Mirrors

Chapter 4

I was really giving up on this whole 'my reflection didn't copy me' idea by a few days later. I still thought about it, but not as much, and I was always convincing myself it was simply just my imagination. In fact, I denied it had ever really happened. The whole thing had blown over.

And then it happened.

I had visited my parents room to assist my mother in a personal project she had been working on. A giant piece of paper lay on the floor, surrounded by markers, glitter, glue, and other craft supplies. My mother, unlike me, had a bit of a knack for creative things.

"Thanks for helping me, sweetie," she sighed as I came in the door, "You won't believe how much of a two-person job this is!"

I tilted my head, "What are you doing, anyway?" I asked her.

She shushed me, "It's a surprise for the family," she whispered, "I'm making a picture of all of us."

"Oh," I whispered back, "Cool."

We worked on it for a bit, and after about an hour or so, glue was all over the place, especially on us, and the floor was completely covered with scatterings of glitter. Then my mother sent me to her and my father's personal bathroom.

"Why?!" I asked, totally boggled.

"I want my hair to be very realistic," she explained casually.

I nodded slowly with a disgusted expression on my face, which made her laugh out loud.

"Go on, then!" She chuckled.

I went, thinking how disgusting my mother could be when it came to her crafts. Using real hair! Eww! I stood next to her tall, full length mirror, trying not to vomit as I attempted to gather the loose hair from her brush. I loosely held all I could gather in the palm of my hand when I noticed the mirror.

I shook off the feeling of remembering the previous events and decided to lean on the glass, resting myself and catching my breath, breathing heavily in order not to gag. I didn't notice that my reflection was leaning in an entirely different place.

Then I fell in.

It was an odd sensation, really. I can barely describe it. Okay, so imagine glass. How smooth and, um, glassy it feels. Then imagine it as a liquid. Now imagine falling through a thin membrane of that liquid, with little sparky tinglings as well. That is the best way I can put it.

I stumbled in, falling straight to the ground. I lifted my head and looked around. The place looked a lot like my parents' bathroom, but somehow different. I shook my head and got up, struggling, but I eventually made it onto my feet. I turned my head to the left.

And a backwards image of myself gaped at me in horror.