Reflection (portion)

Liz stepped from the shower and onto the floor mat. She ventured a quick glance into the misty world of the mirror, created by the steamy shower. She dried herself slowly, delaying the moment when she would have to face her reflection. She had spent the last two weeks trying to convince herself of her own sanity. She covered her body with the towel and, with apprehension, wiped the glass and looked into the world beyond it. The shower was positioned behind her, water streaking its door. The tiles reflected the lights above her. She could see the back side of the faucet and various perfume bottles on the counter… everything was as it should be. Then she looked at herself. At first she saw her own reflection. Both arms wrapped around her, holding the towel in place, her hair hanging down around her face, darkened by the water and still dripping. Then, there she was. Not Liz, nor her reflection. This was someone else. The hair, the body, even the movement were Liz’s, but the eyes did not belong to her. They were a stranger’s eyes. Liz felt a tingle on her bare skin.

They stared at each other separated by the mirror. Liz thought the woman wanted to say something. The image put her hand on the backside of the mirror. She began to push against it, as though trying to break through. Liz saw the palm of the hand in front of her turn white from the pressure. Suddenly, she heard the tinkling of breaking glass. The glass between Liz and her reflection began to crack and spread, like the thin strands of a spider’s web. The reflected hand pushed harder and Liz’s heart pounded in her chest. She trembled and began to shout for the specter to stop. Someone began banging on the bathroom door but Liz’s focus was held to her reflection by fear. Suddenly, the bathroom door burst open. A sharp pain shot up from Liz’s hand and she pulled it back from the glass. Her husband reached for a towel and covered her bloody palm. He was speaking to her, but Liz couldn’t understand his words. They came from far away, from another world. Her body was numb except for the throbbing of her hand. She looked back into the mirror and saw her own reflection, pale and scared. Blood, like scarlet water, ran down the glass from where it had splintered and cut her. She tried to think. She couldn’t remember touching the mirror, or cracking it. Still her husband was talking… no… yelling. He was angry. She tried to focus on his words but couldn’t make sense of them. Her vision began to blur, darkness closed in around her. Liz felt her knees tremble and give way. Then she felt nothing at all…

When her eyes opened she saw her husband standing over her. He was slapping her, trying to wake her up. She remembered dimly that he had been yelling. She could see from his face that he was now worried about her. He helped her to a sit up. She could see the bloody towel, her hand was stinging. She looked into the face of her husband. How could she tell him what happened? How did she explain the visions in the mirror without sounding insane.


About Kat Reed

I am many things: a wife, a mother, an employee, and a student (CSUB). I write as a hobby and dream of owning a small bookstore with a selection of rare collectible books I will never have the heart to sell, shelves of new and used books, big comfy chairs so my patrons can relax with a cup of coffee or hot tea from the small coffee bar... in the window will be a sign that reads: "The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, And all the sweet serenity of books" - H.W. Longfellow. Until then, I will continue to write and dream.... View all posts by Kat Reed

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