The Mirrors

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is a short story that is loosely based on a dream that I had. It's about being trapped inside the darkness of your own mind.

The Mirrors.

Darkness. Darkness so thick that I can't see my own hand waving in front of my face. That's the first thing I remember. Not that anyone was asking. I stumbled around with my hands out in front of me like a blindfolded child playing hide and clap. I didn't know where I was going. Hell, I didn't know if there was anywhere to go. Hello?, I called out, not even half expecting an answer. The silence that followed was just as thick as the darkness.. and twice as loud.

I walked north through the blackness, counting each step but not knowing if they'd lead me anywhere. For all I knew, I was walking in place. It wasn't until the smallest of lights broke through the darkness that I realized my efforts hadn't gone to waste. It sat hundreds of yards ahead of me, seeming to just float in the air. It was small from this far away. I imagined a lightning bug would be large in comparison, but it was all the sight I had been given, so I continued toward it.

The closer I came, the bigger the light grew. Eventually, I could make out the wooden post that it was attached to. My mystery light was that of a street lamp. You know, I didn't pay it any mind at the time, but thinking back on it, the street lamp didn't cast any light. Sure, the light was on. The bulb was burning brighter than any bulb I'd ever seen. But the light was contained to the bulb and nothing else. No light around. No light beneath. A sun with a sharing problem. I stood just below the light, touching my hands to the wooden post just to know that it was real. But it wasn't real, was is it? It couldn't be. Things like this don't just happen.. or do they?

Cue the slamming door.

I jumped at the sudden sound and the way it echoed all around me like blown dynamite. The noise must have moved a hundred times before it steadied itself calm again. I looked up, but my light was missing. The street lamp had moved half a mile or so to the east of me. Or was it the west? Darkness. Darkness so thick I can barely see the sun. But it was there.

I continued my journey through the infinite darkness. The closer I came to the light, I began to notice that it was actually sharing with the ground beneath this time. I could make out a rust-red door from this distance. It could have been attached to a building. Then again, it could have been attached to nothing at all. Each step brought me closer. Was I still counting them?

I was more than prepared for the light to take off again and leave me blind, but it didn't. It may have even gotten brighter. The rusty door, with an even rustier knob, was, in fact, attached to a building. It seemed to be some sort of warehouse. There were two large windows on both sides of the door, each looking as if they had played Catcher for the Red Sox bullpen, but I didn't dare look inside. Not yet. Shards of glass painted my reflection against a black canvas. My eyes were darker than I remembered. Could this be real?

A breeze roared to life from somewhere beyond the light, rattling the rusty door and sending glass crashing to the ground. The breeze became louder and louder until it sounded more like a vacuum in my ears. Loud crashing noises sounded behind me like falling trees or the footsteps of a giant. Something was coming, and I had no intention of finding out what. I turned the knob, surely smearing rust on the palm of my hand, and pulled the heavy door open. With the beast just behind me, I stepped inside.

Darkness. Just open your eyes.

The breeze slammed against the side of the warehouse. I was sure that at any minute, the large monster that broke from the darkness would tear the roof off and devour me bones and all. Little did I know at the time, the monster was already inside.

Soft music filled the air once I chose to listen. The majestic tinkering of antique music boxes. It reminded me of the times as a child when I'd wind them up and smile as the little dancer turned in a circle to the rhythm. I set my concentration on the sound, and the breeze came to a halt. The room was no longer dark, though it wasn't all that light either. Unbroken windows appeared on the side of the warehouse, allowing moonlight to peek through. Had the moon been here all along?

The music was all around me now. The moon gave light to the shelves placed around the room, each holding several different music boxes. Some of them made of wood with tiny words scribbled on the side. Others were made of glass and shaped like a snow globe. Some even had a little dancer. Beyond the shelves was another doorway. The door was already open, though the moonlight did nothing in the way of helping me see what was inside. This isn't real. Couldn't be.

I inched my way over to the door and peeked my head in. There was another window, though it was tiny in comparison, that allowed the slightet bit of light into the room. Mirrors. Mirrors everywhere. That's what the moon revealed. Antique mirrors that stand taller than some people and flip like a coin. I stepped into the room, allowing myself to be entranced by whatever life it was that I was living. But it wasn't real. Was it?

The room seemed to go on forever with an infinite amount of mirrors filling each space. But they aren't just mirrors. Open your eyes, fool. Look closer. Each mirror contained a reflection that wasn't my own. The faces of everyone I've ever known stared back at me, though they were strangers now. I didn't know them, but they knew just who I was. All of my thoughts. All of my secrets. Some of them were smiling, others, not so much. This isn't real. What are they looking at? Every eye had now gone wide with fear. Were they afraid of me? No. It was something else. Each reflection was pointing now. They were trying to persuade my attention. Something was here. They were trying to warn me. Was it the beast from before? No. It was much worse. I turned to face whatever threat had snuck up behind me, and stared deep into the face of evil. A face that was my own.

Darkness. Eyes that were open, but always closed.

I stared at the reflection of myself, studying my own physique. But this wasn't me. This was something I had become. But not me. Not the REAL me. The monster stared back at me with its beady black eyes. They were glassed over and shiny like a doll. These eyes weren't mine. Couldn't be. The longer I stared, the more hateful the mirror's image became. It detested my very existence. I was everything that it loathed staring it right in the face. And I had to pay.

The mirror's image reached out of the glass and grabbed me by the throat, squeezing so that I could draw no breath. Open your eyes, fool. The monster stared deep into my eyes, infecting me with his dark soul. This isn't real. It opened its mouth and revealed a thousand sharp teeth, ready to rid the world of the thing it hated most. This isn't real. It couldn't be.. But it was. One last chance. Open your eyes.

Darkness. Darkness so thick I can't see my own hand waving in front of my face. But I'm alive. And my eyes are open.

The End.


Submitted: March 26, 2014

© Copyright 2021 PoeticDisease91. All rights reserved.

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