Mirrors
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“She still refuses to look into any mirror.” I saw the nurse look my way as he spoke with the doctor in the hallway. I sat patiently in my bed, waiting for the doctor to enter my hospital room. It would be the same thing as it has been for the last three days; he would ask how I felt today, if I cared to recount the events of last Thursday night, and attempt to show me the pocket mirror he had brought with him in his lab coat pocket.

I cannot explain what happened. I can only say that I looked into the eyes of Satan himself that night.

I was never fully comfortable looking into mirrors, and would panic if I was alone in a dark room with one. Something about the possibility that there could be so much more than a reflection within that thin piece of glass always put me on edge. There were times when I would casually walk by a mirror and feel as though my reflection did not follow. It was as if the image of myself lingered there, watching my physical body walk by.

I can share my story, but with no evidence to back it up, I can only hope that whoever reads this does not believe that I am crazy. What I saw that night was real, and I pray that even my worst enemy will never have to endure the paralyzing fear that came with the occurrence that I am about to describe.

It was around 8 P.M. and, after a hard day at work, I felt that I deserved a hot bath before going to bed and starting the next day at a bright and early 4 o’clock in the morning. I observed my typical pre-bed routine by washing my face, flossing and finally brushing my teeth while mentally preparing for the next day. I was getting ready to open the bathroom door and walk out when I saw a reflection of a black streak go across the wall behind me. I stopped and continued to look into the mirror at the wall behind me but saw nothing out of the ordinary. I blew it off as my exhausted mind playing tricks on me and walked out of the room.

About three hours later, I woke up and immediately regretted drinking a glass of water before bed. I stumbled into the bathroom, half awake, turned the light on and walked past the mirror to the toilet. As soon as I had walked by the mirror, I got the feeling that I was being watched; I had more important business to tend to at that moment though and I did not worry too much about it.

I flushed the toilet and walked to the sink to wash my hands, but along the way, I heard a ‘pop’ followed by the electricity going out. Power surges in my neighborhood were not unheard of, but the fact that I was standing in front of a mirror when this one happened caused this particular surge to be a bit unnerving. I quickly finished washing my hands and blindly felt around for the doorknob. I wanted out of there as quickly as possible, but I could not get the knob to turn. I patted my hands on my shirt just in case the excess water was causing my hands to slip, but this turned out to be futile because the knob refused to budge.

My heart was racing and my breathing became elevated. I closed my eyes to avoid looking into the mirror, and silently cursed the builder of the home for placing it right by the door. I felt dizzy and knew that I would hyperventilate and eventually faint if I did not calm down.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes as I reached for the doorknob again. I became paralyzed when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw myself in the mirror. The image I was seeing was not a direct reflection of me, but a bright, almost glowing body that was looking at me and smirking in a way that I can only describe as pure evil. The eyes were black, hollow, and soulless. They were not my eyes.

I frantically tried to turn the doorknob, but it was still not giving. The ‘me’ in the mirror moved forward, almost as if it were going to climb right out of the mirror and stand next to me. The tears began to well up in my eyes and I began to beat on the door in hopes that someone in the house would hear me. Suddenly, I felt a hot and stinging pain go across my chest and around to my back. The pain was so excruciating that I fell to the floor.

That is all I remember. The next thing I can recall is waking up in this hospital bed with my mother staring at me, white as a ghost. She told me that my father had found me when he was getting ready to leave for work the next morning. I was passed out in the floor with razor thin, but fairly deep gashes trailing along my chest and back. I did not tell her, the doctor, or anyone else what had caused me to be such a state because I did not want to be sent away to a mental hospital.

So here I am, waiting on the doctor to come in, do everything but beg me to tell him what happened and try to get me to ‘look at my beautiful face’ in that stupid pocket mirror. Try as he may, I cannot and will not look into another mirror for as long as I live.




