Equal Originals

  It seems as if I’ve been staring in this mirror for hours; I know it’s only been minutes. Maybe even just a few seconds.

Something feels different. Something isn’t right. Is my hair really that long? Did my eyes always have this sparkle? Perhaps I’m just happier. That’s it, I’m happy, good for me.

“Are you almost done?” My roommate, Adonis, bangs on the door.

 Adonis is extremely rich. He owns his own tech company, but for some reason, he rents this crummy two-bedroom apartment.  I’ve never met anyone who gets aggravated with every living thing the way he does. With that being said, Adonis is a rich jagweed. 

I sigh, taking one last look in the mirror. I swing the door open, only to run face-first into Adonis’ fist. I  groan and rub my cheek.

“Awe, sorry man. That’s going to bruise in about,” he pauses, feigning a deep thought, “a couple of hours.” 

“What a jerk,” I mutter under my breath. I shake my head, still rubbing my cheek. 

“I'm going to work, “ I shout over my shoulder.  

In the car I drive with one hand, constantly switching the other one between my hair and my cheek. It doesn’t feel that long, but it’s definitely time to get a haircut. My cheek is really sore. Is it starting to bruise already?

I stop at a red light and look around me. The holidays are coming up. Almost every store has a huge sale going on and the one to my right is no different. There are pajama pants 80% off. 50 dollars. That is ridiculous. 

The light turns green and I glance back at the display windows. Before I drive off, I notice my reflection smiling back at me. I must have a permanent smile on my face, despite how bad I feel on the inside. Maybe I should come back and get some new pajamas.

I arrive at KK’s Furniture Store, my job. No, I do not own it. Yes, I know many people would call this a “dead-end job” for a 27-year-old man with another male roommate. Yes, it has been said to me before. However, here at KK’s, there is a lot of room for growth.

For example, today is the day that I get to open and close the store all by myself. It’s a big responsibility to have. They are trusting that I won’t steal anything, break anything, or mess up any sales. Not that we get a lot of customers anyway. 

Nowadays everyone orders things online. I get that it feels better to shop from home, but who in their right mind would order anything breakable rather than pick it up yourself to ensure that everything is still in one piece when it reaches your house.

I unlock the doors and do a quick walk-through before I open the store. Everything seems to be where it is supposed to be. I check the time and see that I still have 3 minutes before I have to unlock the doors and switch on the neon welcome sign. 

My hands start to sweat, I never thought I would be this nervous, then again I never thought I would consider buying a 50-dollar pair of pajama bottoms. 

Today has to go perfectly if I’m going to be promoted. I could really use the money, if anything, I could use it to buy out my rude roommate. Today needs to be perfect.

I start a fresh pot of coffee and pick up a spoon to check my appearance. Hopefully, my cheek will not bruise. A salesman with a purple face does not bode well for my big break.

My eyes still twinkle back at me. My face, thankfully, is not bruised. Although, it really does feel like it.

A long while after I open the store a few customers come in and I try my best to make a sale. At the end of the day, an old couple walks in and starts to look around.

“Hi, welcome to KK’s let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the front, by the register.”

The old couple smile at each other, "What great service,” they turn to face me, “thank you, young man.” 

When their eyes reach my face, their smiles fade. “You should put some ice on that dearie. It’ll help the pain and that ugly bruise,” the old lady states and the man nods in agreement. 

I reach for my face but stop myself. “Thanks for the advice, let me know if there is anything else I can help with.” 

At the front desk, I fix myself my third cup of coffee for today, once again using the spoon to check on my cheek. “It looks fine,” I whisper to myself, ”were they just calling me ugly?” I shake my head, I hardly think ice would fix that.

After they leave I begin to lock up the store. It’s been a great experience. Besides those last customers calling me ugly, I feel amazing about how everything played out fairly well. Speaking of that, am I really that ugly?

I make my way to the mirror aisle and choose one that shows the full body. I cradle my face in my hands, moving the skin around. Immediately I flinch from the contact. There is no visible bruise on my cheek. There is, however, a strange cut on my eyebrow. When did I get that? I am very clumsy on a normal day. I probably scratched myself without realizing it when I helped that family move a dresser to their truck. I shrug it off, close up, and head home.

