
maybe we could've all made it out alive."