Other side of The Mirror

Chapter One: The Mirror

'Within the Mirror the Soul reflects, through eyes that shall not lie,

For those whose hearts are cold as stone are always doomed to die.

Within the Mirror the Soul reflects, through eyes now drenched with sorrow,

Tears may fall for yesteryears and all those lost tomorrows.

A heart grown cold will never know, what grace does lie ahead,

For a soul that's never loved before is already the wandering dead.

Chapter One: The Mirror

Leighton shuddered awake the poem still fresh in her mind. Sitting up slowly she was relieved to see that her reflection still slept. It was a strange feeling looking at herself sleep, though it wasn't really her that slept. It was something else.

Tired and exhausted she brought her knees up resting her arms across them. Lowering her chin to her hands Leighton sobbed gently. It would find this amusing; her tears were something that fascinated her reflection greatly.

The words of the poems tormented her restless dreams; they were from the old woman's journal that Leighton had found at the run down house her dad was clearing out. For a small price he had bought the house contents to refurbish for his second hand store 'Mathews Second Helpings'.

John Mathews eventually hoped to add daughter or son but neither of his children were interested in the refurbishment of old furniture. Leighton's brother thirteen year old James was determined to be a policeman though Leighton was adamant he was more suitable to be a criminal mastermind as he was quite excellent at cheating and lying.

Scribbled in the journal were mostly morbid rhymes bizarrely written backwards and strange drawings of beings shrouded in smoky darkness their claw like hands reaching out from black tendrils of smoke. The images held an element of fear that immediately imprinted on her brain; Leighton had not lingered on the page.

Whilst flicking through the aged paper a piece of card had come lose, gently shaking it free she saw it was a black and white photograph of two identical girls standing side by side. On the back written in faded ink and in the same handwriting was, 'Miss Mauralia & Miss Roseline 1925 aged 15', the same age as her. Neither of the girls looked happy. One looked almost afraid.

Soft snores told her that her reflection still slept peacefully. It had been a silly wish, even now Leighton still struggled to believe this was happening, that this was really some twisted reality that her over imaginative brain had conjured up to entertain her self pity.

It had begun with the Mirror in the old lady's bedroom. An antiquated brass mirror hung on the wall in the darkened room, for a split second she could of swore something moved within the mirror but as it was only herself in the room she dismissed her silly imagination.

When Leighton had gone to try and open the thick heavy set curtains to let some light into the musty old room she had found them woven tightly together. Her dad explained the woman had been agoraphobic, which was why the whole house was so dark. Old and frail the authorities fearing for the old lady's sanity had removed her from the house and she was now living in a care home.

It had only took several hours to load up the contents of the house that had any value to it but still Leighton had been worn out as though the energy was being drawn from her, she had dismissed again her over imaginative imagination and continued to help her dad load up insisting he take the journals that maybe they could send them over to the care home. Leighton was curious about the old woman and the journals intrigued her, she had found it quite sad that this woman had lived all alone with fear in such a dark foreboding house and all that was to show off her possessions were now packed into cardboard boxes.