“Do you need to use the bathroom?” I asked my roommate as soon as I entered our apartment. He shook his head no, not even bothering to look my way. 

I shower, get dressed, and stand in front of the mirror once more. “You did good today. Let’s do it again tomorrow.” I walk out of the bathroom and Adonis faces me from the couch.

“Wow man, I really did a number on you. You need to put ice on that asap.”

“A little old lady told me the same thing today,” I start, “but I don’t think your fist went that close to my eyebrow.” 

He looked at me in amusement. “If you think your eye is bruised you need to go back to school and take an anatomy class.” 

I rush back into the bathroom and slam the door. Slowly I look into the mirror. The expression on my face does not match my internal feelings. Am I smirking right now?

My hands fly frantically to my face. My lips feel slightly parted, my eyebrows feel raised and slightly arched. I do not feel the cut that I can clearly see in front of me. 

The mirror! My reflection is not doing what I am. Instead, I stare back at me with a lazy smirk. I wink back at me, but I do no such thing!

“Why? Why do you look at me this way? Who are you? Are you me?” I shout at myself through the mirror. I, or should I say he, brings a finger to his lips as if to shush me. 

“Mynford, are you okay? Adonis calls from behind the door. “You know what, never mind. I’m going to the coffee shop.” I could hear him mutter, “freak,” under his breath, but I don’t care in the slightest. How could I when I, no he, grins at me so easily?

“What do you want?” I whisper, my voice slightly shaking.

“It took you a while to figure it out. We are the same, but I think I would have gotten there faster.” His voice sounds like mine, but it’s distorted as if he is speaking to me from another dimension. 

“What do you want?” My voice came stronger than I thought it would.

A serious expression replaced the grin that was once on his face. “I need help,” he said.

Help with what? I voiced my thoughts and he shook his head with the smallest movement. 

“Come closer,” he whispered back at me. Hesitantly I move towards him.

“You need to come closer, lean towards me, or it won’t work.”

“Or what won’t work?” I question, yet for some reason I feel myself drawn to him, moving closer.

“I need you to say that you want to help me. You have to be close and say it out loud or I can’t be helped.” 

I shake my head, “This doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t need to! Please just do it,” his voice is just below a shout. 

I can sense the urgency in his voice. Quickly I lean towards him. “We are the same,” I lean close to the mirror, “of course I want to help you.”

As soon as I say those words his hand shoots out of the mirror and grabs the back of my neck.

“What are you doing, let me go!” I start to thrash around, trying my best to get out of his grip.

“I’m letting you help me!”

He pulls me until my face is squished against the mirror's glass. “Don’t worry,” he tries to reassure me, “it won’t hurt and it’s almost over.” 

I use all of my force to back away, but I am not strong enough. “How are you so strong?” All logic disappears out of the window as my panic sinks in. 

 He lets out an almost sinister laugh, “I work out three days a week for 6 hours a day. You should look into that once you’re on the other side.” 

With that, he yanks me through the mirror and shoves me square in the middle of my chest. I stumble back and he steps through the mirror. Taking a pause, I look around me. It’s pitch black around me and every few feet down there’s small windows of light. Where am I? Am I inside the mirror? I look towards him, towards me.

“Let me tell you what no one told me. Those patches of light are reflection windows. They are all of the places I can see my reflection, which is you, in that given time.” His voice sounds clear, exactly like mine. “Do whatever you want in your free time, and if you ever get bored, you know where to find me.” He winks and goes to walk out of the door.

“Wait!” I shout. I sound as if I'm drowning in gelled bubbles. I bang my fist on the reversed mirror, “Let me out! Don’t leave me here!” 

He pauses and turns around, “Oh yeah I forgot. That roommate of ours, Adonis right? He seems like a real jagweed. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” He turns off the light and closes the door on his way out. Leaving me surrounded by darkness. 

I find my way to another window of light. I see him standing there. Laughing with Adonis. He must be back from the store. He has to notice that’s not me, but why are they getting along so well. Adonis hates me. 

The other me suddenly looks directly at me. He throws what I can only assume is a towel at me. Leaving once again, alone in the dark.