The Mirror

“Are you okay, honey?”

My girlfriend’s fingers lace around mine, and she squeezes it gently. Her emerald green eyes stare at me with a concerned look, and the corners of her mouth dip slightly. She’s trying to hide her worried look, especially on our anniversary. 

“I- I think I just need some rest. I’ve got a nasty headache.”

I gently unravel my fingers from hers and jerk my chair back. Her hand instinctively supports my shoulders. I rest my hand on top of hers. 

“It’s alright dear, I’m just going to go upstairs and take an aspirin. You clean up the table.” I try to give her a reassuring smile, but my head is pounding. 

She takes a towel from the countertop and wipes some perspiration off my thick brows. I look into her eyes. Hiding behind her concern is disappointment. I stroke the hair behind her head. “Don’t worry, honey, it’s only noon. I’ll take a short nap to clear my head.” She smiles half-heartedly, and I walk upstairs to my bathroom. “Where’s the aspirin…” I mutter under my breath. I flip through the cupboard contents, my eyes scanning through the labels. Then, a bottle beside the sink catches my attention. “Ah, there it is-”

I freeze. My eyes cautiously and slowly peek up at the mirror behind the aspirin bottle. Fresh perspiration emerges on my forehead. “Oh my goodness-”

I stumble back so hard I hit my head against the wooden door behind me. It doesn’t change the image in front of me. My breathing pace speeds up and matches the pounding in my head. I slowly push myself up. Standing before me was a reflection of my girlfriend. Or at least, she looks exactly like my girlfriend. Except for a huge bloody gash cut through her right eye and eyelid. The reflection mimics all of my actions. I raise my right arm; it does the same. I open my mouth; it does the same. Then, I touch my right eye. I almost grimace at the expected pain I would feel. Nothing. The gash remained, and no blood came off. 

“What happened?”

I nearly fall back down onto the ground in surprise. Thankfully, my girlfriend steadies me. “I heard a huge bang, and I thought that you had fainted or something.” She stares quizzically at my frightened face. She stifles a chuckle. “What, did you see a ghost or something? Your face is pale and you’re sweating like crazy. Plus, your hands are shaking.”

My wide eyes glance at my hands. They were shaking uncontrollably. I grab my girlfriend’s arm and pulls her so that she stands in front of the mirror. “What do you see? In the mirror?” My girlfriend looks in the mirror. “I see myself and my distraught boyfriend,” she replies, obviously confused. I turn back at the mirror, and my mouth hangs open in disbelief. The fake reflection was gone. I rub my eyes with my sweaty hands. Still, nothing. “Did you really see a ghost? Why are you staring at the mirror so weirdly?” 

I hesitate. Was it just a hallucination? Due to my headache? It seemed very real though.

“I saw…you, in the mirror. I mean, before you came up. I saw your reflection instead of mine.” My girlfriend’s mouth opens slightly. Her brows furrow with disbelief. “You… saw me?”

I take a deep breath and exhale. “The crazy part was, there was a huge gash that cut through your right eye. Blood was flowing out through the gash.” I examine my girlfriend’s expression. Her mouth gapes open, and she covers it with her left hand. Her right hand touches her right eye. “I, I don’t know what to say.” I can feel her worrying about her eye, feel how horrified she must be. My hands go to comfort her. Suddenly, she leans her head back… and laughs. “THAT is the funniest thing I have heard. You saw my reflection, hahaha, in, gasp, the mirror. AND my eye was gushing out blood, hicc, like a faucet or something? Do you, gasp, expect me to believe that?” She pauses to catch her breath, and I just stare at her, dumbfounded. “You’ve always been a very creative person, Clark. But this? This is absurd. I’m much more willing to believe that your headache caused this.” She eyes the bottle of aspirin and shakes out two pills. “Here,” she says. “Take this, then take a nap. It’ll all be over when you wake up. Perhaps you fainted, and that was your dream!” I take the aspirin with my trembling hands. Then I sigh. “Y-you’re probably right, babe. I’ll go lie down on the couch for a bit.” She plants a kiss on my sweaty cheek. “I’ll be outside tending to the garden. If you need anything, just knock on the window.” 

