I wrote this in ten minutes. I have no idea where it came from.

I know that seeing people who aren’t there in the mirror is normal, but it still scares me! All the the faces, talking away at me. Katie says that everybody seems them when they get older, and just to ignore them. But how am I supposed to ignore them when they’re everywhere? It started with just mirrors, and then glass, polished metal, and now any reflective surface, full of people who aren’t real, chattering urgently. Sometimes when it’s really quiet, I think I can hear them. But I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, and besides everyone one knows that they can’t actually talk, the faces are just a trick of your eyes. So I bought a music player, and I make sure it’s never really quiet. I mean, sure they don’t talk for real, and there’s nothing to be scared of, but I just don’t like it, okay? 

Ulg, I’ve started to see them on the inside of my glasses now if I’m not careful, all worried and concerned. Why are they worried? Mom’s ignore her, and Dad’s are angry. Katie says that hers are all bored all the time, so why are mine worried? What’s wrong with me?

I don’t think I should talk to Katie about the faces any more. She says it’s fine if I’m scared, but we’re grown-ups now, and grown-ups don’t talk about childhood fears. She’s right, of course. I’m just going to make extra sure I have my music player with me all the time, and I’m going to walk around with my eyes half closed. I can’t see them when it’s dark!

I’m alone in the house, and my music player died. Why did it die? It had a full battery yesterday! Stupid Samuel had to use it when I was at work and now I can’t- I’m boiling water to make noise. Popcorn’s noisy too. I am a grown-up, I’m gonna be fine.

The power’s gone out, and it’s so quiet. At least it’s so dark I can’t see reflections. It’s so quiet. I can hear my footsteps. Oh, only I’m sitting still. Voices, talking to me all the time, I don’t want to hear. What? Why? I don’t want to look behind me-

I burnt down the house, but I don’t care. The shadow went with it, stabbed through with the big, shiny metal knife my Dad keeps by the oven. I never asked him why, maybe I should when he gets back. And I’m going to keep my own mirror to watch the faces with. Katie’s right, there’s nothing to be scared of. So long as I pay attention to them, and stay out of the dark.

6 thoughts on “Mirrors

  1. That is lovely. I love you. For some reason this REALLY reminded me of The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman….great short story, btw, you should read it if you haven’t.
    But yeah, this is fantastic. *is in awe*
    Oh wait…..

  2. Heheh. *shy* I love you too. *is reaffirmed in her existence as a worthwhile human being*

    And I have read The Yellow Wallpaper, in an airport, actually. It is creepy and lovely, I agree.

    You like it, really? *is very happeh now*

    And I’d put it on facebook, but people might think I’m insane. Oh wait…

  3. It reminds me more of Human Nature/Family of Blood, but yeah.

    *haz just reread this* I love the gradual psychological turning of the narrator (well, not THAT gradual since this is pretty short, but you know what I meaN!!!) from slightly paranoid to extremely…..whatever.
    Not my best sentence ever.

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