The Mirror Estate

I've never seen a clock tick as slowly as it just had. The anticipation for the second hand to reach the next minute was gruelingly painful. I wasn’t in this pain alone; my friend James was patiently watching with me, anticipating the end of class. All of the sudden, the bell went off. Class was over.

"Remember to read chapters eleven through fifteen before Monday!", the teacher yelled. James and I were so relieved that the bell had rang; it didn’t just mark the end of the day, but the end of the week. We had plans to celebrate the four day weekend, and we couldn’t wait to get started. Dashing out the door, James and I boiled with excitement; we were about to explore one of the most famous spots in town.

"Come on Matthew, hurry up!", yelled James, and I hurried to keep up in response. At first, we took our normal route home. We passed the church tower, ran right by Mr. Malcom's trailer, hurried behind the grocery store, and headed down West Fork Avenue. That's when we turned off of our usual route and headed down a dirt road right by the entrance to our neighborhood.

We passed the "No Trespassing" sign as if it were a mere suggestion, and quickly ran up to the place we had been planning to visit for weeks; the old McHenry Estate. As we approached the mansion, it's crumbling brick walls towered before us. "This is gonna be epic!", I told James. Agreeing, he and I began walking around and admiring the craftsmanship of the estate. It was a stunning red brick Victorian-style abode, a full four stories tall with a five story tower attached. The home had been abandoned for over 100 years, and it has been rumored to be haunted.

“Wanna see what’s inside?”, asked James. “Is the door unlocked?”, I responded, carefully traversing the creaking wooden porch and approaching the door. As soon as I arrived at the door, it seemed to crack open in my presence. It was as if it knew that I wanted to enter. “Looks like it”, I told James, and he quickly rushed inside to explore. All of the sudden, as he swung the door open on it’s rusty old hinges, James came to a sudden stop. “Matthew, you may want to come see this…”, he said, his voice full of surprise and confusion.

As I peered into the door, what James saw struck me immediately. Right past the entrance to the estate, upon a small, wooden pedestal, sat an unexpected artifact; one slice of chocolate cake. “How long do you think that’s been there?”, I asked. “More importantly, who would leave a perfectly good piece of chocolate cake?” he responded, laughing at his remark. As we gradually approached the artifact, the old wooden floors creaked under our feet. “It’s been under this glass case for all of these years, I doubt it’s rotten. I dare you to eat a bite!”. “Really, James. It’s definitely rotten by now,” I responded. I then lifted up the glass case, peering in to see how rotten the cake was. As the case was lifted, an unbelievable scent of rich dark chocolate was swept into my nose. “That smells great!”, I told James. Nodding his head in agreement, he asked me once more, “so, will you take my dare?”. All of my senses told me no; except for smell. To the surprise of both James and myself, I pulled off a large piece of chocolate cake with my right hand and stuffed it into my mouth.

As soon as I tasted the cake, my mouth was flooded by the most unbelievable chocolatey flavor imaginable. The cake was not rotten; in fact, quite the opposite. It was somehow fresh after all of these years, and the light and spongy texture still remained. It was so moist, so incredibly delicious, that I couldn’t help but to take another bite. Then another. Then another.

“Matthew! What have you done!” James remarked in shock. Without even realizing it, I had completely eaten the slice of cake. “Umm… did I just eat the whole slice?”, I responded, just as shocked at my actions as James was. I only wanted to eat one bite, but the temptation to continue was too great.

Without a word, James and I continued to tour the estate. We walked all around the first four floors, admiring the furnishings left behind by the previous owners. James wanted to go to the fifth floor, though the first step on the staircase broke under his feet. Neither of us mentioned my unusual actions downstairs; after all, it was James’ dare. Surprisingly, though, I actually went through with it.

After our tour throughout the estate, we realized that the sun was already setting. “We should start heading back”, I told James, and he nodded in agreement. We headed towards the front door, James leading the way. He turned the old rusted door knob and opened it up. To our surprise, the door did not open to reveal the front yard of the estate, it opened to reveal a mirror.

“Woah!” yelled James, almost walking right into the mirror. “Where did this come from?” he remarked. He then reached out to touch the mirror, which was surprisingly polished for being 100 years old. That’s when something happened that I still cannot explain, an event that I have never witnessed before in my entire life. When James touched the mirror, his hand disappeared.

“AHHHH!” he yelled. “MY HAND! WHERE IS IT!?”. He walked backward, and his hand reappeared before our eyes. “Is that mirror a hologram or something?”, I questioned, my mind in disbelief. “Matthew, I don’t even think that’s a mirror”, he responded. With closer inspection, I concurred with his comment. It was not a mirror at all; It was an actual copy of the estate.

As James’ hand approached the doorway, so did his hand in the reflected dimension. When they collided, they merged together. “This can’t be happening! It’s sci-fi!”, I yelled. “How do we get out of the estate now?", asked James. To be honest, I had no idea either.

Neither of us dared to mess with the doorway again, so we walked to a window and tried to pry it open. Unfortunately, thanks to a century of rust, the windows were stuck closed. “What now?”, asked James, assuming that I knew the answer. At this point, it was already six o'clock in the evening, and both of our parents would be returning from work soon. We weren’t exactly supposed to be here, so we had to return home before our parents found out we were gone.

“I’ve had enough of this!”, I yelled. I grabbed one of the antique dining room chairs and threw it at the window with all of my might. The window came down, shattering into millions of little pieces. It was then that we realized an unfortunate conclusion; the mirror dimension was in the window, too.

“I bet it’s because you ate that cake!”, accused James. “Yeah, and who’s fault would that have been? You’re the one who dared me to eat it!” I responded, angry at his accusation. “James, have you tried walking through that door?”, I asked. “What, are you crazy? I wouldn’t walk through that thing in a million years!”, he responded. “Fine! I’ll do it!”, I responded in anger. I stood back about fifteen feet, and after a little hesitation, bolted towards the mirror image.

“Matthew! Matthew! Where are you?”, yelled James.

No response.

“Matthew, please say that you're okay!”, he continued.

No response.

“Please! I’m sorry I yelled at you!”, he continued.

Still, no response.

Finally, I yelled at the top of my lungs, “I’m outside! Walk through the portal!”. With a sigh of relief, James bolted through the portal, landing outside on the front porch of the estate.

“Come on, let’s get out of here!” I told him. “But, what about the portal? What about the cake? What about the windows?”, he questioned. “Don’t worry about it”, I said, signaling him to follow. He ran towards me, following me all the way back to our neighborhood street.

To this day, that was the last time that James and I have spoken about the event. Why it happened doesn’t really matter; what matters is the fact that it happened. That day I learned an important lesson; never let temptation force you to make a bad decision. Never be tempted to enter a 100 year old estate and eat a slice of chocolate cake of unknown age.

Most importantly though, remember this:

Avoiding temptation is never a piece of cake!