Reflection

The hair was honey blonde, the eyes a dark brown, tall with an hourglass figure. It was mine, but something was wrong with it. I had stared at it for the past thirty minutes trying to decide what had changed, but I couldn’t see it. 

Two days ago, I had gone antiquing and found a beautiful ornate mirror on a stand and just had to have it. It would fit perfectly in my bedroom. The glum man behind the counter had just frowned and rung me up. He barely said two words and then I loaded it into my car and took it home. 

Now as I stared at it I couldn’t figure out why it seemed wrong. I went back into the bathroom and looked at myself in that mirror, but couldn’t see what the change was, I just could feel it was different. I touched up my hair and then walked back into the bedroom and looked at myself. I looked ready and good. A good hair day, my clothes hung just right. I’m not sure I had ever pulled myself together quite this well before. I nodded to my reflection, even if something was off it didn’t look bad, so I left. 

At work that day I felt good. I knew I could do my job and I had always been competent, but today was a very important meeting and while I was nervous, I felt good. I went into the meeting confident. I didn’t stutter or hesitate. All of my hard work paid off and my boss looked pleased. I shook hands and then went off to finish for the day. 

Before leaving work I needed to use the restroom, so I went and as I washed my hands I glanced up at myself and frowned. I looked okay, but not quite as good as this morning when looking in the mirror. I deflated a bit, hurried and grabbed my stuff and drove home.

Once inside my door I collapsed upon my couch and fell over with my face into a pillow. Today had gone so well. I’d felt like all those other Office women who always looked confident and sure of themselves, bit now I wasn’t so sure. 

I sighed and got up and went to my room to change. I tried not to look in the mirror or even in that direction, but I couldn’t seem to stay away. I stood there in my underwear looking at myself critically. 

I looked the same. Love handles, meaty thighs, and the red spot just starting to form on my jaw. Not bad overall I thought to myself but still I looked different than I did at work in the bathroom. Was it harsher lighting? No, I just looked maybe a bit taller. I threw my hands up in frustration and wandered over to pull out my PJs and put them on. 

I made dinner and went through my nightly routine a few hours later and refused to look in the mirror as I climbed into bed. And then I was asleep. 

I woke up to my alarm the next morning and rolled out of bed. I soon was dressed and almost ready for work. I finished the last few touches to my makeup and nodded to myself. I didn’t look terrible. I went to look in The Mirror and what I saw surprised me. I couldn’t help but grin. I looked good again. 

Tall. 

Straight.

Elegant.

I liked it. I went to work feeling better than ever.

By the time I got home I felt worse than ever. Someone had mentioned me in a conversation I probably want suppose to overhear. I can still remember the words. 

“She is just so so. I mean a little more confidence isn’t going to make you any prettier.”

The other girl had said, “I know and her hair is always pulled up. She never puts any effort into it. It’s just a mess of a ponytail.”

They weren’t wrong. My hair was always a mess. I was being stupid. How could I expect to be pretty and liked if my looks hadn’t been improved. I dragged my feet to my room and threw on my sweat pants and a t-shirt. It was that kind of a day. As a walked toward the door of my bedroom I paused and looked over at the mirror. From this distance I didn’t look too bad. 

I stared. My hair looked amazing. I was curled and hung beautifully and had laying that was all just perfection. I reached up and touched my hair. I could feel the ponytail, I just couldn’t see it. I raced to the bathroom and stared. What was wrong with me? I must be hallucinating. How could a mirror do that?

I slowly crept toward the mirror keeping myself out of the reflection. Once I was standing next to it I slowly reached my hand out in front of the mirror. My hand looked normal. I slowly stepped out in front of the mirror. 

And gaped. 

I wanted that hair. I reached into my pocket and slowly pulled out my phone. Then. I snapped a picture. I called a hairstylist and got an appointment for the next day. 

I took the day off work and went to the hair stylist and showed her the picture. She cut it and took the time to teach me how to style my hair. I felt amazing. 

I practically skipped back to the apartment. As I looked in the mirror again and I looked good. 

At work the next day my eyebrows were made fun of and I rushed home to figure out how to fix them. I spent that night making my eyebrows perfect. And then at work they mentioned the lack of accessories. Oddly the mirror continued to show me how to change so I would become better. After a week people stopped talking about my appearance. But I couldn’t stop. 

I stared at the mirror and saw the love handles and then saw how I would look without. How I would look with bigger boobs If I had a smaller nose. I couldn’t stop looking and I couldn’t stop wishing I looked better. 

I continued to go to work each day looking good, but I desired perfection and I grew more frustrated with the realization that surgery would cost so much. That those changes would take so much time and effort to achieve. I began to feel depressed when I looked in the mirror. 

One night as I was staring at my figure between the mirror in the bedroom and the one in the bathroom, I heard a knock to my door. I looked through the peephole and saw my best friend and coworker, Carol, standing at the door. I didn’t want her to see me such a mess. I didn’t want her to know how much better I could be. 

The knock came again and then she said, “Girl, I know you are in there. Answer the door.”

When I still didn’t answer she pounded harder and then shouted, “I’ll call the cops just to break down the door and make sure you are alright.”

I sighed. My shoulders slumped and I gripped the knob. My hand trembled as I turned it and eventually, I pulled the door open. Carol stormed in. 

“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks except for work. You keep giving excuses to not go out and then go home. At first, I thought you had a boyfriend, but you don’t seem happy, so whatever is going on you are going to explain and I am going to help you,” Carol said as she shut the door behind her and I backed up a few steps. 

