You've always had a slightly ridiculous phobia of mirrors. It's never interfered with your life before, except in small and completely inconsequential ways. You'd close your eyes during a middle school session of Bloody Mary, would rush past them in a dark hallway, things any red blooded American raised on a steady diet of horror and gore would call more habit than oddity. One night, late, you're getting ready to go out with some friends. You feel grimy, so you all decide to get ready at your apartment where you can clean up with your own products. Everyone's hanging out, taking pictures, and generally having fun as you decide to wash your makeup off and start fresh. You decide that the quickest way to do this is the way they show in commercials, where you get it all over with at once by splashing water over your tightly shut eyes and completely soaking your bathroom floor. You glance up quickly to be sure that your friends don't notice your moment of hesitation when it's time to close your eyes and scrub within sight of the mirror. As you rinse off your face, your eyes open to see your reflection staring back at you, which is not unusual. What is slightly off, however, is that when you go to leave, the other you does not. You stare at each other with wide eyes, waiting to see what happens next. You turn to your friends to see if they're seeing what you're seeing to find their grins growing wider, too wide to be quite human. Their eyes turn as black as coal, and they start to walk forward. Your reflection and your friends reflections start to scream. Your friends lunge forward towards their dopplegangers. You always knew you were on the wrong side. As your eyes begin to burn in an entirely sick, pleasant way, your grin stretches wide. Too wide.
