Let Me Out

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. It was my face, but there was something dark about its presence. Almost sinister-like. The reflection mirrored my movements, my mannerisms, but the eyes looked hollow and empty. And the smile… just slightly curled upwards as I stared back in horror. And I swear, as I turned away, the reflection remained still, watching me leave.

That was almost three weeks ago, and I’ve managed to avoid that mirror since, being sure to use a different restroom. There’s four others to choose from, as well as six bedrooms, two kitchens, an office, formal dining room, and another room I’ve never been allowed in. It remains locked, and no one seems to mention or acknowledge it. This whole house has given me the creeps since I started in-home caretaking for Mr. Tellum, the well-known owner of the historic museum that mysteriously burned down years ago. According to the townspeople, Mr. Tellum started the fire himself after stealing some of the oldest and most valuable pieces and storing them in his basement. I, however, find that ridiculous after spending all my time with him.

This man is 89 years old and has never had a bad word said about him or his late wife, Mary-ann, who died shortly after the fire. I’ve known them my whole 32 years of life, and they’ve never given any reason to think negatively of them. Unsurprisingly, when strange tragedy occurs, people tend to point fingers at the person closest to the event.

But now that I’m living in his house, his tremendously large house, I’m beginning to have doubts of my own. That first night, I went to use the restroom with the mirror. It was quiet, aside from Mr. Tellum’s CPAP machine whirring down the hall and the usual moans of a house this old. Some might even call it ancient, like its owner. At first, I didn’t notice anything unusual about the mirror or the bathroom. It happened as I was washing my hands. There was a faint knock, knock, knock from somewhere in another room, so I glanced up. And there she was. There I was, only it couldn’t have been my current reflection, as I was definitely not smirking.

I leaned in closer as I turned off the faucet, and my movements almost seemed sharper in the mirror. Almost. I brushed it off and told myself I was just tired. While walking back to my room, I heard the faint knocking again, only this time, it sounded like it was coming from inside the bathroom. Instead of going to investigate, I hurried into my room and locked the door behind me. It’s all in your head, Ellie.

Oh, how wrong I was.

* * *

“Good morning, Mr. Tellum.” His eyes light up as I approach his bed with his favorite breakfast. Over-easy eggs and semi-burnt toast with a side of mushy banana. I place the tray on the table in front of him and take a seat at the foot of his bed. “How are you feeling today?

He sighs softly and looks at me. “Well, dear…” He trails off and takes a small bite of his eggs. “I’m not 32 anymore, that’s for sure.” He gives me a wink and goes back to his breakfast.

“We can’t stay young forever,” I tease. I stand up, adjusting the blanket over his feet. “I’m going to get started on some housework. Holler if you need anything.” He nods once and I leave him to finish his food in peace.

I manage to keep myself busy for nearly six hours with cleaning, prepping Mr. Tellum’s meals, chatting and coordinating with other staff members and getting through a quick chapter of my current monthly read. As I slide my book back onto the small bookshelf in the corner of my bedroom, I hear it. Knock, knock, knock. My head whips around, frantically searching for someone in the doorway. There’s no one there.

“What the hell.” I run my hands over my face and take a deep breath, building up the courage to follow the noise that has remained silent since my first night in this house. I barely make it three steps when I hear it again, echoing into the hallway between my room and the bathroom with the mirror.

I force myself towards the bathroom, cautiously glancing around me to ensure there’s no on else around. When I make it to the closed door, I take one last look behind me before slowly pushing it open. The bathroom is empty. The window is closed and locked. There’s no running water from the toilet or a dripping faucet. The shower has dried since I used it the night before. I hesitate before crossing the threshold. With two steps, I’m standing in front of the mirror.

I’m already there. She’s already there. My sinister yet identical reflection is staring back at me with those same empty eyes and dark, twisted smile. I hear myself gasp and throw my hand over my mouth. She tilts her head slightly, her smile growing. My breath catches in my throat as I stumble backward and push myself against the wall. I squeeze my eyes shut, repeating the words “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”

“Oh, it’s happening.” I shriek as I hear my own voice coming from somewhere else. I look back into the mirror and see that I, she is now sitting on the counter’s reflection, observing her nails. She looks unamused as she returns her attention back to me.

“No. You’re not real. I’m hallucinating. Or dreaming.” I stop myself, realizing I’m talking to myself. Because she’s not real. I am. I’m real. I’m here. On this side of the mirror.

