Mirror Of Death

Chapter 1: Brink of Madness

Elara's consciousness slowly clawed its way back from the abyss, like a ship rising from the depths of a stormy sea. Her head throbbed with the memory of violent disorientation, and as her eyes fluttered open, she realized her wrists were bloodied and battered, a grim testament to her futile struggle.

Before her, the mirror stood tall and unyielding, as unscathed as an immovable mountain. No crack whispered its weakness, it's frame taunted her with a view of her actual room, the living world. Elara cautiously reached out, her trembling fingers breaching the mirror's surface. It felt cool on her fingers, licking shivers down her spine. She pressed her palm against it, but there was no give, no hint of a crack.

Trapped in this mirror world, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. She had heard a crack before, she could swear on it. She scrutinized the mirror's surface, searching for any sign of weakness, but found none. It stood tall and proud, taunting.

In this surreal reflection of her past, the world outside seemed distant and unattainable, and a bitter curse escaped her lips like an irate tempest. "Crap!" She muttered, her voice echoing in the room that mirrored her own. "Am I meant to be stuck here? Is this what hell is like? Trapped with your favorite books and a cup of soiled coffee?"

Despite the grim circumstances, a laugh bubbled up from deep within her, hearty and unrestrained. She knew she must look deranged, laughing in her own room, in the throes of a death she couldn't comprehend. Laughing in the very hole where she had often sought solace, the mirror of her old room. It was as though she couldn't decide if this was heaven or hell.

Sitting up, she glanced at the mirror once more, realizing that her own reflection was gone, replaced by the room itself. She concluded that this, in the grand scheme of things, was her "rest in peace" moment, as the saying goes in death.

With a determined sigh, she decided she might as well make her "peace" meaningful. Her unruly room, a mess of years past, beckoned for her attention. Twisting her nose at the untidiness, she began to clean, as if scrubbing away the transgressions of a lifetime. She worked tirelessly, praying that the labor would keep her thoughts from spiraling into madness in her supposed heaven-cum-hell.

As half a day passed, gauged by the window of her old room seen through the mirror, she eventually retired to her bed, feeling the weight of her situation bearing down on her.

"This must be it," she whispered to the room, resigning herself to the strange reality she found herself in. She was officially bound to this, a purgatorial existence that compelled her to atone for all the years her real room had languished in disarray.

Clearly exhausted, smelling of sweat and blood, she wrinkled her nose at her state. Determined to find some semblance of cleanliness, she made her way to the bathroom attached to her bedroom. After a long bath that seemed to warp time, she emerged, pruny but refreshed, and returned to her bed.

The room had darkened, and Elara collapsed into a dreamless sleep, her weary mind seeking solace in the void of nothingness, as the echoes of her old life lingered in the silent mirror.

The next day, Elara awoke, greeted by the soft morning light filtering through her window. A smile crept across her face as the bizarre dream from the previous day danced through her mind. Trapped in a mirror world? She chuckled aloud, finding the notion utterly ridiculous. Hadn't she watched one of those episodes of that odd Netflix series, "Black Mirror"? She couldn't help but draw parallels between her situation and the show-Mirror World, Black Mirror-what a bizarre coincidence.

Feeling a sense of absurdity about the entire ordeal, she sprang from her bed and rushed toward her closet. It was the day she was set to collect her degree-the only day of her college journey that she knew she wouldn't regret. As she fixed her clothes, she couldn't resist the urge to approach her mirror.

But then, time seemed to stop. Her stomach plummeted to the depths of despair as she gazed into the mirror. She couldn't see herself reflected in it. The lip tint in her hand paused a breath away as she realized that, through the ornate Victorian frame, her room-the real room she had left behind-lay in disarray. It was the same room from the day she had died, and the realization hit her like a freight train.

Elara couldn't fathom how she had died, but the truth stared back at her through that cruel mirror. She had died! Gods! SHE HAD DIED! And now she was trapped in this surreal limbo between life and death.

Remembering her first death day in this eerie mirror world, she finally cried. Tears streamed down her face as she sat in front of the mirror frame, her gaze locked on the world she could no longer be a part of.

Elara knew that no one was coming for her. Her mother was long dead, and her father had started a new family. She was alone in her apartment in NYC, and no one would find her for a while. Maybe some of her college mates would figure it out eventually. Maybe she had died in front of them or with them. She didn't know. She really didn't know and it was tearing her apart. The uncertainty gnawed at her, frustrating her beyond belief.

Days passed in this bizarre existence. She oscillated between ugly bouts of weeping and long hours of fitful sleep. Hunger, it seemed, had no place in the realm of the dead, but her cravings persisted. She took a few bites of Snickers bars she had in her room, only to find them whole and uneaten the next day. A half-filled whiskey bottle became her best companion, offering temporary solace. Each day, it returned to its original state.

On the downside, no matter how much she cleaned, her room would inevitably revert to its chaotic state. Her clothes, also reverted back to those on the day she died, unruly now as she assumed at the time and arms of her dead. She stopped caring; it was a futile endeavor.

As for the door to the entrance slash exit of her mirror room, she remembered she dedicated a whole day in her crying fest to it, it had been the second thing that made her cry. Inspite of door as there had been in her real room, there was no door to this room in mirror world, only an unyielding wall in its place, as if it had never existed. Her only escape led to her bathroom.

She felt bitter. Only thing different from her real room, and it had to be the door which could chaperone her escape. If there's supposed to be a devil this hell, she's sure he must be preening like a peacock at her misery.

She knew she was teetering on the brink of madness. Trapped in a mirror room, she drank to numb the confusion and despair. She couldn't even look at her own face. The mirror in her bathroom had no reflection-no mirror, just a frame, as though it had never existed. And the mirror in her room was merely a window to the world of the living. Her phone, she realized, didn't exist in this world either.

Elara's eyes eventually fell upon the pile of books strewn beside her collection of antiques. If she was going mad, she might as well have fictional characters to accompany her in her descent. The men in those novels seemed to be the only men she could sleep with now. If not their broad shoulders or unmatched masculinity, her hands and untethered imagination could surely try to compensate.

With a flourish, she flung a book cover with vile picture of dragon and a girl, probably his mate, onto her bed and clutched her ever-faithful whiskey bottle in the other hand. As she opened the book, her world flipped once more, and it felt like she was dead all over again-no, gods! worse than dead.

Like hell custom-made for a book addict, the words on the pages were flipped, as if she were reading a book through a mirror.

Wide eye, a gasp surrendered to this newfound audacity. She realized, with a jolt of despair, that she was indeed in a mirror world. If she hadn't gone mad before, she was sure it was only a matter of time now.

A scream belted in the mirror room. A scream with high notes, abomination of screech and all things madness.

She was now truly at brink of madness.

•••••••••••••••

Author's Note: What are your views?
Do you think Elara's gonna get out of this?

What do you think of flipped words in books of mirror world? Lol imagine, if that happened to you or me!
Definitely sounds like hell.
What would you do?

And oh, have you watched Black Mirror?
Lol, well I haven't but still I added it for reference xo.