The Mirror in the Attic

             Firmly turning the key in the lock, I opened the stiff door into my new home. Moving from state to state is hard, let alone across the whole country. Thankfully, moving from a metropolitan area to a rural one, I can afford somewhere nice and big. With the freedom of my new job, I’m ready to take a step back; work from home, tend to a garden, make some friends, and enjoy living on the west coast.

             After hefting the heavy box under one arm, and turning the key with the other, I stepped through the door to be welcomed with dusty hardwood floors and white walls of the living room. Simplistic, but an open canvas for decorating. Walking a little farther in, I found myself in a small kitchen with white tile counter tops and outdated yellow wallpaper. I set the box on the counter, and my keys followed suit. Before I can explore further, I really need to get all my boxes in here.

             A salty breeze met me as I walked out onto the covered porch, rustling through the fresh spring leaves and flowers that were planted along the drive. I opened one of the back doors of my Nissan, ready to start unpacking the tetris I had stacked into the back of my car before I left Chicago. Just as I was about to pull a box from the top of the stack, when a voice made me jump.

             “Howdy, neighbor!” The box slipped from my hands, landing on my foot with a heavy thump. Maybe I shouldn’t have put the books on top.

             “Ye-ouch!” Hopping back, I find myself pressed up against somebody.

             “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The stranger gently takes my shoulders, steadying me before leaning down to pick up the box.

             “It’s okay. Totally my fault for packing a heavy box on top.” As the woman stands, I can’t help but catch myself staring at her. She has vibrantly colored dreadlocks and reddish-pink, round glasses.

             “I’m Madelyn, by the way. I live across the street.”

             “Brooke.” I offered her a small smile, still slightly unsure of how friendly she's being. Does she want something from me? Or is this just the hospitality I've heard about rural areas?

             “Why don’t I go grab my brother, and we can help you unpack your car and get set up? It's the neighborly thing to do.” I often don’t like accepting help from strangers, but this is the first time I’ve moved across the country.

             “Um... Sure. Maybe I can order some takeout for us when we’re done to thank you for helping me.”

             “Oooh, you’d like Gus’ pizza. He makes the best wood-fired pizza down at his bar. Although, he doesn’t do takeout, so maybe Sebastian and I can take you down to the bar and introduce you to some of the best pizza you’ve ever had.” Taking another box, I follow Madelyn toward the front door. After setting down her box on the counter, Madelyn turned toward the door. “I’ll be right back!”

             I have no idea who Sebastian or Gus are, but I guess I’m roped into meeting them now. After I, one by one, take a few more boxes back in, Madelyn returns with a bean-pole of a man. He's quite a contrast to her shorter stature, and his pale skin makes me question the siblings aspect of their relationship. As they walked over, through my front lawn, he reached up to brush long, dark violet hair out of his eyes.

             “Brooke, this is my brother, Sebastian. Sebastian, this is Brooke, our new neighbor!”

             “Half-brother, Madelyn. Half-brother.”

             “Fiiine, half-brother.” She wrapped her hands around his upper arm and leaned her head on his shoulder with a half-hug. “You’re still family though.”

             “Sure, Madelyn.” He gently shrugs her off, and steps forward. “Where would you like the boxes?” I noticed that Sebastian’s voice changed between when he addressed his half-sister and me. With her, he was rather cold. But with me, his voice was soft and welcoming.

             “Uhm… Just anywhere is fine. They’re not really organized at the moment. The moving truck should be here with the rest of my things tomorrow, but for now this is all I have.” Sebastian shrugged and walked around my car to open the other door. He picked up a few boxes and began to walk them into the house, Madelyn and I following suit.

             It wasn’t too long before we had brought all of my things in, and the orange light of the evening began to filter in through the open windows. Looking around at what we had brought in, I noticed that Sebastian was shuffling boxes around and putting like things together. My books, kitchen supplies, and a few other essentials, all put into groups together. My sleeping bag, air mattress, and clothes were put off to the side. I wasn’t expecting anything like that, but it’s nice. And I guess I should be thankful.

             While the siblings were occupied with moving my things and joking around, or rather Madelyn joking and Sebastian merely shuffling things in response, I decided to take a moment to look around the house. "I'll be right back." Neither of them seemed to hear me over their playful bickering, so I shrugged and walked away.

             The first floor was small, the living room, an open kitchen, and a ‘bonus room’ that led to the spacious backyard and patio. Venturing up the stairs, I was met with an open landing and three doors. The first I looked into led me into the master bedroom. It had soft white carpet and the bathroom looked to be recently remodeled with clean white tile and natural accents. The second door opened into another bedroom with the same carpet. It was likely to become my office.

             The third, however, was labeled, unlike the others. A wood plaque reading ‘Attic’ was affixed at eye level. I walked to the door and slowly turned the handle, curious to see what it looked like. Before I could open the door, however, I heard bellowing from below.

             “Brooke? Where did you go?”

             “Just upstairs, I’ll be down in a second!” I slowly opened the door to reveal a surprisingly spacious attic that had the same hardwood floors that spanned the rest of the house. Stepping inside, it was rather well lit, with a skylight and a window at the far wall. There was a closet immediately off to the right. It felt almost like… It was calling to me?