“I can see it all over our face, Ellie.” My eyes dart back up as she says my name. Her smirk returns. “I wonder…” she stands, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. “When was the last time we took our meds?” I’ve stopped breathing. My head starts to feel heavy and I grip the counter to steady myself. No. No, no, no. “Look at me, Ellie.”

“STOP! Stop saying my name.” My breaths are heaving, shoulders are shaking. I feel the tears stinging my eyes. “You,” I point directly at her. “Are. Not Real.” I spit the words at her, annunciating each one more than the last.

She giggles. “If I’m not real, neither are you. Because I am you. And you’re me.”

“No.” I rush out of bathroom, slamming the door behind me and sliding down to the floor. What is happening to me? Her words are on a loop in my head as I try to calm my racing heart. And then it hits me. “My medication… What--?”

I jump up and run to my bedroom, heading straight to the nightstand. “Where is it? Where is it?” It’s not here. I frantically search every drawer, cupboard and empty space in my bedroom. My Haldol is gone. I drop myself onto my bed and pull my hair out of my face, breathing erratically. How can my medication just disappear? I’ve taken it every day, twice a day. I took it this morning… Didn’t I? Why can’t I remember? “Oh, my God. I’m losing my mind. Again. No, no, no. This can’t be happening—”

“Ellie?” Mr. Tellum is calling my name from his room. “Ellie, dear. Are you available for a quick moment?”

I scurry down the hall, trying to steady my breathing before entering his room. As I reach the door, I pause and take one last deep breath and plaster a smile on my face. “What can I do for you, sir?

He chuckles softly. “Sir? You haven’t called me that since you were 17.” My face warms with embarrassment. “Would you mind fetching a book for me from the office?” I nod. “It should still be in the top right drawer of my desk. The key is here, in my nightstand.” He points to his left with a shaky hand. I fetch the key from the drawer. It’s old and worn. He lowers his voice and says, “Let’s keep this between you and I, hm?” I nod again and exit the room, heading for the office downstairs.

I find the book easily. It’s old and fragile, nearly falling apart. The cover looks eerily familiar, but I can’t place it. There’s no title, no author, and the contents looks to be handwritten. I tuck the book under my arm, lock the drawer, and head back upstairs to Mr. Tellum’s room. His eyes are closed, and his breaths are slow and steady. He must’ve dozed off.

I walk to his nightstand and replace the key, then put the book next to the lamp. Before leaving, curiosity gets the better of me. I pick the book back up and sit in the chair by the window. The first page is blank. The second page is dated April 13th, 1954. I scan the page and stop abruptly when a sentence makes the hair on my neck stand up.

The mirror was delivered this morning, and my mind is feeling uneasy.

The mirror? The mirror? I close the book and toss it on Mr. Tellum’s nightstand. “Nope.”

* * *

I’m beginning to lose grip on what’s real and what I’ve fabricated in my mind. The knocking. My evil reflection. My missing Haldol, although I know I haven’t taken it since I wasn’t able to find it. Mr. Tellum’s book… or diary? I haven’t seen him reading it, nor have I asked about it. I’ve avoided the bathroom for almost two days, since my last encounter with her. I haven’t been sleeping, as I’m almost positive that I hear the knocking several times throughout the night. The rest of the staff seem unbothered, adhering to their normal daily tasks, while I continue to spin out.

I’ve only had one conversation in the last two days when Darcy, the on-call physician, asked if I was doing okay. I attributed my withdrawn attitude and dark circles under my eyes to stress and lack of sleep, which isn’t entirely untrue. She seemed unconvinced but didn’t pry for more than I was willing to give.

The lack of medication has been screwing with my mind, and I catch myself doing things I wouldn’t be doing had it not gone missing. Talking to myself, out loud. Misplacing things, then finding them in strange places. Pulling at my hair until there’s a wad of it intertwined in my fingers. Having irrational or inappropriate thoughts and responses to normal things. Not to mention the withdrawal symptoms that started last night. Agitation, anxiety, headaches and dizziness, erratic heart rate, and a severe difficulty concentrating on my regular day-to-day tasks. I’m slowly losing my mind. Again.

I carry Mr. Tellum’s dinner tray to his bedroom slowly, dragging my feet. My whole body feels heavy. I roll my neck in a circle before entering his bedroom.

