There's something going on with mirrors. Something's there just before I look in them, but I never catch it.
There's something going on with mirrors. Something's there just before I look in them, but I never catch it.
My reflection isn't quite right either. Slightly different when I stare at it, like it can't maintain composure over time. I think it's changing when I look away, just brief catches at times, nothing I can really pin down.
It always looked uneasy looking back at me, even if it did not dawn any abnormal expression. Still, those times I'd catch my own reflection, or the quick moments washing my hands every day, all carried some form of tiny dread. Then one day it came to a head. We were at a party, my friends and I. It was the usual, loud music and social games. After a few hours we had all decided that this was a night to remember before we forget. We headed into the bathroom to take a group photo.
When we had all loaded in to face the mirror every single one of our reflections had a horrified face, like they had just seen the most terrifying thing of their entire life. I glanced at my friends, their smiles were uncanny and stretched much too long. Their teeth were like spear heads in their mouths. My own mouth had an insatiable urge, I grinned too, and revealed my own set of weapons. I always knew I was on the wrong side of the mirror.
I finally found it. I have a scar on my right cheek, and I noticed it was on the wrong side. I gasped - and when I blinked, it was back on the right side.
I think I saw my reflection smirk.
Whatever you do, remember never to call out for anything in front of a mirror. I had this friend in 7th grade in my group. We used to watch scary movies and read horror comics to pass the time. He loved the story of Bloody Mary and one time, during a night out to win a bet (we were bored), he stayed for a whole hour in front of his bathroom mirror chanting 'BM' like a broken record. Anyway, some time later during a casual conversation he confessed to me that after growing bored of the whole BM thing he had started calling out for other stuff in front of the mirror, like the devil, aliens, IT, and so on. The reason why I remember all of this so clearly is that three years after moving on with my parents to a different state, I learned that he was institutionalized in a clinic. Apparently, one day when his parents were out for work, he destroyed all the mirrors in his house and used a piece of glass to blind himself.