As she approached, it watched her.

She walked forward slowly, taking caution with each step, wary of the motionless gaze of the creature; its chest rising and falling with controlled power. She could hear the low rasp of its breathing, the clinking of its armour as the plates slid over one another as it exhaled deeply.

She carefully measured the distance between where the soldier stood and the far edge of the tunnel wall. She hoped that if she walked with a work-minded attention, she would pass without notice. The distance felt excuse enough; perhaps he wasn't waiting for her…

Taking an anxious breath, she calmed herself. She lowered her head, eyes watching the ground before her intently; she could see the mouth of the tunnel as it turned away from her in the horizon of her vision.

She took another step forward.

The creature stirred beneath the armour and she held her breath, closing her eyes.
She waited, but nothing happened. Opening her eyes, she looked to the soldier and its visor glinted with an eerie light. Another blink and the being had disappeared.

In her panic, the crate dropped from Lia's hands, disappearing into nothing as well. She turned around abruptly and found herself in front of a large mirror, seemingly to have appeared out of nowhere. Her breathing began to fall more heavily as she palmed at the glass, her reflection mimicking her actions with the same fear in its motions that she felt scourge deep with inside her. She stared into the same scared grey eyes as her own and noticed the momentary flash of a figure moving in the background.

She turned again, flicking her blade out in surmounted terror.

Lia watched the opposite entrance of the subway tunnel, scanning the tracks, watching the sides of the tunnels, the emergency exits flickering in her peripherals, listening for the muffled sound of a breath or the faintest hint of a footstep.

All that she heard was the small undertone of the breeze moving through the dank air.

Clenching her fists, she called out.
"I know you're there Other!"

Her voice reverberated off the concrete hollow of the tunnel, calling again and again. But she heard no answer.

"I'm right here." Her challenge spoke with a faltering voice.

But silence followed her still.

Confused and enraged by the fear that flooded her system, she cried out.
"Come and get me you coward!"

She heard a low growl behind her.
She spun around and took a step back; her eyes darting all about her, her heart pounding hard against her chest.

Her reflection warned her that she had heard it, but as she looked deeper, she saw the smirk that ran across the lady's face. There was something terribly wrong.

With a huge crash, the soldier bound through the glass of the mirror, sending glass shattering into the air, falling to the ground; her reflection caught in the shards as they glinted from the weak light.

Frozen, Lia could only watch as she was grabbed by the neck and thrust against the tunnel wall. Air rushed out of her lungs and she pulled on the Other's arm as its grip threatened to choke her if she didn't struggle against the weight of gravity pulling her down.

"Isn't it funny?"A familiar voice taunted her from across the tunnel.

Lia stared as the words seemed to trigger something within the arm of the creature that made the force in it fall limp, dropping her to the ground. It then wrenched the helmet off its head, causing the creature to suddenly explode, collapsing into a pile of sand.

She scrambled backwards on the ground, pushing her back as far against the wall as possible, trying to escape the insanity that seemed to have engulfed her surroundings.

She couldn't make sense of what was happening and it frightened her dearly. Her stomach dropped with a nauseating force as she released that the figure that had spoken to her, and was now approaching her with smug amusement, was herself.

"Oh no way." Lia spoke aloud, terrified.

The doppelganger looked at her with eyes that grasped violently at her soul.
"Yes way."

She sat before Lia, crossing her legs, staring at her with a callous grin on her face. Lia could only stare back in disbelief.

"Look at you, you're all rigid, is it something I did?" the girl mocked her. Lia momentarily lost her sense to speak.

"Trippy isn't it? Did you like the game? I set this all up you know? Even made that Other myself, split image right? But of course, I guess you're not much of a fan of the idea."

Lia stared in bewilderment as she watched herself flick a speck of mirror from her t-shirt.

"Wh-wh- what are you?" Lia stammered.

"I'm ya-ya- you." The twin leered.

"That can't be right."Lia shook her head, trying to shake away the madness.

"Of course it's right. I'm a reflection of you! I'm your fear, I'm your hatred, I'm your sorrow.  I'm that guilty feeling in your stomach, that makes you curl up at night, wishing things could have been different. I'm everything you despise about yourself and what's happened to you and everyone you've ever loved.

