MirrorMirror

38 / The Girl

Amy's face.

Cassidy was reminded of how pretty she was. He was also astonished how realistic she looked, considering what was used to create the image. He knew her at school. This likeness was obviously from when she was older.

From seven years ago?

The portrait stopped moving once it was fully formed. Then the eyes moved to look directly at Cassidy. The mouth opened. The scream heard at his sister's was absent, but the gaping orifice filled his ears with imagined sound. She was still crying out.

"Amy?" he whispered.

The mouth widened. And widened. And widened until it filled the glass, leaving nothing of Amy's visage remaining. Within seconds, it, too, was gone.

Cass reached out to touch the mirror. The surface was freezing to the point he had to snatch his hand back lest it burn.

"What have we done?"

Bobby looked at the mirror and whined quietly. He licked his owner's chin, a gesture of comfort for them both.

"I know, boy. She's hurting, and it's my fault. I didn't mean it, though. I didn't know what they had planned. I definitely had no idea we'd end up calling her."

Bobby whined again and twisted his body to try and be released from Cass's hold. When he was put down on the floor, he crept to the mirror and sniffed it. He licked and pawed at the surface.

"She's not there, boy. She's hurting. I think I might have..."

He knew he'd hurt her, but his voice refused to express the concern that he might, somehow, have ended her. The term 'killed' didn't fit, but what if she was no longer there at all? Whatever her murderer had done, Amy had still existed in some form. If Cassidy and his siblings had taken that away from her, were they murderers themselves?

He wanted to pick Bobby up, but that would have meant moving closer to the mirror, something Cass didn't feel able to do. Instead, he apologised to Amy, certain he was talking to nothing but a piece of glass now, and walked away.

The rest of the day was spent in a daze. He cleaned the house, ate and washed pots, and stared at the television with no idea of what was on. Bobby didn't leave his side all day and, when Cass was mindlessly watching a show, the dog laid across his owner's lap. They both wanted to be with each other, and mutual comfort was gained from the contact.

When it was time for bed, Bobby joined him, laying on the top of the quilt. They both watched the mirror until sleep coaxed them into giving up their vigil. In his slumbering state, Bobby twitched and whimpered. In Cassidy's, he didn't move at all. Even his chest barely rose and, to know he was still breathing, a piece of glass would have to have been held over his mouth.

A mirror, perhaps.

The darkness swirled before them, whirlpooling blacks and not quite blacks together in a hypnotic dance of night. Cassidy and Bobby watched the maelstrom intently, not fully aware that they were unable to look away. From the point in front of them, it spread outwards and up, creating an encasing dome that obscured anything beyond.

No, not a dome.

A sphere.

Night had encroached beneath their feet, too, effectively surrounding them. Bobby barked at the night, and his voice echoed back from multiple locations, as if caught up and fragmented by the tumult. The puppy jumped up, managing to reach Cassidy's arms, where he was held in a protective embrace.

Cassidy called out. He wanted to shout "Amy." He would have liked to have shouted anything. His lips moved, however, but no words, or sound of any kind, came out. Bobby barked again and his voice returned to them, fractured though it was.