The Mirror

Through the looking glass

Photo by Vinicius "amnx" Amano on Unsplash

I got it from my aunt.

It was old and ugly.

It had been in the family a long time. From what I understand no one wanted to keep the thing around too long.

I couldn’t blame them.

It gave me the creeps.

The mirror was about two feet wide and three feet long. It was the frame that got me though. It was this old dark wood carved into strange little figures.

I didn’t want the thing but the Midwest in me wouldn’t allow me to seem impolite.

I tried it next to the TV. There were people over. It gave them all the willies.

I was checking my hair when I noticed my reflection.

It didn’t match.

My counterpart in the mirror was doing everything I was doing except he was glaring at me.

I told everyone to look but no one else’s reflection did it. They thought I was just teasing.

Eventually I just agreed.

Except the next night it happened again.

It kept getting worse.

Some nights his face would twist into a snarl.

Sometimes he wouldn’t move at all.

I was going to take the mirror down but I was afraid to touch the thing.

Instead, I did everything I could to make sure I didn’t look at the thing,

One day I had my girlfriend over and had her look. Her reflection was fine.

I raised my hand and the mirror did too. I swallowed and walked in front of it.

And my reflection acted totally normally.

“See,” she said, “Everything’s fine.”

I relaxed a little.

After she left I decided to face my fears and look one last time.

Except, the mirror was empty.

Then I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.

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