mirror :: malum

owt

michael stood, paralysed in his space as he stared into the mirror in front of him. he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. he was too afraid to breathe in fear that it would disturb anything.

his eyes flickered from the mirror to the floor in front of it but he seemed to only see it in the mirror, as if it was trapped.

there, curled in a ball was the slight translucent shape of a small, thin child. michael couldn't explain how he was there, but he was.

he was crying, his head in his hands. michael tried to stay quiet, his chest rising and falling as a small gasp left his lips, which seemed to startle the boy who looked up at him with scared eyes.

only then could michael see a bruise around his neck, almost like finger marks. he had no idea what had happened to him, but he didn't feel afraid of him. he was scared, of course, that wasn't going to change, but not of the boy for some reason.

his ginger hair was in a curly mess on his head, his blue eyes wide and full of tears. his cheeks were freckly and flushed, as if he had been crying for a while. who was this boy and why was he in his room, or rather trapped in the mirror.

he wore gray, dirty clothes with holes in. they looked rather old and very torn. his hair was a scruffy mess on his head and his skin was gray with dirt and dust. he looked small too, as if he hadn't eaten in a while. maybe he hadn't. he reminded michael of poor, beggar children in old fashioned movies like oliver twist, just a lot more accurate.

"who are yo-" and before michael could finish the question, the boy vanished into thin air. he was half expecting a poof of smoke to appear, but it didn't. of course it didn't.

he sighed in relief, slowly making his way to the mirror. his hands still shook beside him and he hadn't noticed he was sweating until a small bead of sweat tickled his clammy back.

he touched the ice cold glass and dragged his finger across. what did he just witness. was it sleep deprivation. no it couldn't be. visions from sleep deprivation don't come after just 24 hours, so what the hell was that.

michael tried to rationalise it the best he could. it could have been a smudge, or his mind playing tricks, or maybe- maybe- nothing. there was nothing else it could have been. of course it wasn't a real boy, that would be insane! it was definitely not a real boy.

the rest of the day consisted of him going almost crazy with what he could have saw, repeating everything in his head until he exhausted every possibility, however coming up with absolutely nothing in the process. there was no explanation and michael really wanted to believe it was just his imagination, however something was telling him it was much, much more.

well that was until his head hit his pillow that night. it felt like a cloud against his heavy head as he found himself falling into a deep slumber, drifting deeper and deeper until everything went black.

[trigger warning: violence]

Michael looked around with an sharp gasp, clutching at his body as he looked down. didn't he just fall asleep?

wait a minute. where was he?

he saw dark gray stone walls with no signs of windows, the cold radiating from all sides hugging his body. it was pretty dark in the room, except for a dimly lit light dangling and swinging ever so slightly. it flickered every so often, creating an ominous flicking glow that loomed down on anything under.

his eyes caught a chair in the middle of the room, and a mirror in front of it. it looked almost like the one michael had, except more newer looking. could it be? the gold frame was the only other colour in the room besides black and gray, but it didn't do much to brighten the room. everything looked dull and dated, and maybe it was. he couldn't tell.