“Good evening, dear.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and I notice that he, too, has dark circles under his eyes. I’m unsure if it’s a lack of sleep, like me, or his old age and deteriorating health.

“Hi, Mr. Tellum.” I set the tray in front of him. I turn to leave, but I feel his fingers graze my hand and look back at him with a blank expression. “Did you need something else?” I ask.

“Ellie, are you doing okay?” His eyes pierce mine as he continues. “You haven’t been… yourself.”

“I’m fine, sir.” His gaze hardens and I sigh. “I’m just not sleeping well. That’s all.” I turn away from him and head toward the door.

“It’s the mirror.” He says this matter-of-factly. My head whips around and I glare at him. “Ah, yes.” He pats the bed and motions for me to come sit with him. I do. He shifts his gaze to the window as the sun dips below the trees lining his property. I cross my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for what he says next. “I was working at the museum when the mirror was delivered. I didn’t know much about it, just the tales people had told.”

“What tales?” I ask too quickly.

“Well, it depends on who you ask. There’s not just one, and some are quite wild.” He pauses and takes a small bite of broccoli before continuing. “At first, I thought it was just an ancient mirror from somewhere overseas. A valuable piece of history that would fit nicely with the other artifacts in the museum. But it was much, much more than that.” I watch him closely as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “The first time I looked into the mirror, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me… my reflection—”

“Wasn’t your reflection,” I say quietly.

He nods and continues. “It was, but it wasn’t. There was something different about my appearance, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.” I shift uncomfortably on his bed. “While I should’ve been afraid, I was rather intrigued, and I continued going into the storage room to talk to my reflection… to myself, each night after I closed the museum. The conversations slowly became darker, yet I never shied away from it.” He turns his face away from me and crosses his hands over his stomach. I wait for a couple of minutes, but he stays quiet.

“What happened?” I ask, urging him to continue.

He sighs deeply and I realize he’s falling asleep. I roll my eyes, moving his dinner tray off to the side. My mind is running through everything he just told me, and I can’t help but wonder why he didn’t get rid of that mirror. More than that, why the hell did he keep it in an accessible bathroom for others to find? I need to know more about this thing, but I really don’t want to talk to my evil reflection, and Mr. Tellum’s diary freaks me out, too.

I decide to make myself a decent meal while I process my never-ending thoughts. John and Lucas are in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner. I nod at them as I head to the refrigerator.

“How’s the old man tonight?” Lucas asks without looking up from the pan he’s scrubbing.

I pause, trying to think of the best way to describe my interaction with him. “Um, he’s tired. Fell asleep after only taking three bites of food.”

Lucas chuckles and turns off the faucet. “I can’t believe he’s made it this long.” John’s head snaps around and he gives Lucas a disapproving grunt before leaving us alone in the kitchen.

Lucas is one of the few staff members that’s close to my age, though we’ve only ever spoken twice before this. I give him a good look and realize he’s actually kind of handsome. His sandy blonde hair hangs haphazardly across his forehead, bringing out the green in his eyes. His jaw line is strong, but not too strong. His skin is nicely sun kissed with a full sleeve of tattoos on his left arm.

“Are you gonna say anything or just stare at me?” he says with half a smile.

“Oh.” I shake my head and turn my attention back to the fridge. “Yeah, it’s sad that he’s gone downhill so fast.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say it happened that fast. He hasn’t been the same since Mary-ann passed away.” Lucas tosses a dish towel on the counter and leans again it, crossing his legs at the ankles. “I think she was the light of his life,” he says quietly.

“I’ve known them since I was a little girl. They always seems so happy together.” I close the refrigerator door and press my palms into the counter, turning my attention back to Lucas. “Is it true they never found her?”

His gaze hardens as he slowly shakes his head. “From what I heard, she just… disappeared.” I watch him closely as he thinks back on it. “She went missing on April 13th of 2017, and Mr. Tellum had nothing helpful to tell the police.”

Wait, April 13th? I think back to the first entry in Tellum’s diary. He mentions the mirror being delivered on April 13th. “Are you sure it was April 13th?” I ask, trying not to sound alarmed.

He looks at me quizzically. “Yeah,” he shrugs. “It was all over the news, and it was the same day I lost my job.”

“Oh.” I look down at my feet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It was a crap job anyway. I actually started working here about six months later. John told me he needed an extra set of hands, so it worked out all right.”

