The Boy In The Mirror

CHAPTER 1

The last of a packed box is placed onto the wooden floor of a soon to be fully furnished bedroom. There's a sigh given, followed by the small crack of a spine as it straightens back up from heavy lifting throughout the day.

A glance is given around the room. It's a room like any other, the walls white, the floor hardwood and two big windows. The only thing in it that seemed anything of the more 'unusual' was a giant closet mirror that took up nearly two-thirds of the wall it was on.

"Craig? Are you finished moving your stuff into your room?"

Attention from the mirror is broken at the sound of a voice. My mother's voice.

"Yeah!" I shout back.

"Can you come and help with the other stuff then?"

"Coming," I sigh and glance once more at the closet mirror before heading out of my room and downstairs. When I reach down stairs, I spot my mother carrying two boxes into the kitchen. She notices me after setting them down on the kitchen's countertop.

"Can you go and help your father move the couch into the living room?" she asks, opening up one of the boxes.

"Why didn't we get movers to help again?" I frown.

"Because. You know your father is very particular about how to do things," she replies, "and he didn't want strangers touching our belongings. Now go and help him," she adds and waves me off.

I roll my eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Right," I say, turning away and heading towards the front door.

"Thank you dear," she singsongs.

Chilled air greets me as I exit through the front door. I find my father by a big white rental moving truck parked in front of the house and moving some smaller boxes out of it. As I walk over to him, he notices me.

"Ah, Craig, there you are!" he says, and goes to stand behind the side of the blue couch. "Here, help me with this would you?" and he motions for me to stand in front of the other side of it. So I walk up the truck's ramp and do. "Alright, now on the count of three lift it up," I hunch over and grab the bottom of it. "Okay. One. Two. Three!" he grunts, lifting the couch.

We lift it up and I slowly back my way down the ramp and out of the truck, then we make our way to the front door, up the steps and into the living room where we set it down. I sit on the couch's arm to relax a bit, but as soon as I do my father speaks up.

"Alright, now come and help me with the china cabinet next."

I groan, get back up to my feet and get to work with helping to finish moving the rest of the stuff into our new home.

...

Later, as evening falls and the pink and yellow hues start to spread across the sky, we finally come to a finish.

I collapse onto the couch with a tired sigh.

"Craig?" my mother asks.

"Yeah?"

"Your father and I need to go out and return the rental truck, and then get some groceries for dinner and the week. We'll be back a little later, can you watch over your sister while we're gone?" she asks.

"Sure," I reply.

"And don't open the door for anyone while we're gone," She adds.

"Yeah, yeah," I wave off and a few seconds later the front door closes.

Glancing around the now boxed filled living room, sarcasm fills my mind on how fun it will be to unpack it all later. A sigh escapes me for the umpteenth time today and I sit up. My mother's words playback in my head about my younger sibling, who I hadn't actually seen much of today. At least, aside from the long car ride here and moving some of her things into her new room, I really hadn't seen much of that small usual annoyance throughout the day.

Heading up the stairs, I make my way to her room and open the door. I find her lying on her back, with her hair spread out around her and holding up a small handheld game in her hands. The faint sound of music coming from it as she plays.

"Yes?" she asks, not looking away from it.

"Did you just stay in your room all day doing nothing?" I deadpan.

"What? No. I leveled up from 6 to 20 on this game, so that's something," I look at her unamused, " Besides, I told mom that I wasn't feeling very well and that I think I may be sick or something and she told dad," she says, still never taking her eyes off the game's screen.

"You look just fine to me," I say, crossing my arms and leaning on the door frame.

She puts a closed hand to her mouth and lets out one of the fakest coughs I have ever heard.

"There, you see? I'm sick."

"So I see," I reply apathetically, "Anyways, mom and dad went out to return the rental truck and get some groceries, they'll be back later," I push off the doorframe then and straighten up, "and mom told me to watch over you while they were gone," I add and head off.

"You're doing a great job at that so far," she calls out sarcastically.

I make my way to my room, flick the overhead light on and look around it. There was a bed in it now, bare with no sheets, but at least I had something to sleep on. The boxes are all pushed to the side, by my dresser that has some more boxes on top of it, along with a small lamp. The windows still lacked curtains though, so anyone was free to peer in at me should they choose to. But I pay it no mind for now and head over to the stack of boxes, searching through them until I find one marked as 'Bed Sheets'. I pull it out, tear the sealed tape off and take out some of the sheets.

After setting up my bed, I turn the small lamp on and flick the overhead one off. I debate whether or not to unpack more, but end up opting to lie down instead. Long stretched shadows cover the walls from where the boxes all huddled around the lamp, and the image of them dancing around it muses my mind for a moment before I turn to my side.

My gaze falls onto my reflection in the closet mirror for a brief second, before it drifts to other things being reflected in it. The shadows in it seem almost ominous, as if they could be keeping something hidden in them from behind me. My gaze falls back onto myself and a strange sense of unease seeps in. Something about staring at my own reflection in this lightning unnerves me so much that I quickly find myself turning over and facing away from it. Which is dumb, because I had seen myself many times before in many other mirrors, but for some reason, it unnerved me to look at it here, and I didn't know why.

I preoccupy my thoughts elsewhere so as to not think of it anymore. Thoughts about having to go to a new school and starting all over again, in this middle of nowhere town. At that, I frown. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to think of other things after all. There's a seed of anger that tugs at the back of my mind, but I close my eyes and try to ignore it.

Eventually, all thoughts and feelings fade from my mind as I drift off into sleep.

...

The room is quiet, said for Craig's deep sleep breathing. There's a small click and the lamp turns off. Moonlight floods in from the windows, hitting the closet mirror. And all remains silent once again.