I awoke suddenly, jolting in the hard and creaky bed I had crashed the night before, in a wine fuelled haze, with a feeling like I had been plunged into darkness. I was unsure if my eyes were open or closed and my temple throbbed at last night’s poor decision to finish a bottle and a half. I fumbled for my phone under my pillow and groaned at the blinding brightness. It was only five in the morning but I had work to do, so rolled myself off the bed; agonisingly sluggish. I looked around with only one eye open, perched on the end of the bed, checking the severity of the potential hangover. So far so good.
I yawned and looked around the quiet room, everything seemingly peaceful, and frowned at the dramatic quantity of mirrors lying around. Strangely, they were all covered over with sheets or fabric. A brief memory flashed across my eyes momentarily, a blurry me, talking nonsensically, covering the mirrors frantically. I shook my head confused, unable to pull anymore of the memory out. Too many black spots surrounded the images and I couldn’t place any context. I decided it was merely hangxiety and decided to make a well needed coffee.
I stalked around the house, frustrated at the unnecessary maze- like hallways. It was a six bed maisonette that I had been looking at architecturally the last few weeks. I ended up being here late last night, hence the drunken sleepover for one. I shivered as an icy breeze kissed my skin and broke me from my train of thought.
I finally found my way to the kitchen, staring at my reflection in yet another mirror of many that was leaned against the wall behind the kettle. I rolled my eyes, thinking it would take me longer to remove all these mirrors than to renovate the house. I remember when I was given the listing, I was briefed, but not told about the state of it or how long it had apparently been left abandoned for. Walking up to the porch for the first time left me with an uneasy feeling but I knew I’d make a lot of money if this thing eventually sold, after what will definitely be a radical transformation. The first thing that caught my attention was the dark and exposed old brick walls, accompanied by a scary amount of mirrors lying around and hanging on the walls, varying in shape and size. Some I recognised to be antiques which I knew would add value to the property, so I hastily took the project on despite the fact that my instincts were screaming at me not to.
I was distracted by the flick of the kettle and finished making my coffee. I sat on the dusty sofa in the living room and looked around to find that more of the mirrors were covered. I must’ve been the one to do it, but I couldn’t remember or think why I was compelled to. Although, I was having slight palpitations and rising adrenalin as I tried to dig up the memory. I shook my head, willing myself to get a grip and caught up with some work emails as a distraction while I sipped the coffee, my tummy uneasy after yesterday.
I decided to get on with work and was looking at floor plans and overall dimensions when another blurry memory revealed itself. I was running through the hallways, panting, with tears streaming down my cheeks. Fear bubbled inside me and I took some deep breaths and reminded myself that this was probably a dream. I continued working for a couple of hours, but couldn’t shake this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I decided to get out of the house and get some lunch as I couldn’t actually remember the last time I had eaten. I was always described as a workaholic or busy bee and was very scatty and unorganised in nature. Some have even used the term ‘hot mess,’ more than once, but this only amused me as I’ve never been one to care about other peoples opinions of me.
I quickly found myself at a Starbucks and refuelled on more caffeine and a sandwich, trying to find the right construction company for this house. I walked back as the clouds darkened and rain started to fall. I walked up to the porch with an even more uneasy feeling, like I was trespassing or not welcome. I’ve always been the biggest sceptic with all things supernatural or Casper-like, but this did not feel good at all. I very nearly went to walk away, my gut telling me not to go in. But me being me was like screw the ghosts.
Straight away I knew something was off, the energy felt dark and goosebumps stood on edge all over my body. This feeling was only heightened as I continued walking through, because I noticed that all the covers I had put over the mirrors, were not only no longer covering them, but were gone altogether. My brain being all too sane wanted to investigate and make sense of this rather then get the hell out. So I found myself in one of the smaller rooms that I had assumed was a study in its past life. Again the walls were lined with mirrors and newspapers covered the floor, which hadn’t been there the night before.
My reflection in one of the mirrors caught my attention and my vision doubled as there seemed to be two of me standing there. I froze as fear paralysed me and watched helplessly as one of me started to slowly walk away. My reasonable brain was no longer present and I felt like I was in my very own horror movie, feeling desperately like I need to get out of this situation. I followed the reflection with my eyes as it creeped around the room; not taking its eyes off me, a slight grin on its face. I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing one thing for sure, whatever the hell that was, it was not me and it was evil. I tried to move but I was unable to, not knowing if this was simply fear or some other force out of my control.
When I opened my eyes again, I was standing only inches from the mirror and the reflection was bloodied and smiling. I screamed loudly, an unbelievable and unimaginable fear crippling me. The mirror smashed spontaneously, shards landing in various parts of my body and I blacked out. Little did I know it would be the last thing I ever see.