“Can I ask you something?” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if I should even be thinking about the question I’m going to ask. He nods nonchalantly and crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you… Do you live here? Like, are you a live-in staff member?”

“No, I prefer my apartment at night. This place gives me the creeps.”

I nod in agreement. “I know what you mean.”

“Why do you ask?” He’s looking at me with those green eyes, and my words just tumble out.

“Well, I’m staying in the guest room upstairs, just down the hall from Mr. Tellum. The guest bathroom up there… have you ever used it?”

Now he’s looking at me like I’m crazy. “You’re asking me if I’ve ever used a specific bathroom?” He says this with a wry chuckle, but he must see that I’m not laughing. “Uh, no. There’s two bathrooms down here, so I just use those.”

“Can I show you something? I need to know if I’m losing my mind.” I’m already heading for the stairs when I hear his footsteps falling behind me. When he’s beside me, I glance at him and his face is full of confusion and intrigue. “It’s weird, I know. Just… bear with me.”

We make our way to the bathroom with the mirror. The door is still closed, as I have yet to go back in here. I suck in a deep breath and push the door open, stepping aside to let Lucas go in first. He stares at me for a moment, then steps inside, looking around. I watch closely as he approaches the counter. He looks up into the mirror and his eyes widen slightly. He sees it, too.

“No way!” He sounds far too excited to be seeing what I think he should be seeing. “So, it’s true. The old bastard really did steal some of the museum’s artifacts.” He looks at me with an amused smile.

I scoff, rushing into the bathroom and standing next to him. I hesitate before turning to look at my reflection. When I do, I gasp audibly. Lucas turns to me and furrows his brow. “This doesn’t make any sense,” I whisper.

“Ellie, what’s wrong? It’s just an old mirror.” He pats my back reassuringly. “I don’t think anyone even remembers this mirror. That’s probably why he felt safe putting it on display. Don’t worry about it.”

He thinks I’m worried that Mr. Tellum will get caught for stealing museum artifacts. I realize this was a stupid idea and go along with his train of thought. “Yeah… yeah, I guess you’re right. I just needed to hear it from someone else.” I exit the bathroom and head towards my bedroom. He follows after me. As I get to my doorway, I turn to him and say “I’m gonna head to bed.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks. I nod, closing the door in his face. I wait until I hear his footsteps disappear, then slowly open the door. I glance around to make sure he’s gone and head back towards the bathroom.

When I step in front of the mirror, I gasp. Then I groan loudly and slam my hands down on the counter.

“Hi, Ellie.” My reflection is leaning against the wall with that same evil smile. “It doesn’t work for everyone,” she says.

“What do you mean?” I’m so sick of this.

“It’s okay. You’re not losing your mind.” She laughs loudly. “Actually, you are, but not because of me.” She rattles a bottle and sets it on her side of the counter. My medication. The bottle is nearly full. My eyes widen as I go to grab it, but my fist meets the mirror with a loud thud.

“How the hell do you have that?” I growl through clenched teeth.

“It was the only way I could open your mind to me. You see, Lucas doesn’t have an open mind like you and Mr. Tellum.” She pauses, watching me closely. “Your psychosis allows me to open your mind to things that others are incapable of believing. But only when your medication is out of the picture. You brought it to me that first night.”

“What? No. I didn’t step foot in here for nearly three weeks after seeing you,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Hmm, wrong. You came back a few hours later, with our Haldol, and left it on the counter.” She tilts her head. “You poor thing. You really do have blackouts when you miss a few doses.”

I glare at her and try to refrain from screaming at her. “What do you want from me?”

“Well, for starters, I just want you to listen. Sit down.” I shake my head vigorously. “Sit. DOWN,” she demands loudly. I do. She grins at me. “April 13th, 1954. That was the first time Mr. Tellum saw his reflection in this mirror. He had been diagnosed with schizophrenia just six months prior, and back then, mental illness was poorly managed, if addressed at all.” She brushes a piece of invisible lint off of her jeans. “His mind was already open and vulnerable, so it was easy to get to him. Although, at some point, he must’ve gotten too spooked, because he stopped visiting the mirror. He draped a sheet over it and kept it locked in the storage room for years, never putting it on display as planned.

“In 2005, something drew him back to the mirror. Maybe it was his worsening delusions, or maybe it was just curiosity. Whatever it was, it worked. He visited this mirror once a week for years, learning, exploring, planning.”

