Short Stories

Mirror Image

Knock.

I wake up to a knock. I look to my door to see if some one is trying to come in.

Knock.

I turn to see my window, free of anything tapping it.

Knock.

I close my eyes with a sigh. I flop out of bed, and open my eyes to face the mirror. There she is, the me with a problem. She smiles sadly, waving her hand slightly. She motions for me to get closer, and I do. I press my hand against hers as she begins to talk.

"Mother just died. Father is in the hospital. Little Gracie is down stairs crying." She lists this off very matter of factly, as if it doesn't bother her.

"Great! That means Mom is alive, Dad is home, and Grace is in her room sleeping." I smile at my mirror image. "Thanks for the update."

"No problem." She stays quiet for a long time, but then speaks up. "What's it like not being sad?"

"What do you mean? Surely you've been happy before. I mean, I've been sad, so weren't you happy then?" I ask, purely confused.

"Yes you've been sad, but you've never felt extreme pain. You only get slightly sad, so my depression simply veers off slightly, only to return an hour or two later. I have never been truly happy."

"Oh. Well, I wish I could help, but I don't know how to make myself truly miserable," I say, humoring my reflection with the thought that I would actually do something like that for her. But why would I? She's only my reflection. I don't care for her at all.

"I have an idea, if you'd like to try."

"Sure," I say. It's not like it will actually work. Her ideas never work out. They never have, they never will.

She smiles slightly at me, and wraps her fingers around my hand. She has never actually touched me, so how she got her fingers through is flabbergasting. As I'm about to let go of her hand in fear, she yanks as hard as she can, and pulls me through the mirror. I land on her cold, hard, black floor on my hands and knees. I turn to see her standing on my soft, warm, white carpet, smiling as she looks down on me. I instantly feel dread wash over me as I realize what has happened. I am no longer a happy teen with a fantastic life. I am now a depressed teen, with an abusive family and barely enough food to eat.

"Enjoy your stay," my reflection sneers. "Your beating from brother will start soon." She turns and leaves the room, leaving me cowering in fear. I turn as feet come towards my room, and someone opens my door.

"Time to apply your bruises."

 I squeal as a giant walks towards me, trying to shrink my body down. This just makes him smile.

"Gonna try to escape today? Then looks like we'll have some fun."