MirrorMirror

32 / The Pact

The brothers entered the room quietly, the banter from without being left where it belonged.

"I see what you mean about the wardrobe," Ethan said. "Big and old. Much like yourself."

So, most of the banter had been left.

"Shut up," Cass said.

Ethan did, recognising the tone. It said 'stop pissing about and take things seriously,' and was one he'd mocked his younger sibling about many times. Cass needed to chill sometimes. This wasn't one of them.

"Sorry, bro'."

"It's OK. I just... Never mind. Ignore me. Just be you, or part of you, anyway. The less annoying part."

"There's not much of that, ya know?"

"Oh, I know."

You two are funny.

Cassidy noticed the message first and waited for Ethan to see it, too.

"Fucking shit!"

"That's what I thought at first."

Ethan had stepped back suddenly. He slowly edged forward, back to his brother's side.

"That's so... I don't know... Weird? Cool?"

Weirdly cool, I hope.

"She can hear me?"

"I told you she could, you div."

"I know, but..."

I'm dead.

Not deaf.

Ethan opened and closed his mouth multiple times, as if the words were so confused, they couldn't decide what they wanted to say and, instead, could say nothing. He looked from his brother to the mirror and back again, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He had believed Cass when he'd told him about all of this, but hearing and believing were totally different to seeing and believing. He leaned in to examine the letters. He could see the ridge they created by being on the glass rather than in it. If someone was playing tricks, they were not using a smart mirror. It was neither digital nor projected.

It was physical.

He pressed his index finger against the mirror and slid it to the side, across the text. When he didn't feel anything, he pulled back his head so he could see it more in focus. Glasses didn't suit him, he thought, so an optician's appointment was well overdue. It meant he had to have things a certain distance from his eyes to see them properly, but he wouldn't always do what was necessary. Pride was a shit sometimes.

He'd removed his finger when he moved, so returned it to the cold surface and dragged it across the message again. As he did, the markings moved out of the way, avoiding his touch.

"What the fuck?"

He tried again and, again, the letters moved.

"She's playing with you," Cassidy laughed. "Let's see if I can do it."

"Fine. Go for it," said Ethan, moving aside.

Cass ran his own finger across the glass, and the words. He held his finger up for examination. It was smeared red and, as they watched, the letters corrected themselves.

"Favouritism!"

"Well, it's about time someone liked me more than you. You always get the limelight."

"That's 'cos I'm better than you, of course."

"Whatever."

"What is it?" Ethan asked.

He took Cass's hand and sniffed the residue, then stuck out his tongue and licked it.