Onyx: A Crystal God

Mirror In The Woods

I press my sharpened pencil against the paper, crushing the lead until the particles disperse across the page. I lean back to admire my excellent handwriting. Calligraphy has always been a fun little hobby of mine. That goes the same for chess, painting, puzzles, sewing, yoga, collecting trinkets, and feeding the animals I find in the forest. I dabble in many other hobbies as well. I mean, there's not much you can do when you can't leave the forest.

"Are you done with your schoolwork?" Mom asks, stirring the pot of pumpkin soup.

"Hm?" I'm brought out of my thoughts, "Almost."

I've wondered that a lot. About my schoolwork and my future. It just doesn't make sense. "Mom?" She glances over at me, her eyes warm and welcoming, "Why am I homeschooled?"

"That's a silly question. You know I can't let you in school at the risk of exposing you to all the mirrors."

I have Spectrophobia, the fear of mirrors. I haven't ever seen a mirror. Except for when I was first exposed to one as a baby. Apparently, I was so terrified I went into shock and stopped breathing. I know it sounds made up but why else would my mother sacrifice her whole life for me? I mean, for the past 18 years it's just been me and her in a little cabin in the middle of some forest in Colorado. Yeah, we've had visitors. Only close family who know of my situation. That's it, though. Sometimes the isolation makes me feel like Rapunzel and I wonder if I'll fall in love with a thief.

"I know, but in general. Why am I learning anything when I can't leave?"

Mom pauses, thinking of what to say. She turns off the stove and turns to me, "One day you will. You'll need to have an education to support yourself. I can't promise that you can live out in the city, but you can definitely travel farther into the forest."

"How, if there are mirrors everywhere?" I tilt my head and rest my elbows on the dining table.

"I have a few ideas. I could help you get a job in the gas station a few miles North. It's secluded and the bathrooms are super tiny with no mirrors. Or maybe you can work from home. Get an online job? Only go to the store for groceries and clothes? There are many options."

"That doesn't really sound fulfilling," I mutter, thinking about all the fun drama stories I read in my magazines. Those people spend their lives exploring the world and relationships. How will I ever have that chance?

I notice mom smile sadly at me from the corner of my eye. She dismisses the interaction and serves us both the pumpkin soup. I push my schoolwork away and grab the bowl from her, almost burning my fingertips in the process. I watch her eat, content with the idea of spending the rest of my life with a person who cares so deeply about me.

* . ~ * . ~ * . ~

Mom finishes putting on her gloves and zips up her coat, "As always, use the walkie talkie if there's an emergency. I'll be back soon."

Since I'm afraid of my own reflection, I can't use a cellphone because mom thinks I'm going to open the camera or something. She's such a worrywart.

"Where are you going?" I tone down my excitement.

"Just to the gas station," Dang it, "I've been craving those Slim Jims all day and somebody deciding to eat them."

I let out a breathy laugh, "Sorry."

Mom rolls her eyes playfully, locking the door behind her. I run up to the window, peeking through the curtain. She starts down the dirt road. That's my cue. I throw on my coat and pull up my Uggs before bolting to the back door. I duck my head and hide my hands in my arms, walking in the direction of the blizzard.

The reason I was so excited about my mom leaving was because she doesn't know just how far into the woods I go. I'm supposed to stay less than 100 feet away from the cabin. When she's gone for longer periods of time, I usually go somewhere close to triple that. We're so far away from people that finding new trinkets is rare.

Mom is extra careful driving in harsh weather. Her ten-minute trip might take closer to thirty minutes. That's enough time to go pretty far and search. I don't usually find anything but that's what makes it so addicting. The gamble.

I make it all the way to my 175ft marker which is a blue ribbon around a tree. What? I was bored one day. Immediately something catches my eye. A perfect square lays near the tree, covered in snow. I quickly reach out to grab it before my fingers freeze off. I brush the palm-sized cube with my hand.

"L'Oreal," I whisper, reading the top.

It has a little hole on the side. I pull it apart. One side is a soft powder, a little darker than my skin tone. This must be foundation. I've read about it in my magazines. It's makeup. I can't wear any and mom only uses Chapstick. It's a foreign object.

On the other side is white, it looks kind of like snow. But when I move it towards me, a person appears. "AH!" I drop the foundation, confused why there's a moving person in it. Is makeup some kind of a phone with an attached how-to video? That's seems too advanced for technology.

I slowly pick up the foundation and take a closer look at the video side. Only... it's not a video. It's just a girl with white eyes.

I don't think those eyes are natural... On second thought, that hoodie and jacket looks kind of like mine. And the messy black hair. And every time I blink it looks like she's blinking-

"A mirror?" I mumble to myself, noticing how the girl's mouth is also moving.

This is definitely shocking but not enough to die over. Is this it? Am I cured? There's just one thing that doesn't add up: Why are my eyes white? Both of my parents have brown, almost black eyes. Maybe there's a snow smudge on the mirror.

I try to wipe the snow off the mirror but nothing moves. Instead, a bright light emits from the mirror, making the evening look like midday. I shut my eyes tightly, dropping the mirror. When I open my eyes again, everything looks mostly similar...only... different...