The Mask: Part Three

The walk home felt long. My steps pounded into the pavement at a rhythmic thud as  the mask rubbed against my hips. I threw my hood on and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

I knew already the burden of what I was carrying despite what I’ve said since. Secrets weigh heavy on the soul. When you know you’ve done something you shouldn’t, but no one will ever know, did it still happen? 

I reached home just as it began to get dark. I fluttered up the steps towards the porch light above the door. Inside it was dark still, my mother would not be home for several hours. I crossed the small living room and headed straight to the hallway that led to my bedroom. 

I switched on the lamp at my cluttered desk. Quickly, I stacked the stray notebooks pages onto one another and moved them to the side. I took the mask from the waistband and laid it flat on the desk. It stared at me from the empty black pits. Flipping it over, I tried to see through the mask from behind, but it was smooth on the back as if there weren’t any eye or mouth holes at all. This wasn’t possible. I felt my heart pump and my breath become shallow. 

Turning the mask around, I shoved my thumbs into the black holes. They went right through, but not to the other side. The sensation of nothingness on the tips of my thumbs was unbearable. Not even able to manage a shriek, I flung the mask to the floor. 

Slowly I backed up, not removing my gaze from those bottomless black holes. I couldn’t even if I wanted to; I was captive. Perhaps the curse begun then, but I know that’s not true. 

I stood there for hours I think. I couldn’t form a single complete thought. The mask called to me and I wanted to understand. I would like to believe that I did not have a choice. That, however, will never be certain because after an unknown amount of time I got down on one knee and peeled the mask from the floor. 

A tall and narrow mirror leaned against the wall next to my bedroom closet. I moved my heavy legs to stand in front of it drunkenly. They say power intoxicates. 

I gazed directly into my brown eyes as I lifted the mask up to my face. As I smoothed it over, it melted into my skin and I could no longer see. A panic rushed into my chest. I couldn’t breathe either. It suctioned on to me and was impossible to grip. I was a prison in my own head, my breath unable to escape. I fell to my knees and tried to rip at my skin with my fingernails. My heart pounded and pounded until I lost the ability to struggle and collapsed to the floor. 

The next morning I finally woke up.