She steps out of the bathroom and starts to head downstairs. I immediately follow her, not wanting to look at the mirror another time. After taking the aspirin, my head feels a bit clearer. I lie down on the living room couch and hear the front door open and close. 

Her eye scratched bloody? What a bunch of baloney. I almost chuckle to myself. What could possibly even do that to-- I suddenly jolt up. Scratch. Cat. The cat lady next door! She walks her cat every day at one o’clock! I pull out my cell phone and dial the lady’s number. 

Come on, pick up, pick up!

“Hello?”

A wave of relief washes over me. “Hi, Mrs. Killsonburg?”

“Yes? Are you the young man next door?”

“Yes, I am. I was wondering if you’re going to walk your cat today?”

The lady chuckles on the other side. “Why, of course. It’s lovely weather today.”

My heart sinks. “Um, it seems quite windy today. Are you sure your cat will be alright?” It isn’t a lie. The wind outside is howling. There’s an awkward silence, and I was beginning to think that the old lady hung up on me.

“It seems like Mr.Leroy really wants to be outside today. He’s especially restless.”

Beads of sweat begin to form on my forehead, though I quickly wipe them with the back of my hand. “Look Mrs. Killsonburg, this is going to sound super crazy,” I take a deep breath. “But I think your cat might attack my girlfriend.”

There’s a long pause. This one is even longer than before. 

“Mr.Leroy is not the type of cat that will attack strangers, and especially not those that he has see,” Mrs.Killsonburg replies defensively.

“Could you perhaps-”

“Sorry young man, I think I’m going to have to call you back. Mr.Leroy is scratching at the door. Or maybe, if you come outside, I’ll chat with you. I’ll be right there.”

“Wait-”

BEEP BEEP.

“Crap!” I throw my phone down onto the sofa. I gotta change into something presentable and stop that old lady with her cat before it’s- 

Wait a second. A voice speaks inside my head. Did you really just try to stop an old lady from walking her cat? She was your neighbor too. Do you have a right to be this nosy? All because of some reflection that you saw?

I plant my face inside the palms of my hands. What to do, what to do? There is an option. I have to go back and look at the mirror. If I see my reflection, then I’m just being crazy and paranoid. If I see my girlfriend’s messed-up eye, then I have to rush out the door and stop that lady. It’s a solid plan. I try to get up, but my legs don’t move. Instead, they’re shaking on the spot. Am I, really this scared? Ok, take a deep breath. One, two, THREE!

With a sudden rush of adrenaline, I boost myself off the sofa and storm up the stairs, two at a time. Unfortunately, my wits run dry as I enter the bathroom. Ok now, left side first, turn your head, slowly, slowly… 

It’s my girlfriend’s face.

Sweat falls into my right eye, and I wince at the saltiness. And then when I open it, I see. In the reflection. Not just one gash. But three. It’s almost screaming at me. LOOK AT THIS FACE. THIS IS YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S FACE. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. Panic rampages in my mind, and I’m planted in front of my mirror. MOVE MOVE MOVE. YOU HAVE TO STOP THAT LADY! My legs are wobbling from fear, and I nearly fall down the stairs as I rush to the front door. Without even wearing my shoes, I fling open the door. A huge gush of wind drives my eyes closed, and when I open them, my arms fall to my side. 

My girlfriend clutching her right eye. The old lady grabbing her black cat and pulling him away. The cat still swinging around his paw. And me, standing at the doorway, watching it all. 

Two weeks later.

“So, what’d you call me here for?”

Joe sips at his smoothie and twirls the straw with his fingers. I sip my tea. 

“I’ll get straight to the point then,” I say. “I think there’s something weird with me.”

“Please elaborate.” Joe waves his hand at me, motioning for me to keep going. I shift uneasily in my seat. 

“Well, every time I look in the mirror, I see someone else instead of my reflection. They’re all people I know. Some of them I know very well, like my girlfriend.” I grimace when I say that. “Other people I don’t know too well, like the lady next door with her cat. Each time, these people have an injury on their bodies. And on that same day, they get the mutilation that I saw.” 

