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Through a Mirror Darkly

A Story

By Mother CombsPublished 3 years ago • 2 min read
Image by Artie_Navarre from Pixabay

I knew I shouldn’t have attended this party, but Susan begged me to. Of course, as usual, she abandoned me as soon as we got in the door. So, I found a dark corner of the room to sit in.

I didn’t notice the mirror when I first saw the alcove, but as I got closer, I saw it. It was an ancient gothic-style mirror, a little creepy in design. I almost didn’t sit in the alcove, but all the others appeared to be taken, so I went ahead and sat down.

I remember thinking there must be an air conditioner vent in this nook. I could feel a breeze on the back of my neck, and it was a little chilly. I pulled my shawl, which I was wearing, tighter around my shoulders. It didn’t seem to help the cold, though.

I could sense another presence in the alcove with me, but turning around, I could see nothing. So, I ignored the feeling, which was a mistake. Soon, I felt a hand across my mouth and another yanking me backward inside the mirror.

I’ve been trapped inside this mirror ever since. I'm trapped on the inside, looking out, where no one can see me, but I can see everything that is going on in the room around me. There are others inside the mirror with me—many others of all sorts of dress and from all types of time periods. There doesn’t seem to be a way out of this prison. The glass is too strong, and there is not a door that I can see in this darkness.

Of our jailer, I’ve not seen hide nor hair of him, but that doesn’t mean he is not around. Just recently, another person was pulled through the mirror. It was a horrible sight. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought the mirror was a sentient being, for the hands were formed of the mirror's glass.

If I could only warn others, but I can’t. There was no way I could with no way out and no way to see into the mirror. My only hope was that one day, someone would find a way to break the mirror and end this torture.

MicrofictionHorrorthrillerPsychologicalShort Story

About the Creator

Mother Combs

Come near, sit a spell, and listen to tales of old as I sit and rock by my fire. I'll serve you some cocoa and cookies as I tell you of the time long gone by when your Greats-greats once lived.

AB

Admin = ViM

LYLAS

Mike Judey Dharr Grz Jay

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    Written by Mother Combs