Shattered Glass | Teen Ink

Shattered Glass

March 4, 2014
By Kalena BRONZE, Amityville, New York
Kalena BRONZE, Amityville, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Thinking is more interesting than knowing, but less interesting than looking. -Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe


"Say it again, Claire." said the woman in blue, her brown eyes scowling at me behind the thick glass wall that separated me from humanity. "What is it you can do?"

Like the mad and deranged girl I was, I scoffed at the woman and cackled, taking a seat on the velvet chair that held the only color in my small and lifeless white cell meant to contain beast of inhumane nature. I could feel her thoughts rush through me, and like I had done to may victims, I blurted out the truth from her mind. "So hows your husband? I wonder how you have been handling his little flings with his assistant at work...oh, that's right. You haven't. Why, isn't it cruel of you to blame that poor girl. She's done nothing wrong. Neither has your husband, right? He's doing exactly what you did just a few weeks before..."

The woman had been turning red as I reached into her mind, and just as I mentioned her sex life she had thrown herself to the glass with her fist bashing against my translucent barrier. It was always comical to tease such unpredictable children, taking their life and wagging it in their face to earn that delicious anger. Their thoughts were even more delectable, coursing through my veins wit a sweet desire that left me gasping for more. I wanted more of their thoughts, more of what they think they know...

The great demon had blessed me with this mind reading gift. At first, I thought it to be a curse. After I had let it soar into the unknown, though, I had felt that lustful passion of searching their minds of the past and present. Some time had to pass before I could accept myself as a parasite, sucking the energy from my hosts for my own cruel intentions that left them heart broken and torn.

Another presence could be felt from behind the cold glass, a beacon of familiarity that had me casting a giant smile upon the clueless woman and purring, "Who's the one behind the glass now?"

Just as I had spoke the words, what I expected to arrive had come to my aid, and the entire prison shut down and faded into darkness. When the lights were flicked back on, I could feel the woman's confusion...for I was no longer behind the glass.


The author's comments:
At first I wrote it for a contest for another website, but I thought of submitting it here at a start off to whatever future is to be made with Teen Ink :)

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.