The Other Me

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. At least, that's how it seemed at the time. My face was there, obviously: brown eyes; straight, flat nose; thin, pale lips; all arranged in the typical fashion. But, somehow, it still wasn't me. It was like looking at a stranger for the first time, albeit a stranger that looked exactly like me. I thought, “Is this how separated twins feel when they met?”

I twisted slowly, eyes pinned to the mocking orbs glaring back at me, straining to detect further alien signs. No sooner had I turned away fully my head darted back so I could look at the mirror once again, but only a frown gazed back. What was I trying to do? Catch myself out?

The sensation continued for a few heartbeats – really fast heartbeats – but then I saw the face blink and I realised I had blinked as well. I chalked it up to my imagination and let out a relieved sigh. It was Monday morning and I'd had about four hours kip after a long session on my Xbox One and too much cider. Maybe I should cut back on the cider next time. Maybe.

Still, work was work, and no matter how sluggish I felt I couldn't afford another late mark against me. I brushed my teeth, dressed, made some attempt at un-tousling my sleep-tousled hair, and headed to my car.

The fob beeped to negate the alarm and I swung wide the driver side door, letting gravity pull me behind the wheel. Engine on, I flipped the indicator and checked the side mirror before my feet moved and the car pulled out.

My eyes stung, and I stabbed at them irritably with my fingertips to gouge out the last crusts of sleep. Then I caught myself – or whoever it was that looked like me – giving me evils from the sun flap mirror. I slapped the flap back up, regretting instantly that having spent all weekend on my new game I hadn't had it fixed, hadn't even taped it to the ceiling of the car to stop it flopping down as it was want to do. The flap stayed up for about ten seconds before swinging back down. Usually stayed up longer than that.

The mirror was dark. The face trapped within it glared at me as if I was solely responsible for some kind of invisible torment it was enduring. My hand shot out to lift the flap back up, to take my grinning accusation away and pin it to the car's roof, but as soon as I put my hand back on the wheel it dropped down again. I could almost hear a whispered, “Oh-no you don't!”

I forced myself to watch the road as I steadily, deliberately, swung the sun-flap back up. My mouth felt suddenly dry, my tongue too large for my mouth. It occurred to me that I should have had a pint of water before setting off, but it was too late to turn back. Besides, there was a dispenser in the canteen that I could use so I didn't worry too much about it. I was far more concerned with the slice of face pushing against the ceiling of the car. I could feel the pressure against my fingertips grow stronger with every passing mile. I risked a fist and slammed it against the up-turned sun-flap several times, face burning as uncertain rage played itself out. I screamed, raw throat ravaged further by words that meant nothing. I struck the steering wheel over and over, head shaking as my body jerked and spasmed with fury that some ungodly force was trying to take my identity from me.

A calm settled over me suddenly, the storm abating as rapidly as it had begun. I was weightless, I realised, flying, yet still within the confines of my motor vehicle. It didn't make much sense, but neither did the mystery of the unfamiliar face in the mirror. The thrashing of my heart seemed louder in the perfect stillness, the absolute silence, of the seconds that ticked away.

The moment of serenity was smashed by the screech of metal, and I was rattled like a spider in a matchbox. Something blunt pummelled my forehead and there was a sharp crack, but I never found out if it was the windscreen or my skull that had broken. It ended with a bone-shuddering force ripping through my body as hot fluid, both organic and artificial, sprayed and spilled. Clashing sounds became indistinct and unknown, bleeding into each other until the noise was all one deafening miasma.

Numbness seeped into limbs that not long ago had known movement and feeling, my insensate form blessedly free from once-dominating frenzy. Darkness swept in from the corners of sight, swallowing me whole as my bludgeoned eyes swelled from the trauma gathering behind them. I was dumbly aware that the surface of the road was now the sky, but I wasn't looking at the upside down feet racing around outside.

On the ceiling of the car below me, I saw the sun-flap flick, lifting fraction by fraction before being abruptly fully upright. The mirror was broken now, the fragments of it showing fragments of me, all of them smiling.