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 As the first blog entry got exhausted. My second book |
| Evolution of Love Part 2 |
| *Ghost* Day 13: “No matter how cleverly you sneak up on a mirror, your reflection always looks you straight in the eye.” —Louis Cyphre, Angel Heart (1987) When Daniel bought the old mirror at the estate sale, he told himself it was for the frame—ornate, baroque, probably worth more than the fifty dollars he paid. The glass itself was strange, slightly clouded, holding a faint hue of silver-blue, and it gave him an uneasy feeling when the auctioneer warned, almost playfully, “It doesn’t like being stared at for too long.” He laughed, took it home, and hung it by the hallway across from his bedroom. It seemed harmless enough at first… until it started knowing things it shouldn’t. It began one morning when Daniel was fixing his tie. He glanced into the mirror and saw himself, as usual—except, for a split second, the reflection blinked late. Not at the same time, but half a heartbeat after him. He froze. A trick of the mind, he thought. Maybe he was imagining things because of lack of sleep. But in the following days, the reflection became too real. Sometimes the glass caught movements he hadn’t made—a twitch, a different tilt of his head, or an almost imperceptible smirk when he wasn’t smiling. Once, when he dropped his keys, he saw the version of himself in the mirror fail to bend down. It only stared at him with what looked like disappointment. He started covering the mirror at night. Yet, in the dark, he could hear faint whispers, like glass flexing under pressure, or the shape of his own breath speaking back. Once, he woke to see the mirror uncovered and facing him, though he had turned it to the wall before sleeping. The reflection was standing closer than it should have been, eyes pale, jaw trembling as if holding words. Daniel stopped inviting friends home. He didn’t want anyone to notice the smell—a mix of old wood, damp air, and something else, something metallic. But mostly, he didn’t want anyone to look into the mirror, because he feared what they might see that he couldn’t. One late evening, curiosity overcame terror. Candlelight shimmered across the glass as Daniel stared deeply into his own eyes. The longer he looked, the less he recognized himself. His reflection's pupils dilated too slowly. Its lips were moving—whispering, mouthing something silent until he leaned closer. “Do you remember?” it finally said. Daniel stumbled back. The candle tipped and went out, leaving him in sudden darkness. His reflection lingered for a heartbeat—visible even without light—before fading. The next morning, he called the auctioneer, but the number was disconnected. He returned to the estate where the sale had been held. The mansion was burnt to its foundations decades ago. That night, the voices in the mirror grew louder, whispering fragments of Daniel’s own past—things no one could know. Words his father had shouted before dying. A secret he had buried fifteen years ago in the woods. A name he hadn’t spoken since that night: Jacob Harland. When he finally dared to speak, his reflection smiled. “It’s your turn,” it said. Then it stepped out. The thing that emerged looked like him—the same tired eyes, the same hands with faint scars—but it moved with a confidence and grace Daniel never had. Its voice was smoother, colder. It picked up his tie from the floor, knotted it neatly around its neck, and grinned through teeth that were just a little too white. “Thank you,” the thing said. The glass shattered—not outward, but inward, folding into an endless dark that pulled Daniel toward it. He screamed as the cold swallowed him and found himself standing on the other side. His apartment was visible through the glass. The imposter stood there adjusting his cufflinks, humming softly. Daniel slammed his fists against the inside of the mirror, but no sound escaped. His reflection turned toward him—no, not his reflection anymore—and whispered the same words that had haunted the start of it all: “No matter how cleverly you sneak up on a mirror, your reflection always looks you straight in the eye.” Now Daniel waits, trapped within the glass, watching through the barrier of polished silver as his other self goes about his life. Sometimes the impostor glances at the mirror and smiles—as if assuring him that the world outside will never know. But every now and then, when someone new visits the apartment, Daniel sees their reflection lean forward too… and blink a little too late. |
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