Joe looks at me with widened eyes. The straw drops out from between his mouth. “Ok… why did you call me over? Did you see ME in that mirror?”

“Well, I haven’t actually seen a mirror in a week now. I’m scared to see other scarred people in there.” My mouth tightens. “I… I can’t even do much to save them. Nobody believes me when I tell them anyways. I used to be so good at saving people’s lives as a firefighter, but now…”

Joe puts a hand on my shoulder. “Hey. That’s alright. You don’t have to save everyone.” He then leans back on his chair. “You don’t feel… guilt, do you?” 

I pause. “What do you mean by that?” 

Joe ponders the question. “You know, I’m almost certain that these people would have gotten injured whether you saw their image or not. So don’t feel like you caused them to be hurt or to suffer.” Admittedly, this comforts me a little. 

“Joe, I want you to look in a mirror with me.” 

This surprises him a bit. “Why?”

“I have some reason to believe that if there’s another person in the mirror with me, then I won’t see the image. Please. I want to see what I look like.” Joe sighs a bit at the weird request. “Alright, I’ll go upstairs with you. I know your girlfriend’s in the hospital. This is the least I can do.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

Joe follows me up to my bathroom and stands next to me. We both look in the mirror. For the first time in two weeks, I see what I look like. “You look great,” Joe smiles at me. “But seriously, couldn’t you have looked in a window or something?” I shake my head. “Even with other people reflected, I can’t see myself. Except in this mirror.” 

Joe smiles, although I can see the doubts and suspicion in his mind. He looks at his watch. “Oh shoot, I’m late for my meeting. Totally lost track of time. I gotta rush off. I’ll catch you later!”

“Alright, see you soon,” I answer, not fully processing what he said. I was too immersed in my reflection. Suddenly, my face morphs into Joe’s face, and I realize my mistake. “Oh no…” In the mirror, I see Joe. Except his right arm is missing. It’s completely gone. “JOE!” I sprint down the stairs. He’s gone. I slip into my shoes and fling open the door. Joe’s already halfway down the street. Then I look above him. 

Construction. That house is renovating its roof… 

Then I take a closer look. A chainsaw.

I sprint down the street. My heart and head are pounding. My legs feel heavy and stiff like there are chains holding them down. 

You can’t save anyone. A voice screams. You are incompetent. 

No. I’m. Not. I clench my teeth. I can’t just stand here watching anymore. Can’t just witness his arm get severed off. I have to stop this nonsense. Even if I have to-

I fling myself forward. It really is just like the movies. Time slows down. I shove Joe forward with my weight, slamming into his back, and knocking the air out of me. We both fall forward onto the concrete sidewalk, and my vision blacks out.

---

I wake up in a hospital bed. Tubes connect me to various machines. Inside my nose, into my arm- Wait. I open my eyes suddenly and crane my neck painfully to face my right side. My mouth drops open and I scream. Nurses and doctors rush to my side almost immediately. The doctor yells for someone to put me to sleep, that my state wasn’t stable enough. But all I could think about before I blacked out again was:

My right arm is gone.

---

Two months later.

It’s been two months since I lost my right arm. 

I think I basically know how the mirror magic works now. I can see if there’s anyone that I know who will suffer an injury. If I can save them, I get the wound instead. It must be some kind of twisted fate wizardry, but it never fails to happen. 

I’m no longer scared of seeing the damaged people reflected back at me. Sometimes, I feel sad. Other times, disgusted. I saved a couple of people from their injuries, and I’ve lost an ear and an eye now. But I’ve learned to let go. I’m not an invincible master of fate. I can’t keep giving an eye for an eye. I’m human. There’s only so much that I can do as one person. That’s why I’m a fireman. 

Of course, nobody on my team really believes that I can see premonitions. But I’m on good terms with them. We’ve saved quite a few lives together, and I have to say that it’s helped me relieve some mental stress. None of them were the mirror images that I saw though. 

And now, I stare at today’s image. It’s not like any of the other ones that I’ve seen. The same feeling I had months ago with my wife has returned. The same beads of sweat on my forehead. The same shaking hands. 

This time, the one in the mirror is me.