19 Responses so far.

  1. Johnny.Tiggs says:

    Your story is clear and well written Ms. Alexandria. It is obvious that you have studied, and studied well the art of writing. I’m going to go out on a limb here and profile you a little bit dear. I’m guessing you are a young lady who has a kind, gentle and loving heart. Your heart probably melts when you see puppies and butterflies and fat little babies. Such a person as you, I may be wrong correct me if I am, would do well writing children’s stories. Such stories are fluffy and sweet and caring, like I’m guessing you are.

    Now to get you.

    As a horror writer you stink. Kill somebody in your stories baby! Slaughter someone! Splatter their damn stinking guts all over your damn story! Have the protagonist scream for their mother, their dog, their God while somebody or something is tearing them to bloody pieces and devouring them while they are still alive! Better still have the protagonist kill the doctor, her father and her mother and drink their blood! Have her blow up the damn hospital and her house! Then you will be a first class horror writer.

    Oh my. Now that I’ve gotten that out I feel better. Have you ever read splatterpunk? Such stories are ruthless, blood thirsty and take no prisoners. Have you read BAD GUY HATS written by David J. Schow? It is one ruthlessly terrifying short story. In it Mr. Schow doesn’t take prisoners and doesn’t give a tinkers damn about the readers feelings. In splatterpunk you realize there is a hell and as the saying goes – it is other people.

    Thank you Ms. Alexandra for reading my rambling. Good luck to you in whatever writing path you take and whatever you do don’t stop writing. And again thank you. :)

  2. Aydın says:

    Very good writing and story. I enjoyed every minute of reading it. I like the plot because it shows the supernatural and paranormal, and that’s what horror writers try to show in their stories. A big THUMBS-UP for your story :)

  3. Johnny.Tiggs says:

    Ms. Alexandria I slept on your story and came up with a new idea. Your protagonist’s doppelganger what scratched her a little bit? Right. Let’s take a look at CARRIE written by Steven King. She burned the town down. You can one up Mr. King. What if your protagonist’s, mirror demon, destroys the world. Ha, ha! Ha, Ha, ha, ha, ha ha! :(

  4. Alexandria says:

    Thank you both for the comments as well as constructive criticism. I will definitely work on being more graphic in my writing. :)

  5. Riju says:

    Dear Alexandria, for heavens sake refrain from being graphic. You have produced a nice & compact piece that respects the intelligence of the reader and encourages him/her to fill in the details with their imagination. I would be definitely looking forward towards reading more of your stories. And DON’T GET bullied by someone who lives on gratuitous gore.

  6. Avatar of belinda k belinda k says:

    I got over my jealousy long enough to let you know that you’ve written a very good story. You don’t insult the reader’s intelligence, and leave a bit to the imagination.

    This is going to sound cliche but, when given criticism, take what will help you and leave the rest of it alone. Be true to yourself. Listen to your voice.

    Okay, all done.

  7. I very much enjoyed this story. I think your prose is strong and you are very talented. Keep writing, don’t be discouraged! I’ve had a fear of mirrors for quite some time, so this story really hit home! Will there be a Part 2? I’d like to know what exactly was in the mirror and why it targeted this person in particular. Thanks for a story that made me smile! =)

    • Alexandria says:

      Thank you! I did not originally plan on writing a second part to the story, but I may look into it.

      It’s nice to know someone else has a fear of mirrors as well. I do not mind them in the light, but I get in a panic if I am in a dark room with a mirror; this is where the story originated from. =)

  8. Johnny.Tiggs says:

    Graphic horror is a guy thing, not a girl thing. I am a guy. That said a story can’t be too bloody, too savage, too horrifying for my morbid taste. My favorite movie is John Carpenter’s THE THING. It is one of the most gory movies ever made. It is also a classic. When that dog looked back and saw the smoke of the destroyed American camp, and then took off for the coast, I was horrified through and through. BAD GUY HATS written by David J. Scrow is by far, the most savage, bloodthirsty story I have ever read.

