A Fractured Mirror

Jenny sat on her filthy sofa playing her umpteenth round of Forest Fighters. The only light came from the tv screen, which was a small blessing. The mess only stressed her out. Her small apartment reeked, but she couldn’t tell. She hadn’t left in months, and she thought she never would. 

Why leave when she could get everything she could ever want delivered right to her door? The outside world was not her friend. It never had been. The outside world is where pain and rejection happened. No one could hurt her here. Well, except for herself. 

The doorbell rang. That must be the food she ordered. Jenny waited the obligatory three minutes until she was sure no one was at the door. She tipped on the app and left explicit instructions not to linger. Jenny opened the door. A small parcel sat on her welcome mat that was definitely not food. She looked around. No one was there. She picked the package up, closed the door, and sealed the three locks. 

Jenny pushed bottles and empty containers of food off her coffee table and set the package down. The package had no information on it, and she doubted it was hers. She should turn it in to the apartment manager, but that would mean interacting with someone, or worse, having to leave her apartment. 

Jenny’s curiosity got the better of her, and she pulled out a pair of knitting shears. She cut the box open and pulled the packing paper out. An ornate silver hand mirror sat on a bed of packing peanuts, covered in bubble wrap. Jenny took it delicately and unwrapped it. Mother of pearl embellished the handle, and though she hated seeing her reflection, she felt compelled to look into it.

Jenny’s long black hair sat atop her head like a rat’s nest. Bad acne dotted her pale skin in places. Dark circles ringed her eyes. It made her sick to see her like this. What had gone wrong? When had she stopped caring?

The mirror cracked down the middle, and she almost dropped it. A woman stood over her shoulder and Jenny wheeled around, but no one was there. She put the mirror down, her heart racing. Was the thing laced with drugs? No, this was her safe place. Nothing could hurt her here. 

Jenny picked the mirror back up and hesitantly held it to her face. The woman was there, standing behind her left shoulder. Again, she turned, but there was no one there. The woman only existed in the mirror. Jenny checked for electronics, but there were none. 

“Hello?” she asked. 

“Don’t talk to me,” the woman said. Her voice sounded familiar, but she didn’t recognize the woman. Her cheeks were puffy from crying, her nails so long they curled in on themselves. The woman chewed on her cheek so hard that when she spoke, blood came out of her mouth.

“You’re in my apartment,” Jenny said. “I’ll talk to you if I want to.”

“Your apartment?” The woman asked. She scoffed. “Of course you’d think that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jenny asked. She sighed and put the mirror down. “Great, I’ve finally gone crazy.”

No response. 

Jenny held the mirror back up. 

“If you’re crazy, what does that make me?” the woman asked. 

“A figment of my imagination? A dream?”

“I know you hate me,” the woman said, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not real.”

“So what are you then?” Jenny asked. “Do you have a name?”

“My name’s Jen,” the woman said. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m you. The you you can’t stand.”

“If you’re me, then when is the last time we went outside?”

“February 5th,” Jen said. “Our appendix burst, and we tried to tough it out. The apartment manager, that bitch with the dogs, heard us screaming and came in.”

“She had no right,” Jenny said. “I would have been fine.”

“Instead, she took us to the hospital,” Jen said.

Jenny shuddered at the memory. So many people, so much noise, everything cast in that fluorescent light that hurt her eyes. 

“You really are me,” Jenny said. “Why are you here?”

“I…I don’t know. I think maybe we got tired of being alone and there’s only one person we can stand to be around.”

Jenny snorted. “That sounds like me. Why do you look like that? You’re hideous.”

The woman self-consciously groomed her hair with her overgrown nails, only making the hair worse. “Have you looked in the mirror recently? I’m a reflection of you. You always do this. Blame me for something that’s your fault.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” Jenny said. “Can you just go away? I can’t stand to look at you.”

“I…I think that’s the problem. All you do is run from me. I never wanted to be like this. I just…wanted to be safe.”

“We are safe,” Jenny said. “Nothing can hurt us here. We have everything we could ever need.”

“What about love?” Jen asked. “What about touch or connection? What about sunshine?” The woman touched her face, the long nails drawing blood. “I miss sunshine. Everything in here is so cold, so lifeless.”

“We are not going outside, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Jenny said. 

“What are you so afraid of?” The woman asked. 

Jenny scowled and tossed the mirror back into the box. She might be going crazy, but the choice was still hers whether to indulge in the crazy. Jenny picked up the controller and resumed her game. Five minutes in, she sighed and set the controller down. She picked up the mirror.

Another crack split the mirror into three unequal pieces of a pie. The ratty woman dominated the largest. One piece showed her reflection. The third piece held a woman she didn’t recognize. The woman stood tall, her long black hair curled and healthy. A smile graced her face, as though she found this whole thing amusing. 

“Let me guess,” Jenny said, “you’re me too.”

