Mirror Mirror

Day Five

Jamie opened his eyes.

Sunlight streamed into the room.

He lay there for a while, his mind replaying the strange events of the last few days. It all seemed so odd, so unbelievable, but yet he knew what he had witnessed. The inexplicable destruction in his kitchen, the loud noises when he wasn't home that angered his neighbor, the shadowy figure flitting through the apartment at all hours, these were all things he could not explain away. And then there was the video, which left little doubt regarding the source of the strange events, the bloody gouges on his chest, and the dark apparition.

That was over now though. The mirror was gone. It was either out by the road, or already in the back of another poor soul's car. And that was fine with Jamie. Let it be someone else's problem. He was just glad he didn't have to look at the damn thing anymore, deal with it.

He sat up, stretched, yawned.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he was hungry. He swung his legs off the bed and stood up, intending to put some coffee on and grab a bite to eat before heading out to class. But then his eyes fell on a shape at the end of the bed. They grew wider with disbelief.

The mirror was right there, leaning against the wall as if he'd never moved it.

"What the hell?" Jamie said aloud, the words hanging in the air. "That's not possible."

Only it had to be possible, because he knew what he was looking at. His mind raced, going over the events of the previous evening. He remembered dragging the mirror down the stairs, heaving it outside and putting it by the curb. It was heavy, like moving a lead weight, and his arms still ached from the exertion.

Yet here it was, sitting there, mocking him.

He jumped up, found his clothes and pulled them on, grabbed his jacket, then hurried from the apartment without looking back at the hulking piece of wood and glass.

Was he losing his mind? He'd heard of students working too hard, cracking under pressure, going nuts, acting weird, but he'd never put much stock in it. Now though, faced with the reality that either he was going mad, or that the mirror was somehow stalking him, he was forced to rethink that position.

He reached his car, unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel. Cassie would know what to do. She always did.

He pulled onto the street, into the heavy Boston traffic, and drove across town to the university. As he went, he snatched up his phone and dialed her number.

"You're up early." She sounded bright, cheerful.

"Are you free right now?" He couldn't remember if she had lectures today, and if she did, what time they were.

"I have a few minutes." She must have detected the stress in his voice. "You sound strange. Are you alright?"

"Not really." When he thought about the mirror, the scratching sounds, the black shape, his stomach churned. "I don't want to talk about it over the phone though."

"Okay." There was a moment of silence. "Meet me at the coffee shop on campus, next to the library."

"I can be there in five." He was already entering the college grounds. He passed by the auditorium, the admissions building, took a left and navigated the wide central avenue running between frat houses and dormitories. Up ahead he saw the building that housed the school library, a gothic looking stone structure, the oldest building on campus. Next to it nestled a row of newer structures, a taco restaurant, the school bookstore, its windows adorned with sweatshirts and mugs bearing the university logo, and a bar that was popular with the student body. The final building in the row was the coffee shop.