    I may sound sexiest and crude, so be it, but woman stink when it comes to writing savage, gut wrenching horror. Don’t get me wrong, there are woman who are genius writers. There are woman, past, present and in the future who have forgotten more about writing then I will ever know. But women writing horror, forget about it. :)

  9. Johnny.Tiggs says:

    It’s me again and I want to apologize for saying women can’t write horror. I don’t know exactly what got into me for saying such an ugly untruth. I guess the devil made me do it. Woman can and do write good, fine horror. It’s just not in your face, kill the shit out of, drink the blood, eat the body horror like what men tend to write. Women’s horror stories tends to be more subtle and sometimes, not often, more terrifying then horror stories written by men. Women, as a rule don’t have their characters dig in midnight graves, or dead underground cities at the ends of the world when writing about horror, something men are damn good at. Women are best when they are at home with family when all hell breaks loose. Have you read the fantastic and terrifying MAMA GONE written by Jane Yolen. The mother was a monster who came back from the dead to slaughter her family but just as she was about to kill everybody – she couldn’t because the love for her family overcame the monster in her. I would have used the same material and murdered everybody in the family, shit, I’d have even killed the dog, then I’d have went after the neighbors. Ms. Yolan made the monster mom’s love of family almost leap off the page. I tell you what her horror story did to me – it made my eyes wet and my heart ache with longing. :(

    • Avatar of Gabi Gabi says:

      Trust me, there are a LOT of girls who can write plenty gory horror stories. I wrote a story (not on this website) about a litte girl who killed people in their sleep and skinned them. Women are perfectly capable of getting down and dirty in their stories.

  10. Johnny.Tiggs says:

    I respectably disagree. Women writers, and women in life, are not capable of getting as down and as dirty in their stories, or in life – as men. In the middle of chaos, women writers who are masters of horror, generate love, nurturing and compassion for characters like no male writers can touch. Women’s strength is that you care deeply, love deeply. No woman sane, or insane would do what that gunman James Homes did at the Batman Premiere in Aurora Colorado. The best women writers don’t go bat shit crazy in their stories and kill everybody. That’s the domain of male writers and men in life.

    If you know of a good story where women writers are as brutal, as ruthless and as savage as men writers by all means prove me wrong and give me those women’s names and stories. I’ll say this in closing, there is no story that has ever been written by a woman writer that is as brutal, as bloodthirsty, or as savage as BAD GUY HATS written by David J. Shrow. :)

    • Alexandria says:

      You do not have to justify your opinion to me. If it were not for constructive criticism, my writing would suck completely. =)

      I do not think I will ever be quite as graphic as most people, it just is not in my blood (even though I do enjoy reading and watching gory material), but I may be a bit more graphic in future stories. Thanks again.

  11. Johnny.Tiggs says:

    Again I repeat, women, as a rule, do not and cannot be as gory as men in their writing and in life. Women just aren’t built that way. It’s not in women’s DNA. What I’m saying is women do not have to be as graphic to obtain masterful results in their writing. Jane Yolen is a World Fantasy Award winner. They don’t give that award to amateurs and retards. Have you read the fantastic THAT ONLY A MOTHER written by Judith Merril, THE YELLOW WALL-PAPER written by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, JOHN CHARRINGTON’S WEDDING written by E. Nesbit and DEATH AND THE LIBRARIAN written by the Yale graduate Ester M. Friesner. Again, the best women master horror writers cannot and do not write graphic horror stories.

    And yes I do have to justify myself to you. I am just a man, you on the other hand are a pretty woman. :) :) :)

    • Alexandria says:

      I have not read the stories you mentioned, but I am beginning to understand where you are coming from. It is in a woman’s nature to care and nurture those around her. So I can kind of understand why women would not always want to write about ripping intestines out and various other gory actions.

      Thank you for the kind words, but I am just a college student who writes stuff in my spare time and hopes for the best haha!

  12. Johnny.Tiggs says:

    NO! YOU ARE WRONG! You are a beautiful college student and you are the best. Keep on trucking sweetie. Keep on writing honey-bunny. :) :) :)

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