“You catch on quick. My name’s Jenine. I’m you, as you could be if you conquered your demons. I didn’t like how you were speaking to Jen.”

“She’s me,” Jenny said. “I can talk to her however I please.”

“Your actions have consequences, or have you forgotten that? You think as long as you stay here, nothing can hurt you, but you hurt yourself every day. This is no way to live.”

“I’m happy here,” Jenny said. 

“No, you’re comfortable. There’s a difference. No one can get past that tough exterior, which means it’s up to you to get yourself out of this hole you’ve dug. I can help, but only if you let me.”

Jenny bit her lip. She could always shatter the mirror, leave this silly hallucination behind her, but…Jenine was right. Something had to change. 

“What do I do?” Jenny asked. 

Jenine flashed her a bright smile. “It won’t be easy. It involves going back, back to the source. I can’t go with you because I exist in the future, but there is someone who can help. An old friend.”

The mirror glazed over and when it cleared; she was watching a scene from her childhood, a scene she buried long ago. 

“Children are better seen not heard,” her mother said. “Or better yet, not seen or heard. Just stay in your room and don’t come out until I say so. If I hear one peep out of you, then it’s the closet. Do you understand?”

Jenny started to speak, but her mother snapped her fingers. Jenny simply nodded and walked to her room. The heavy deadbolt slid home on the other side of the door. She crawled into a ball on the floor and hugged her knees. She was so alone. No one wanted her.

At least she had Geraldine. 

Her imaginary friend Geraldine showed up whenever she was in trouble. Two pink horns curled around her rainbow hair. She wore a long white robe, fringed in gold. How had she forgotten about Geraldine? She hadn’t seen her in years. 

“It’s okay, dear,” Geraldine said. “Hurt people hurt people. Your mother is deeply unwell.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Jenny said. “I shouldn’t have gone outside. Nothing bad can happen if I just stay in here.”

“I hear talking,” her mother screamed from the other room. 

Jenny shut her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. Geraldine leaned down and wrapped her in an embrace. 

“If there is one thing you must know, it is that none of this is your fault. She has taught you to be quiet, to hide away, but that was a long time ago. She can’t hurt you anymore. It’s time to leave your monsters in the past where they belong.”

“I can’t,” Jenny sniffled. “This is all I have. Who am I without this pain?”

“I don’t know,” Geraldine said, “but I think it’s time to find out. You’re allowed to take up space. Your voice deserves to be heard. You’re not alone. You never were.”

“But what if it’s painful?” Jenny asked. “What if it’s too late for me to figure out how to be normal?”

“It will be painful. Things will get worse before they get better. I can’t guarantee the world outside your door won’t hurt you, but there is no pleasure without pain. Cut off one and you cut off the other. It’s time to take a chance on yourself. It’s time to take the difficult step.”

“Are you coming with me?” Jenny asked.

Geraldine gave her a sad smile. “You created me. You needed someone to be gentle with you. In a way, I’ll always be with you, but it’s time for you to learn to be gentle with yourself. I can’t do the work for you.”

“I can’t do it without you,” Jenny said. 

Geraldine picked her up and wiped away her tears. “Yes, you can. You have to.”

The mirror returned to normal. No cracks. No versions of herself. Jenny once again stared at her own reflection, alone in her apartment. She had grown used to being alone, used to her four walls, but now her apartment felt small. 

Jenny walked to the bathroom and brushed her hair and teeth. She changed clothes. She stood in front of the door to outside, her palms sweaty. Her heart raced in her chest. How easy would it be to just go play more videogames? She could always go out tomorrow. 

No. Jenny undid the locks, one for each version of herself. The rat, sitting in her own filth. The beauty, the potential she never fulfilled. The imaginary friend, her strength when she had none. Her door swiveled open, letting in the sun. 

No going back now, only forward.

Jenny stepped into the sun. At first it was blinding, but her eyes adjusted. She took in the blue sky; the trees blowing in the wind; the birds chirping. It was all more beautiful than she remembered, but still it terrified her. So much open space. She craved to run back inside, lock the door, and bury herself beneath a pile of blankets. 

A hand gently squeezed hers, the reminder she wasn’t alone. Jenny took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. The sun beat down on her, forcing her to take off her heavy sweater. She reveled in the warmth of it all, wondering what it was exactly she had feared. Jenny knew her skin wasn’t used to the rays. She would burn in no time, but she remembered Geraldine’s words. There can be no pleasure without pain. 

These next few days were going to be painful, but the pain she chose was ten times better than the pain she didn’t. One of her neighbors walked by with his dog and she scurried inside, only breathing once she locked the door. 

Jenny laughed, her heart racing. Small steps, she told herself. Only a few minutes, but she might as well have climbed a mountain. She picked up the mirror. Sure enough, her skin had turned pink. She looked like a lobster. That would hurt tomorrow, but she didn’t care. It was a reminder. 

She went outside and she could do it again.