“Planning what?” I ask, confused.

“Strange things started happening around the museum, from missing artifacts to ventilation fires and broken windows. No one was ever charged because the police never found a suspect. The security system was always conveniently unreliable, and Mr. Tellum was far too sweet to ever be considered the bad guy.”

“How do you know all of this?”

She simply smiles at me, continuing without giving me an answer. “Anyway, fast-forward to 2015. The museum mysteriously burned down, and two years later, little miss Mary-ann goes missing.” She stops abruptly, eyeing me closely.

“I don’t understand. The fire was an accident. And her body was never found…”

“Ugh, okay. Mr. Tellum had started having delusions about some of the artifacts, and then artifacts started going missing. Little fires in his museum led to the fire that took the place down. His wife was constantly pushing him to get help for his illness, and she randomly disappears. Do you see where I’m going?”

“So… you’re saying that Mr. Tellum stole the pieces, set the place ablaze and killed his wife?” She sneers at me, nodding slowly as if I’m finally catching on. “No. That’s absurd. I’ve known them my whole life. He would never do those things.”

“Did you know he suffered from schizophrenia?” I shake my head softly. “Exactly. Which brings me to my next task.”

I narrow my eyes at her and feel my body tighten around itself. “I still don’t believe you. Pieces of it make sense, but I just can’t imagine any of this being committed by that sweet old man,” I say pointing in the direction of Mr. Tellum’s room.

“Haven’t you ever wondered what’s behind that locked door downstairs?” I shrug. “I could tell you, but that’s no fun when you could see for yourself instead.”

“Like you just said, it’s locked.”

“There’s a key in Mr. Tellum’s office. Remember the drawer he gave you a key for?” She pauses for dramatic effect. “That key may or may not also be the key to that door. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.” She smiles at me again and nods toward the door, urging me to follow my curiosity.

I do.

The house is empty and quiet as I slowly walk towards the locked door, gripping the key tightly in my hand. My mind races with intrusive thoughts as I try to keep my breath steady. I stare at the door a moment before raising the key.

Just as she said, it fits perfectly. The sound of the door unlocking seems to echo through the old hallways and down my spine. I cautiously push the door open and gasp.

Museum artifacts. Hundreds of them. He must’ve taken them over the years, stashing them away in a place no one would find them. I walk into the room and take a closer look at some of the pieces near the door. The deeper into the room I get, I hear a soft breeze coming from the back. I follow it and find a small window, maybe six inches wide, with steel bars across it. Just below the window is a large, rectangular box with several dead flowers on top of it.

“Oh, my God.” I feel the hair raise on the back of my neck as everything comes into focus. Stepping closer to the box, I reach out a trembling hand and pull at the top of the wooden box. When I see the remnants of who I assume to be Mary-ann, I stumble backwards with a loud yelp, crashing into a glass case behind me.

It’s true. Everything she told me is true. He stole the artifacts. He burned down his museum. He… killed his wife, and kept her body hidden inside their own home? That’s why she was never found.

I rush out of the room, not even bothering to lock it. I take the stairs two at a time and burst into the bathroom, tears stinging my eyes.

And just like she said, there she is. Waiting for me. With that goddamn evil smirk. “Ah, you’re back!” she says excitedly.

“It’s all true,” I gasp. “Everything you said.” She nods nonchalantly.

“Are you ready to let me out and see what we could do together?”

“What?! No. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want bad things to happen.”

“What makes you think I want us to hurt anyone? I just want to get out of here and help you be your true self, to reach your full potential. You’ve been clouded by medications and therapy most of your life. Aren’t you tired of it?” I feel my shoulders relax slightly as my breaths becomes more measured again. “Let me out, and I can help you do that. We can control the delusions. We can be free of all the things you’ve grown to despise over the years.”

“And you promise nothing bad will happen to anyone?”

Her smile is genuine this time as she says, “I promise, Ellie. Just…” she places her hand on the mirror and looks right into my eyes. “Let me out.”

I hesitate for a moment before slowly raising my hand to the mirror and placing it on hers. Her genuine smile immediately fades and is again replaced by that sinister look as a whimper escapes from my throat.

Suddenly, I feel my whole body relax. I gaze into the mirror and only see myself. I turn my head side to side, watching my reflection closely. It’s me. I stare at myself and watch as a sinister smile spreads over my lips, and it feels good.

“Let the fun begin, Ellie.”