Chapter 2: Who Is That In The Mirror?

What?

What?????????

I immediately covered my mouth as if to stop any incoming sound that may break through my mouth without my consent.

The very thought sounds ridiculous at this point but the embarrassment I had faced back then is deftly folded under the pages of that time. I frantically looked at my body, wherever the eyes could reach. As far as I was concerned I was the "brother" of the sister. And indeed, I was the brother of the sister, but somehow my voice was a few pitches too high for a boy past his puberty.

Just what the-

First I died, and then transmigrated, that too in the body of a boy who has the voice like that of a girl? And he has a sister whose name's Stella? And the girlish voice is like that of Stella?

Please God give me a break! Were you too bored of your monotonous immortal life that you are playing with me now?

Calm down. Calm down.

IN.... OUT...…

It is not the fault of God. It is Karma.

But what sort of Karma is this? This is a joke! A very hideous and ridiculous joke!

Calm down, calm down.

IN...….OUT...….

Whatever was to happen have happened and no one can change the past.

Whatever it was; whatever it wasn't. Whosoever's fault is was, whosoever's it wasn't, in the end I have to reap the crop I didn't know when I had sown. But then, that is probably how it is: the eye always comments the moon, despite of being exposed to its one side only. How can I ever see the whole picture?

"Stella dear, why aren't you answering?"

But at this point I wished this picture didn't exist at all.

"Hey the latch is not fastened it is just the chain lock", said the one called Shiru.

"Oops! You are right! Maybe she just wants us to enter!"

No! I absolutely do not!

I pushed the door from inside to prevent them from entering. This is the very chain lock which won't open for heaven's sake but, I knew for sure, that it would let them pass without any hindrance at all.

Dum Dum

"Stella? What's up? Are you upset because I came too early? Please forgive me this time!"

My brain was working at the speed of 1024 mbph to try and think of a way to prevent them from entering; because of course, there was no Stella "darling". There was only this large "darling" with the voice of a girl!

I had no choice but to upset the love of my sister, no Aunt, no...… whoever!

"Yes", I shouted in a shrill voice and faked a runny nose. I don't even remember ever getting a runny nose in my previous life.

"I am very upset"

Sniffle

I knew very well how my trembling (from fear) voice must sound so full of fake (real) despair.

"I am sorry", he said with guilt dripping off his words.

I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry.

I repeated in a constant speed in my mind just like a mantra.

"What sorry? Don't come to see me ever again!", said I.

And there goes the love life of my (probably) aunt turned sister. A shroud of eerie silence befell us. The sun sat behind the horizon and twilight came. A fear that he will ask again to come in since its twilight, haunted me worst than any horror story.

"Alright"

"What?"

Yes, what?

"I said alright", he told to his friend who was as baffled as me.

"But only until you calm down, just come whenever you are ready. I will be waiting"

With those words he left

Left

Oh Yes! He left!

But wait… he is the only one I have come to know in my short time here. Wouldn't it have been beneficial to curry favor with him!

Only if my voice hadn't betrayed me.

And for the first time in my twenty five years of life, Aunt Stella's voice became a burden on my head which ruined my plans before I could even make them!

Will that even be ruining though?

Whatever I need to get a good sleep, before I can face it! Dear bed I am coming!

(A\N:- A teetotaler's way of forgetting reality and relax: 20h Sleep!)

The sound of ruffling and soft footsteps was heard in the room of the humble abode of Stella. The lantern was ignited at the unholy hours of bats and owls. Among those sounds, an owl of human races of flapping its wing.

Yes, you guessed it correct: that owl was me.

I have been a night owl since I was thrown into the jail due to some unforeseeable events. Since those times I have built a habit of sleeping in segments like a cat. I have never slept more than three hours at a time.

After waking up, I searched the house, which was completely distorted due to the earlier episode, and looked out for more evidence to back up my theory. As I had suspected there was no electronic device - which is common in a poor household – and there was no calendar above the date of 1985. During my hunt for some evidence I found a treasure worth turning the world upside down for.

A Diary.

The diary belonged to the one named "Stella Weizscar"

That was indeed the full name of my aunt. Despite of a wish to uphold my ingrained inculcations and not to interfere with my aunt's personal space, a dire need to know about my current circumstances weighed much heavier. At last I gave up and begun to read my aunt's diary.

The moon hung high in the sky when I finally finished reading the diary. The dim light of the lantern was like a small sun blazing in the darkness of my – aunt Stella's - room. I leaned back in my chair and my eyes focused on the rows of cracks which adored the walls of this ancient abode. It made a dendritic pattern far more intricate and precise than the rivers of northern plains.

My pupils dropped down and focused on the diary. There was something very odd. The diary contained the record of the life of Aunt Stella, but not once did it mention any "brother". Other than rabbits, forests, work and church only the name of her lover was ebbed in the pages of her diary. In the time that I lived with my aunt, she told me about many things about her early life and her teenage days. I knew how much she adored the rabbits who resided in the forest. Whenever she went to the forest to collect firewood she would feed the rabbits she would found on the way back. She told me how far she had to travel to reach the nearest church. In fact, she even told me about her childhood sweetheart with whom she grew distant with the passage of time. But they both were like the faithful swans, not quite dying for each other but remained untouched by anyone else.

Now the weird part, that is the "brother" that I had never heard about before remained unmentioned in the diary as well. I wondered if they didn't get along. It was in fact quite common in the families which have a prodigal heavy drunkard who relied on his wife or sister for money.

But then why would that fish bother with me at all?

That fish – I mean Sukshma – treated me with sincere respect. As if I was his only silver lining and am the only one who can help him. But other than being a witness to their court marriage what else can I help him with?

I made a beeline to the cupboard and touched its woody handle. I pulled it to open it and to my surprise, it did open. My clothes were carefully folded into piles and kept separately in the cupboard. I searched around and found a key wrapped in one of my trousers. The key belonged to a drawer in the cupboard itself which was probably the only thing which was locked in the whole house and probably the only thing which was the easiest to open for me. The drawer, as one would suspect, contained a few assets such as a pair of gold earrings and documents of the house.

But isn't quite unsafe to keep the key in "my" clothes?

This cleared my one doubt.

They were on good terms.

But this also tells one more thing: they both are really bad at hiding things.

Now, why won't Aunt Stella mention her mysterious brother or his peculiar powers in the diary?

I could conclude only one thing from the given the facts, which was that she wished to hide her brother and his little secret. Therefore she didn't mention him in the diary lest it catches the eye of someone it should not.

I got up from where I was sitting and moved around the room with the lantern for stretching my overstrained legs. I went near the oval shaped piece of glass which was painted on one side and hung with the non reflecting side facing the wall.

Why I can't simply call it a mirror was because it lacked the very essence of a typical readymade mirror. For once the thought of a little Aunt Stella crouching on ground and making a mirror crossed my mind. I stepped towards the mirror and observed the rough-edged piece of glass. In fact I could clearly see a young girl staring back at me with a fond look in her eyes, as if she is smiling at me through the gaps of time. I wonder if young Aunt Stella looked like this figment of my imagination.

Why is she not home yet?

My eyes wandered into the empty space as I thought about the whereabouts of my missing Aunt Stella.

I kept the lantern on the dressing table on which lied the handmade mirror. I turned around to leave for my study place but not even a few seconds later, my legs stiffened where they stood. I slowly turned my head to look back at the mirror. My eyes widened with horror and a shrilly screamed passed by my vocal cords without my consent.

"Who is that in the mirror?"