             Carefully, I stepped forward and pulled open the sliding door. Inside, there was an old coat, and a pair of boots. In the back of the closet was a mirror. I heard footsteps behind me, and turned my head around to see Sebastian standing at the doorway. “Hey, sorry, but… Madelyn really wants to get going. She wants to introduce you to everybody down at Gus’ before most of them leave for the night.”

             “Just a second. There’s something weird about this closet.” Sebastian gave me a strange look with raised eyebrows and shrugged. With a tentative step forward, I put my hand out to the mirror. It feels cold. Trying to pull my hand back, I find that it’s stuck there.

             “Uh, Sebastian? My hand's stuck.” Concerned, I try to pull my hand from the mirror.

             “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Sebastian carefully grips my arm and pulls too, but to no avail. With every pull, we find that I’m being sucked further and further into the mirror. “Sebastian, help!” He grabs my hand before I’m completely sucked through, and both of us tumble through the glass.

             Opening my eyes, I find Sebastian lying on top of me, the two of us in a rather… compromised position. When he stops scrunching his closed, he looks down at me and blushes bright red.

             He practically jumps off, allowing me to sit up and look around at the room. Which appears to be a well decorated version of my attic? It sure as hell looked like my attic, but someone else’s things were here. Along one wall, there was a long desk with a sewing machine at one end, yards and scraps of fabric and a half finished project sat on the other end. Against the far wall, the one with the window, which now had delicate pink curtains over it that fluttered in the breeze, there were two guitar stands. One with an acoustic, the other an electric, an amp sitting nearby. The wall closest to us had two desks, each with their own desktop computer. The center of the floor had a large, plush, baby pink rug.

             “This is way to weird. What happened?”

             “I think… I think we found a magic portal in your closet, Brooke.”

             “Don’t be ridiculous.”

             “I’m not, look.” Sebastian pointed to the mirror behind me. I turned around to see words now written on the mirror. In the mirror? I’m not sure. “To return to your time, you must find my key.”

             “How?” I stood up, brushing myself off and offered a hand to Sebastian, who took it gratefully. The mirror replied with another line and a photograph.

             “You must learn to love again.” The photograph was a classic style polaroid. In it was me and Sebastian. Only… We looked older. Not by much, but definitely older. I looked up at Sebastian, who met my gaze with wide, curious eyes.

             “No. No way. I told myself I wouldn’t do that after what happened in Chicago.” I stepped up to the mirror, placing my hand on it and willing myself to go back through whatever portal-to-hell this was. When nothing happened, I hit my hand against the mirror. “Come on, just let me back through!”

             “Brooke-,”

             “No. I can’t do this whole… love thing again.”

             “I don’t like it any more than you do, but we’ve got to try something, and banging on the very fragile way back home seems like a bad idea. I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to. I have a job. I have deadlines. I have people relying on me.” Whirling around, I pointed a finger at his chest.

             “Yeah? And I have-,” I stop short, thinking back to why I moved out here in the first place. “I have… nothing. I don’t have anybody to go back to. No job, no family. Nothing.” I feel tears trying to well in my eyes, heart still burned by what my life used to be.

             “Brooke, I’m sorry.”

             “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” I wipe the single tear that falls down my cheek with my hand. “Let’s at least go see what’s going on in the rest of the house. Maybe if we’re lucky, this doesn’t belong to anybody.”

             “Given the décor, somebody lives here.” Sebastian followed me as I stepped out the attic door onto the landing. Here, there was a reading nook set up, bookshelves filled to the brim with paperbacks and hardbacks. A record player sat next to the window, with a box of records. I stepped up to the bookshelf, scanning the spines. There were several series that I recognized, many of which were my favorites. Near the bottom was a collection of yellow hardback books. Crouching, I picked one out of the middle and read the title. Nancy Drew.

             “No way… I used to read these as a kid.”

             “Looks like whoever lives here has good taste.” I looked up to see Sebastian holding up a blue record album. On the front there were two skeletons lying curled together on a floor.

             “Believers Never Die is a pretty great album.”

             “I didn’t take you for a fan of alternative music.” He sets the record back down in the file box as I replaced the book. I looked at the two doors to my left, knowing I didn’t want to delve into whatever was behind them just yet. Probably bedrooms, but it still feels rude to intrude on a private space like that. Especially when I don't know if it's truly mine.

             Downstairs, the house felt more like a home. There was art all over the walls, some framed and others open, tastefully mismatched with the furniture.

             I wondered into the kitchen, marveling at just how different it looked that what I had seen when I first walked in. Back in the other version of this house. The counter was no longer tile, instead a beautiful, white faux granite. The yellow sunflower wallpaper of a bygone era was long gone, replaced with a soft tan paint. On the refrigerator was a collection of child’s paintings and a few photos. Pulling one from a magnetic clip on the door, I leaned back against the counter.

             Sebastian walked up to the counter, crossing his arms and leaning against it next to me. I held out the photo for him to see. Us, cuddled together on a sofa, the child sitting between us. We both shared a nervous look, when I heard the distinct sound of a key turning in a lock, in the direction of the front door.

             “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, slowly reaching for Sebastian’s hand. Things were about to get a lot more complicated.