The twin gawked with mad eyes as she enunciated each word.
"I own you."

The twin's eyes met Lia's, and as she stood, Lia felt her body unwilling compelled to stand as well.
"But of course, you only have yourself to blame for that, don't you?"

The twin laughed at a joke it seemed only she knew and watched Lia's reaction as from the sand three shapes appeared. As Lia watched in awe of what was happening, the shapes began to take form, growing into human forms and she trembled in horror as they became her mother and her father and her brother.

"Remember them?" the twin smiled snidely.

Lia's eyes filled with sadness as she looked upon the faces of her family. Her heart tremored with grief.

"I do." Lia switched her gaze edgily back to the twin as it spoke these words.

"I seem to remember," it said, "a fourth to this family, a girl that they loved and cherished deeply, so deeply in fact, that they died for her, even though she didn't deserve it."

Tears began to fall slowly from the corners of Lia's eyes as she remembered their voices, their names, their laughter.

"Your dad was first wasn't he, big old brave dad. Then your mum but of course, she'd do anything for you. Then last but not least, deary brother Simon, what a shame he was so stupid not to run."

"Don't you dare mock my family!" Lia snapped and attempted to attack the twin. But she caught Lia's fist in her own grip and glared at her with malice, forcing Lia to stop in her tracks.

"He didn't have to die, did he? But you let him."
"No I didn't." Lia tried to pull away.

"Just like you let all of them die."
"Stop lying!" Lia struggled with even greater ferocity, but it was no use.

She watched helplessly as the images of her family started to weep, they began to look sadder and hurting and angry, angry at her.

"With one of these." The twin threw her back and revealed a small metal ball in her hand, exactly like those Lia had looked at earlier.

Lia couldn't answer back anymore; her mind had fallen cold.

The twin just looked back at her with dispassionate eyes.

"Curiosity kills Lia…" the twin spoke with bleak words and pressed the indents of the ball.
An ear-splitting sound erupted from the ball and Lia was forced to her knees, clutching her ears as it bored into her skull. All the while, the twin stood unaffected, kneeling to whisper in her ear.

"You know what? You spend all this time trying to make this pathetic life of yours mean something and for what?"

The sound was deafening, but Lia could still here the twin's words.
"Nothing. You want to hear what I think? I think you deserve everything you've ever got in return for it."

Lia gritted her teeth and glowered at her twin. The double just smiled even more.

"I don't care how sorry you are. That little boy of yours won't last forever, he'll probably end up dead like the rest of them and it'll be you're fault all over again. Because the truth is Lia, people like you? Don't get second chances. They just end up hurting the people they love over and over and over again."

Lia's eyes opened wide and a flurry of images flooded her mind, memories of crying and of calling. Of running, someone was calling her name, she was breathless, she had to escape. Fear and exhaustion, then a sudden piercing pain coursed through her shoulder. She screamed.
*

Thrusting her eyes open, Lia jumped where she lay as she awoke from the nightmare that had disturbed her sleep. Looking around the small room, she ran to the sink and threw up, clutching the brim as her body convulsed. She turned on the tap and let the water run as she brought the liquid to her face wiping the sweat from her skin and leaned against the ledges of the sink, her hands trembling.

She watched herself in the reflection of the cracks that ran through the small half mirror. Even in the dark, she was pale and breathing quickly, her whole body shivering.

She ran a wet hand through her damp hair; she had been sweating, though it was cold night. Her ears were ringing.

Her feet stumbled across the old timber flooring and she collapsed onto the pile of rugs and pillows in the corner by the window that she had used to construct a make-shift bed for herself. She lay there, holding her knees tightly drawn to her chest.

She was safe. She was safe. It wasn't real. She was here, she was alive. She was safe.

These words chanted through her mind until her breathing slowed and the pain subsided in her shoulder. Her thoughts remained quiet and she liked them that way.

She stared for a while at the far wall, tracing the lines of the red brick with her eyes, through the cracks and over the sides of each individual block. The distraction seemed to calm her and she was able to sit up and lean against the back wall without feeling sick again. She closed her eyes and looked for any remnants of the dream.

She could never remember why she would wake up so terrified and so sad and so angry. The emotions completely threw her; she couldn't understand what it was she might be dreaming that disturbed her like this.

