Hall Of Mirrors

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Thomas and Stella visit the Hall Of Mirrors.

Submitted: September 02, 2016

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Submitted: September 02, 2016

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Hall Of Mirrors.

 

Thomas and Stella stood outside the Hall Of Mirrors. Should they continue waiting for Simon and Carrie or just go on inside without them?

 

“Five more minutes, okay.” Stella wanted to wait for her younger brother but she knew he was hopeless at keeping track of time. It was not very likely that he would turn up by then, but at least she’d be able to tell herself that she had given him a chance.

 

“Fine. But not a second longer. We’ve still got loads to do, Stel. If Simon can’t be bothered to be on time that’s his problem. He’s not a baby, you know.”

 

One minute passed, then two, three.....There was still no sign of the younger couple. Thomas and Stella watched ten people leave the Hall Of Mirrors, laughing and joking about how they had all appeared; discussing which mirrors had been the best.

 

“Ah, come on, Thomas. I can’t be bothered to wait any longer.” Stella had one last glance around but there was still no sign of her brother.

 

At least they did not have to queue to get in to the Hall Of Mirrors. They had been at the fairground for two-and-a-half hours and almost half of that time had been spent standing in line, just waiting. As it got later a lot of the parents with younger kids had left; now it was mostly teenagers.

 

At first Thomas and Stella stayed together. The first mirror they came to made them both appear ridiculously tall and skeletally thin. Thomas rolled his eyes and Stella kept opening and shutting her mouth. It wasn’t that funny though, so they moved on.

 

Predictably, the next mirror made them appear short and fat. Not a nice look, Stella thought. She definitely preferred being long and lean. This was too much of a reminder of her tubby childhood and the teasing she had had to endure.

 

The next mirror was slightly more interesting. Both their heads and their feet looked tiny but their middles looked enormous.

 

“The Santa look,” sniggered Thomas. “Kinda suits me don’t ya think?”

 

Stella playfully swatted at his arm and moved on. There were mirrors that gave them enormous heads or enormous feet. There were mirrors that showed several of each of them and mirrors where their two reflections were merged in to one.

 

As the effects got stranger and the images more bizarre, Thomas wanted to loiter more and explore how the effects were being created. Stella didn’t like to linger too long. She found the more extreme reflections unnerving. She would go on ahead until she found one that wasn’t too disturbing and wait there for Thomas to catch her up.

 

The mirrors seemed to increase in number. There were smokey ones and coloured ones; ones that flipped her on her head, tipped her on her side; ones that rippled, distorted, pulsated.....

 

Stella suddenly realized that she had not seen one other person since leaving Thomas. She could hear laughter in the distance. She’d follow the noise, find some other kids to hang out with. Stella convinced herself that once she was no longer alone she would feel better.

 

She rounded a corner and she was no longer alone. There were ten, fifteen, maybe even twenty reflections of herself. Stella stood there, moved an arm, turned her head, and all the other Stella s did so too. She could deal with this, she decided. Thomas wouldn’t be long now; he would soon catch her up.

 

But then it seemed that there were movements apart from hers. She couldn’t identify anything specific, see it in any detail. But she kept catching sight of......something. Stella gazed from one of her reflections to another and they all looked different. Something in the posture, the position of the arms, the feet; the expression on her face. They just did not match up.

 

Suddenly Stella realized that she no longer remembered which reflection was the true one – which mirror was showing her as she really was. Enough! She would go. She would retrace her steps and find somewhere else to wait. Or better still, she’d find Thomas and persuade him to leave with her. They’d go somewhere else – the haunted house, the ghost train, even that massive big wheel – anything just to get away from where she was now.

 

She turned to leave but which way should she go? Where had she come in? All the reflections were turning different ways. Some appeared to be getting closer while others seemed to moving further away. Stella found herself starting to panic. Her breath was quickening, becoming shallow. Her palms were sweating and she could feel herself starting to tremble.

 

She turned one way, started to move, but it was wrong. Stella turned round, walked in the opposite direction – still wrong. She spun around, looking for a clue; looking for anything that would tell her where to go. There was nothing. No sign at all.

 

“Thomas,” she called. Then again, louder, more desperate. “Thomas!” Stella was crying now, frightened; she did not understand what was going on. But she also felt stupid – how could she be so scared of mirrors.

 

Someone was approaching her and she was so relieved. Stella turns, looks in the mirror expecting to see Thomas reflected back alongside her. But it isn’t Thomas that she sees. He is nowhere to be seen. The person standing next to Stella is.......Stella. There is nobody else visible.

 

So where are those hands coming from, the ones that are circling their way around her throat. Those hands that are squeezing, squashing, cutting off her air. It’s nonsense, lunacy – she is being steadily strangled by herself. The colours are fading, merging, blackening. The roaring in her ears is deafening. Stella can feel her legs giving away, can feel herself falling....

 

One of the last sounds Stella hears is Thomas’ voice, calling out her name. He is not far. He’ll know what to do. Then Stella hears herself answering, “Stay there, Thomas. I’ll find you”, just before those hands tighten one last time.

 


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