Can you handle this?

Killer in the mirror

Killer in the mirror

This whole thing started one night, a very normal night.

Sitting in my room, listening to music, as per usual, dogs barking at a fox or just plain nothing. But that night, it was kind of different. Usually you can get the dogs to stop barking pretty quickly, however they wouldn't stop and usually it's just the one barking at the door. This time it was all four of them, barking threateningly at the living room door, my whole family thought this strange so my dad opened the door to the front room and switched the light on quickly.

The dogs rushed in and started barking madly at the mirror, I laughed at this, trying to hide my slight fear, "Maybe they're barking at the people in the looking glass house?" I giggled to myself, we left the room, managing to get the dogs out and locked it. The dogs didn't stop barking and we shut them in another room, away from the front room. They still barked and kept us up all night.

In the morning I went into the front room to get my school bag, it was eerie in there and I couldn't stop glancing at the mirror, I felt like someone was watching me, it was so freaky... when I finally found my bag, things were missing from it, my day planner and pencil case and sketch book I use when I have random ideas that pop into my head for drawings. I sighed, thinking maybe I just left them somewhere, I swear they were in there when I put it in the front room, I SWEAR.

When I got home, the same eeriness in my front room, on the coffee table were my planner, pencil case and sketch pad. They weren't there before, maybe my mom found them and put them there. The hairs on my arms stood on end as I picked up the sketch book, again I felt like the mirror was watching me as I picked it up. I hated it, I almost RAN out of the room. I didn't get much sleep that night; the dogs weren't barking at the door, I knew if there was something wrong they would; although one of them slept in my room, whimpering slightly.

I opened my sketchbook in the middle of the night after a horrid nightmare. What I found was horrific. Most of the pages had been taken up by dark drawings; it was too late at night to see them. I quickly drew up an image from the nightmare and snuggled back into bed. I felt like someone was watching me again, I've always been so scared of people watching me as I sleep or in general, mostly people at the end of my bed. I stayed awake until daylight and my alarm went off, I got dressed stiffly, the feeling of being watched was still there. The nightmare I had was pretty horrific...

I remember snippets of it. I remember being in my living room and looking in the mirror, someone was behind me, a man with blank blue eyes, no pupil or iris, just a horrible icy blue, I remember his smile and his eyes, but everything else is a blur. I turned around to see him but he wasn't there, as I turned back to the mirror he was there, but he looked nicer, he was right next to me. He put his hand forward and pressed a hand to the glass, I moved my hand forward too, but I couldn't reach.

Next I remember is running down my road, something was chasing me, it was cold and unwelcoming but it was on my trail and was definitely gaining fast, I came to a wall and turned only to be swallowed in darkness, which is when I woke up. It may not sound scary, but it was. I didn't want to look in the mirror again, ever.

On the bus to school I was listening to my iPod, it made the noise that it does when you shake it to change the song on shuffle, but I didn't touch it. The song that played was 'Cars' by Gary Numan, I don't remember loading that onto my iPod but it was definitely on my computer. When I looked at the screen the album cover was a scribbled sketch of a girl looking into a mirror and a man with his hand to the mirror on the other side, it wasn't the one I'd drawn, it was too good to be the one I sketched in the dark. The song name wasn't 'Cars' but 'Mirror Mirror' and the artist was 'On the Wall' instead of Gary Numan, I covered my mouth, I thought I was going to throw up, I suddenly felt dizzy and smashed my thumb on the stop button and waited for the bus to stop before rushing off and walking the rest of the way to school.

The song was stuck on repeat and I couldn't change it. I was late for school but I couldn't care less, I sat blankly in lessons and wrote nothing, just dreading having to go home, I no longer felt safe there and I didn't want to turn my iPod back on. Ever.

When I got home that afternoon I decided to look through the sketchbook, I thought if I avoided all mirrors it would go away. Upon opening the book, I found a series of drawings that looked like my dream. There was one of a running silhouette and a large shadow looming over it, I tried not to cry as I looked through all the pictures, they were all in my dream, scene by scene. I didn't sleep that night, need I say.

I managed to look in a mirror, it was just me standing there, I was relieved but I still felt watched.

I managed to sleep too. It wasn't the same dream. It was worse; SO MUCH WORSE. This time I touched the mirror, the man smiled and pulled on my hand, pulling himself out, blood trickled from his eyes and his smile twisted into something horrible, he brought his face close and sung "Mirror mirror, on the wall, who's the stupidest girl of them all..?" He laughed in my face and his body twisted and morphed into me, still laughing horribly, I couldn't get out of its grip. I woke up screaming and sweating, my mom and dad were by my bed, cold towels, water and tears pouring down their faces. I asked them what happened and my mom told me I was having fits, screaming and twisting my body into awkward positions, it was 12 in the afternoon and my mom had already told the school.

My stomach stung and so did my eyes, my whole body ached and I flopped back onto my bed, my mom holding my hand, I could barely breathe. That man, the one who laughed, he still draws in my sketchbook. I don't sleep anymore, so they're not my dreams but he draws, even when my sketchbook is in my room. I'll leave for a second and when I come back, it's wide open with a new picture. I can't bring myself to even go near a mirror, let alone touch it. We did an experiment in Physics with mirrors, I looked into one, hoping to get over my fear but when I did, I saw his face, behind me, holding my shoulders and smiling a twisted smile. I had a break down and was sent home, one of the worst places they could send me. Back to him. Back to his laughter.

Why won't he go away? I'm so tired I just want to sl..ernnnnar...

Good evening.

She's fine.

She's sleeping.

A fun little story she's posting, no?

Such a sweet face.

Yet so STUPID.

It's so funny.

Maybe she'll give you some pictures of my drawings. I quite like them.