Friday Flash Fiction : Mirror Mirror

The braying alarm dragged Robert out of his dream. It was one of his favorites – the one where Rachel was still with him, and they were driving through the countryside in a red, open topped car. Her head was thrown back against the seat, and she was laughing. He missed her.
Dragging himself out of his bed, he walked in the half light of morning toward the bathroom. He passed the full length mirror in the corner of his room as he did, and out of the corner of his eye something didn’t look right. Almost as though he had doubled in weight. He stopped, looked back at the mirror, and just saw himself. Thirty two years old, still fairly fit despite not being able to get to the gym for a while. He carried on to his bathroom, to shower and get ready for work.
As he entered the bathroom, he switched on the overhead light, causing him to wince as the brightness hit his eyes. He walked passed the shower, turning it on, and then walked toward the sink. He leaned in to stare at himself in the mirror over the sink, (bags under the eyes? nope, not yet) and as he focused he caught movement over his left shoulder, where the door was. He whipped round, thinking “what the fuck?!” expecting to see someone standing there… but the doorway was clear and empty.
He stood there for a second, looking at the door. Weird. He put it down to a combination of still being half asleep and a holdover from his dream.
He turned, and stepped into is shower. As he closed the door and turned out toward the bathroom, he could see the mirror above the sink. Empty. Well, it would be, there was no one near it now. He started to wash himself and his mind started to process all the things he needed to be doing at work today. Slowly, the bathroom started to steam up and condensation built up on the shower cubicle door and the mirror. As he looked out again from the shower, he saw through the blurring effect of the steam a shape in the bathroom mirror. He froze. The water continued to cascade over his head and down his face causing him to keep blinking and shaking his head. Every time he focused again on the mirror he could see the shape. It was a person. There was no mistaking it, and by the shape of the head and hair, it was female. As he stood there, the hot water tingling as his skin turned icy cold, the figure in the mirror moved. It looked as though it’s lifted up toward the mirror and swiped at the glass, as if to wipe away the condensation.
Robert reached back behind him, blindly searching for the shower tap to turn it off. His mind would’t accept what his eyes were telling him, but he couldn’t turn away from the mirror.
Finally giving up on trying to find the shower tap without looking, he turned round and snapped the shower off.
He only looked away for a second, but when he turned round again the mirror was empty.
This was really freaking him out now. He opened the shower cubicle door and stepped out onto the mat. His eyes were locked on the mirror, but it remained empty. Standing there, dripping onto the mat, he felt dizzy with the impossibility of what he’d seen. Someone on the other side of a mirror? It was like something out of a Stephen King book.
He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around himself, and with a preoccupied look on his face he walked back toward his bedroom to get dressed. As he crossed the threshold, he didn’t bother turning the light on – there was enough light from the bathroom and the breaking dawn outside to see clearly enough.
As he walked passed his bedroom mirror, he looked into it and screamed. He couldn’t help it. Rachel was there. Rachel! She was stood, in the mirror, as though she was stood in the room getting dressed as she used to do. But she was different. So pale. Her eyes with dark patches underneath them. Her lips blue. And she wasn’t smiling. She always smiled, but here she was, just staring.
“Ra..Rachel?” Robert stammered. He slowly raised his hand toward the mirror, wanted to touch it, to maybe dispel this dream (it must be a dream, surely?). As his hand inched closer to the glass, his eyes locked on the darkness of the patches below Rachel’s eyes, he started to shake minutely, as though the anticipation of touching the smooth surface of the mirror were running an electric current through him.
Just before his skin brushed the glass, she screamed. And it was Rachel screaming, no doubt, but mixed in with the sound was a screech, like that of a large predatory bird who had just caught it’s prey. The scream pierced him, causing him to screw his eyes up and shy away as though he was about to be struck.
He looked at the figure in the mirror and saw that her mouth was full of tiny, pointed, teeth. Where was Rachel’s smile, her blindingly white smile?
Robert staggered back from the glass, and as his legs bumped against the bed, the figure in the mirror rushed forward slamming both hands against the glass. Her scream raised in pitch, almost as though in triumph of a victim at last snared. Robert felt his bladder let go, and he turned and ran toward the bedroom door and the sanctity of the stairs.
As his towel fell away from him, and his foot hit the top of the first stair, he heard his bedroom mirror shatter, and his terror broke free.


6 Responses to Friday Flash Fiction : Mirror Mirror

  1. The whole piece just flows. And the build-up to the finale – a treat.
    You really, really, really should be doing something with these. Really.x

    • Simon says:

      If they’re enjoyed by you, and other kind people who are so supportive in their feedback, then I AM doing something with them šŸ™‚

  2. Woohoo!!!!!! Success! That’s the spirit. Huge hugs.x

  3. As, wait a minute. I just read your comment again. That could mean……oh well.x

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