I couldn’t help myself. I began to cry. Carol paused and then wrapped her arm around me and pulled me toward the couch. 

“Tell me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to not see you, I just…” I paused and glanced over toward the bedroom and Carol followed my eyes. 

“The bedroom?”

I nodded. She stood and took my hand and pulled me along behind her as she stalked toward the bedroom. She pushed open the door and scanned the room. A furrow formed between her eyes and then she glanced at me and frowned. 

“I’m not sure what is wrong in the bedroom.”

I took a deep breath. 

And then slowly breathed out. 

“Come here,” I said and then I pulled her toward the mirror. I avoided having either of us appear in the reflection unsure and unprepared for what would be seen. 

“The mirror?”

“Yeah, I have a question for you. Stand right here,” I said as I directed her to stand outside of the reflection, but where she could see mine. “Now what do you see when you look at me?”

Carol scratched her head and furrowed her brow again. “You. Am I supposed to see anything else?”

I trembled and looked at myself. The beautiful being that I wanted to be stared back. 

“I don’t look any different?”

“No, are you feeling okay?”

I burst into tears again. I couldn’t seem to control myself. 

“Don’t you think I should look better? Biggers boobs, skinnier waste and stuff like that?”

“What? What are you talking about? Why would you want to change how you look? You look amazing. Is that what this is all about?”

She paused and looked at me for a few minutes while I squirmed in place. “I always wanted to look like you. The perfect figure, beautiful hair, and one of the best smiles I’ve ever seen. Why would you need to be different.”

I looked up at the ceiling as I tried to get the tears to stop. “I just heard some people at work talking and I couldn’t help but notice what was wrong with me after that.”

“You mean Megan and Alice’s gossip? They talk bad about everyone and the worst about the people they are the most jealous of. You shouldn’t let what they say get to you.”

I glanced at Carol sharply. “What? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” My head was spinning. I could still see them in my mind sneering and laughing at me, but then I walked away from the mirror and to the bathroom to look at myself as I was. I was tall and curvy and fairly pretty. I wanted to get frustrated with the too large nose and love handles, but I took a deep breath and stared at myself harder. 

Carol slowly walked toward the bathroom with a worried look on her face. 

I smiled at Carol with a trembling smile and she took a few more steps toward me and wrapped her arms around me. 

“I think you might be right,” I whispered. “I’m not ugly. I’m good enough.”

“Yeah, you are.”

My head spun more and all I could think was that mirror had to go. It was messing with my head and I couldn’t see myself anymore for all the changes. I picked up my hairbrush from off of the countertop and wandered back into the bedroom and then hurdled the brush directly at the mirror. The mirror broke with a crash.

“What are you doing,” Carol said as she hurried after me. 

“Getting rid of the problem.”

“Okay,” Carol said as she eyed me. 

“Come on let’s go burn it,” I said. 

We gathered the pieces together and then loaded them into a garbage can. I carried the mirror stand and Carol carried the bag of pieces and we loaded them into the car. I drove until we were outside the city and then I lit the wood on fire. I stood there until it burned to ash and then Carol and I wandered off to get a drink.

The next morning was a Saturday and I woke up hung over and miserable, but I felt a lightness inside me. I didn’t have to worry about the perfection anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and took care of myself. And when I eventually wandered back into the bedroom, I noticed a mirror standing across the room like last night was just a dream. I couldn’t move. I felt it beckon me, call to me, to look and see what I could do better. I trembled with desire to look and desire to run. 

Had I just dreamed the night before? Had I never smashed the mirror and burnt it? And then I thought of Carol. I rushed to my nightstand and picked up my phone and called Carol. It rang and rang and rang.

“Hello?”

“Carol, I have a really strange question to ask.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Did we destroy a mirror last night?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you regret it. You seemed quite determined to destroy it completely last night.”

“Carol I’m looking at the mirror right now.”

“What? Wait, I’m coming over right now.”

The phone clicked and I sat there unable to take my eyes off of the mirror. I craved it and I feared it. I couldn’t move and then a knock came to the door. I rushed out of the bedroom and opened the front door quickly. I dragged Carol back into the bedroom and she gasped.

“This isn’t possible. Is this some kind of prank,” she asked and then she looked at me and said, “No not a prank then.”

I’m not sure what she saw on my face, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was terror. 

“I have to take it back. I don’t want it.”

Carol looked at me for a moment and then said, “What is wrong with the mirror? Why do you hate it so much? It’s pretty and looks like an antique.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Carol marched over and stood in front of it. 

“Wait,” I cried out, but it was too late as Carol looked into the mirror.

Her eyes went wide. 

Her mouth opened in an unattractive gape. 

“That is not what I look like.”

“I know. I don’t know how it works, but I don’t want to see it anymore,” I said.

“Yeah, I think I understand, let’s take it back.” 

We looked at each other and nodded and then together we carried it from my home and back to my car. Then we drove toward the antique shop. We arrived and unloaded the cargo and we carried it inside. 

The same man sat behind the counter and watched us with his tired eyes. 

“Back again,” he said.

“Yes, I would like to return this,” I said. 

He nodded. “What do you want for it?”

“No, nothing. I just don’t want to ever see it again.”

He smiled a slow twisted smile and said, “Not what you really wanted huh.” And then instructed them to take it to the back and cover it with a large blanket. 

As Carol and I walked out of the store the twisted smile never left his face and I shuddered. I swore to myself I would never go back. 

When I woke each morning after that I would quickly glance toward the empty space where the mirror once stood and breathe a sigh of relief. 

The mirror was gone.