Once More Unto the Breach

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own.

As soon as I arrived in my hometown after three years, I noticed that not much had changed. The familiarity was comforting, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that I had missed out on important events. People close to me had passed away, and I regretted not being able to pay my respects. But deep down, I knew they would have prioritized practicality over mourning.

When I was a child, my great-grandmother warned me that if I stared too long at my reflection in the mirror, a devil would appear. I was terrified and often checked my reflection for any signs of change. But as I grew older and learned more, I discovered that it was just our brain's way of entertaining itself when bored. Nevertheless, I still loved looking at myself in the mirror, except for the one in my parents' old bedroom, which always made me appear less attractive than I really was.

Upon returning home, I noticed that the antique mirror that had been passed down through generations was missing. I asked my grandaunt about it and was told that it had been moved to the unused bathroom, which had become a storage room. Apparently, the family had decided to modernize the house, and too many of our cats had started hissing at the mirror.

Although I found it strange that a century-old mirror would be taken down just because of cats, I decided to retrieve it for a photography project. Little did I know that it would lead to unexpected trouble.

//

As I stepped into the converted stockroom, I was greeted by a thick layer of cobwebs, but at least there were no spiders lurking about. My eyes landed on a large mirror, its surface concealed by a sheet and newspaper. Without hesitation, I removed the coverings, wary of the dust that could cling to my clothes and skin. I tried to stifle my sneezes as I explored the dimly lit space, but my clumsiness eventually caught up with me. I stumbled and hit my head on something hard, and the next thing I knew, everything went black.

When I came to, I was disoriented and plunged into pitch-black darkness. But then, a single spotlight illuminated the space, and I realized I might be in the midst of a lucid dream - something that often happens to me when I nap during the day. I began to walk, and the light slowly expanded, revealing the silhouette of my house on the horizon, just as it was in real life. Yet, something felt off. The scene was eerily familiar, yet simultaneously different - as if I were trapped in a distorted reality.

As I entered my home, I discovered my family members - but they seemed like hollow shells of their real-life counterparts. Determined to uncover more, I made my way to my room, where I spotted the ancient mirror that had stood the test of time. As I gazed into it, I caught sight of two of myself staring back at me. For a split second, I thought I was hallucinating - until the reflection spoke.

"I am you, and you are me," it said, and my heart skipped a beat.

"That's not possible," I replied, my disbelief evident in my tone. I wasn't afraid - I was simply struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"You've already come to that conclusion yourself," the reflection replied, calling me by my preferred name, "but let me clarify. I am every version of yourself - the happy, the sad, the melancholy, the angry. Everything you've ever done in front of a mirror - it's all absorbed by me and my personality."

The reflection went on to explain that someone was trying to destroy the mirror place - a place where reflections like him had been given life through the other side of the mirror. If they succeeded, reality would become dark and bleak, just like everything else in that strange world.

"Another person like you is trying to destroy the mirror place, Kit," the reflection continued. "Do you know how I came to be? Do you know why there's a superstition that says to cover the mirrors before going to sleep?"

I nodded, recalling the old wives' tale about how covering mirrors would prevent souls from getting trapped inside.

"You fell asleep in front of this mirror when you were five years old," the reflection explained. "I am a fragment of your innocent soul, and I grew up with you. With every interaction you've had with any mirror, I've learned more about us. And although I had a life here - the same as the family you have in your reality - mine would be taken away by some pimply edgelord who has just discovered it!"

My mind was reeling, but I knew I had to act fast. I had to save the mirror place and prevent the destruction of that strange world.

"We have to stop them," I said resolutely.

The reflection smiled, and said, "When you wake up, Kit, remember that you have a friend in every mirror you'll ever see. I will see you very soon."

When I finally opened my eyes, I noticed a small crack at the bottom of the mirror - a telltale sign that something strange was happening. I knew what I had to do. I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in me after the encounter with my mirror reflection. As I walked out of the stockroom, I noticed that the air around me felt different, heavy, and ominous. It was as if the entire building was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen.

I couldn't help but wonder if my encounter with the reflection was just a vivid dream, but the crack in the mirror told me otherwise. It was a reminder of the danger that awaited the mirror place and its inhabitants.

And then I knew, I had to get back inside the mirror, and save that place before the nastiness of their current reality seeped into my own.