Mirrored Mirage

By Sophia Blair

A teenage girl begins her first relationship with an older boy, believing it to be the best thing to ever happen to her. But as time goes on, she finds herself taken for granted by him and soon she descends into an alternate reality where she starts to lose herself. Daydreams and nightmares, instead of pulling her away from what's real, show her the truth of what's happening, and what she's lost. In the dream world that appears behind the mirror in her bedroom, she reconnects with the child she once was, and her former self, who help her to face the truth and rediscover how to live her own life. Slowly, she learns how to put the shattered pieces of herself back together, and emerges from the darkest waters, into the sun once again. She isn’t lost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Propertius Press
• Release date: Aug 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005645588

Sophia Blair

Sophia Blair wrote her first book, Mirrored Mirage, when even she couldn’t tell if she was real, or a mirage. She always had a passion for writing as well as turning her emotions and experiences into poems. She never thought one day they would become so heavy she would need a book to carry them. With this book she ends the chapter of her past, and flips the pages to a new one, with no bookmarks in it yet. She hopes to keep writing and to inspire those like her who may struggle with similar issues, because nobody should have to feel as though they are lost, or alone.

Book preview

Mirrored Mirage

Sophia Blair

PROPERTIUS PRESS

MIRRORED MIRAGE.

All text copyright (c) 2022 by Sophia Blair. Graphics and design copyright Propertius Press. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, electronic, mechanical photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission of the copyright owners.

Front cover based on photos by Sophia Blair with additional images by Jilbert Ebrahimi and Ivan Vranic. Interior illustrations based on photographs by Sophia Blair. Author Photo by Sophia Blair. Title page and chapter headings set in Georgia, base text Liberation Sans. Cover and Interior Design by Propertius Press.

This book is a work of fiction. As in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on experience; however, all names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 9781005645588

Propertius Press

Lynchburg, Virginia

MIRRORED MIRAGE is available as an ebook and in paperback wherever books are sold.

Contents

Lost

Found

Acknowledgments

About the Author

~

At a time when I believed I could never write again,

I dedicate this book to my Mimi, who never stopped

inspiring me to make art

with my words.

~

"You’re mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are."

― Lewis Carroll

The world from a child’s eyes is art and fairy tales, or something like that. It's almost like once upon a time was written across the sky in glitter and pixie dust.

Life was vibrant and lively, the feeling of your small toes digging into the ground beneath you was unbelievable, and the sun beating down on your face was comforting. those yellow rays of light left streaks of pink covering your tiny body, that would’ve surely had your mother looking down on you like you’ve just committed a crime.

Nonetheless you’ve got the point, it’s as if every day is a dream.

You don’t remember the bad parts, falling and scraping your knee, the yelling after that glass bottle is thrown out the window, or wiping your mother’s tears, I don't think you even remember your father most days.

The mind works funny like that, an endless loop of thought, an endless vision of the unknown, and a small child waiting somewhere in the memories, for you to make them proud.

But me? I don't think my life looks much like a work of art.

It’s not a bad life, it’s actually very lovely. I'm sure many people would wish for my life, but it’s not my life I'm living, no—I believe I've left a long time ago.

I'm writing this from my mind, a little corner in my skull with a window, a lamp, and a tall glass of nostalgia. I wonder most days how I got myself trapped here—it’s as if I'm waiting for a white rabbit with a clock to come looking for me, or a handsome prince to take my hand and dance me out of this hell, but those are