She tried to think back, but all that seemed to come back was the ringing in her ears and a raw feeling of guilt. She opened her eyes and waited for it to subside again.

She had a headache.

Getting up, she threw a blanket over her and walked to the only other room of the dilapidated apartment. There was a couch in the centre, and a table to the right, with some tools and a bag sprawled across it and a couple of chairs. On the other side, a small unkempt kitchen area; some of the doors were hanging off of one hinge, the rest didn't have any doors. There was an empty can of spaghetti on the counter, a half eaten loaf of bread on the far side and some magazines. A tiny bathroom behind the door on the same wall.

She walked to the edge of the couch and listened to the slow breaths that emanated quietly from a lump at the end furthest to her. The little boy was immersed in blankets, his face small and half buried in the mound. She walked to where he lay and brushed the tufts of his dark hair back, kissing his forehead.

He stirred lightly but stayed asleep, sighing deeply. She let him be; better one of them gets a good night's sleep.

She walked to the side of the room, near the table and walked up the flight of stairs situated to spiral up to the roof, careful not to let them creak. Near the top, she opened the hatchway to the roof of the building and walked outside.

The air was still and clean, though the cold bit at her cheeks. She pulled the blanket closer and went to stand at the ledge of the building. Sitting down, she let her legs hang over, the crook of her knees catching the rise of the small ridge to hold her steady. She slouched forward, holding the blanket around her shoulders and stared out at the city.

She could see quite far out from where she was, atop this nearly vacant building. The streets were bare. She was faintly aware of other people that lived on this street. Two families' three buildings down from her and an old couple in the building across, one to the right of her.

The sky crawled with dark clouds with patches of open blackness; the stars were still out and the moon shone with a serene glow in the sky.

She listened to the sounds of the night and thought that she could see the flicker of firelight coming from a turn off down the long main road of the city streets. She figured the street children had found somewhere to hole up for the night and had probably started a campfire.

They liked to travel together; there was usually at least seven in a group. They tended to range anywhere from four years old, to seventeen, thick as thieves their loyalties to one another were, but a large group was easy prey, especially children. They moved constantly and carried their own designs of weapons; the most creative she had ever seen being a dual bladed knife, that, when held horizontal, doubled as a slingshot, and when broken in half, a flail.

She thought the city looked a bit better at night, if a little dreary. The darkness seemed to overshadow the rundown buildings, with their failing structures and the blast craters that tore through the roads. Even the cars, upturned and decimated, or the random scatterings of sandbag barriers and abandoned rifles, seemed to disappear beneath the blanket of the blackness. It almost felt normal again.

Lia rubbed her eyes, tiredly. She got annoyed whenever she caught herself moping. It was stupid; there wasn't a need to dwell and she should stop acting like a little kid. She was seventeen but she knew that she better grow up fast before this place decided to get the better of her.

The way things were now wasn't so bad; at least they were safe. At least they weren't alone and they had a place to stay and she was accustomed to everything going on around her. Life was stable.

Leaning back, Lia lay down and looked up at the clouds; focusing on the stars that appeared and disappeared and then reappeared. This way, things felt simpler. Stars looked beautiful and they would always look beautiful, whether she or anyone else was here to appreciate them or not. She tried to make shapes out of them, but because of the dim city lighting, she found that there were too many of them to even attempt a fish or a spoon or some random guy wearing a hat.

She laughed. Her frustration was simple. She liked simple. She liked "every-day".

Rolling onto her stomach, Lia pushed herself back onto her feet. She thought she could hear a dog barking somewhere off in the distance, but she wasn't sure. She knew he wanted one, but it was hard to look after an animal, let alone themselves. Besides, most of the dogs running around nowadays were wild; they liked it better being by themselves, and it was cruel to get in the way of that.

She walked back to the hatchway; the handle was icy and she had to turn it with the blanket encompassing her hands.

They had their own problems to deal with anyways. She had to collect extra blankets because the weather seemed to be playing up, and none of the buildings had working heating. Even worse, they had another problem, one that was obviously bothering every face and mind that she passed.

Lia pulled the door open, slowly so the groaning of the hinges wouldn't echo.

Patterns were emerging.

No act is ever random.