Reflection
03.10.11
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the ugliest of them all?
Charlotte stood in the bathroom, looking at her reflection in disgust. No wonder he had left her – who could love a face like this? She scrutinised herself like never before and found flaw after flaw. Lacklustre skin with blotchy patches that make-up never seemed to cover; eyes that were too small and sunken, a jawline that was too wide, hair that was too limp. She left the house to go to work, but could not escape her reflection. Shiny surfaces, shop windows, puddles on the pavement – all conspired to taunt her throughout the day, reminding her of how hideous she was. By the time she returned home, she was in a state of extreme agitation. She grabbed a marble paperweight from the living room and made for the bathroom.
I hate you.
She stood in front of the mirror, breathing in short and shallow bursts, her fingers clenched around the paperweight tightly enough to make the knuckles turn white. She glared at the Charlotte on the other side of the mirror, flashes of unhappy memories going through her head. The break up, the horror in the ensuing weeks until he could find another place to live, the way he couldn’t even look at her during that time. The look of relief – of joy – on his face on the day that he actually moved out. All that pain that she had been through, and here was the culprit, right here in the bathroom, glaring back at her from behind the looking glass.
It’s all your fault.
Charlotte’s anger towards her reflection escalated. Hate-filled thoughts flooded her head at such a rate that she could hear her own heartbeat pounding through her skull. The painful memories were pushed away as these new images vied for the forefront of her mind, images of mirror shards and blood, of a shattered reflection powerless to hurt her any more. She lifted the paperweight above her shoulder, ready to strike the cowering woman in the mirror.
Wait. Cowering?
She dropped the paperweight in shock. The other woman stood with her hands up by her face, as if to shield herself from the blow. Charlotte made a waving motion with her arms; her reflection did not copy the movement but instead remained in her defensive stance, trembling a little. Charlotte moved to one side, stepping away from the mirror. The reflection still didn’t move, but her eyes darted to one side in apparent terror. Charlotte stepped in front of the mirror again. Her reflection – if she could still call it that – made a quick motion to one side, as if trying to escape the confines of the mirror, but was stopped by some invisible barrier.
She’s trapped.
Charlotte left the room and ran to the bedroom. She stood in front of the mirror on her dresser and screamed. The other Charlotte was there, but her surroundings were not those of the bedroom; the other woman was still in the bathroom, shaking and now crying. Charlotte ran to the living room and rummaged through her handbag until she found her face powder compact. She flipped it open and looked into its mirror. The bathroom woman looked back at her from there too.
This cannot be happening. I’m seeing things. I just need to calm down a little, that’s all.
She decided to put the television on and watch something mindless for a while. As much as she tried to, she couldn’t ignore the faint image of the bathroom woman in the top corner of the television, where the light from the lamp hit it. Charlotte switched the TV off and went to the kitchen; there were no reflective surfaces there. She made herself a cup of tea and drank it slowly, then decided she was calm enough to venture into the bathroom again. What she saw there worried her even further.
She’s so…thin.
The other woman’s cheeks looked sunken, and her eyes were bloodshot. Her collarbone looked more prominent than it had been, and her skin had acquired a grey tone. She looked at Charlotte, eyes as wide as they would go, pleading.
What should I do?
But no answer was forthcoming. Charlotte stood there for a while, horrified at how the bathroom Charlotte’s condition was worsening at such a rate that the deterioration was visible. Tears ran from the girl’s eyes and she wrung her hands. Charlotte could think of only one thing to do.
I have to put her out of her misery.
Her eye fell to the paperweight she had dropped earlier. She picked it up and flung it towards the pitiful creature as hard as she could. The mirror smashed and the shards fell into the sink and onto the bathroom floor. Charlotte took a good look at the mirror’s pieces – there was nothing in them. The bathroom girl was gone, but her own reflection hadn’t come back. She checked the other mirrors of the house; they were all blank.
I’m not sure what happened there.
Charlotte picked up her purse and keys and left the house – whatever had happened, one thing was for sure: she needed a glass of wine. Or five. She walked towards the shops, stopping at the main road to wait for the lights to change. It was quiet; there was only a single car approaching, which slowed down for the red light that had just come on. She walked into the street.
The driver, seeing no one, sped up and ran through the red light, cursing the local council for not fixing the potholes.
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Tags: Flash Fiction, fridayflash, Horror, Mirror, Writing
Oh, well done. I was thinking of a very different ending; I like yours much better.
Oh welcome back Mazzz we’ve missed you. This is darkly delicious. Love it.
Your ending surprised me too. As always, loved the story. You were missed!
Like I said on Twitter, this was really thought-provoking. It says a lot about self-loathing and what it can do to a person.
Glad to read you again! As usual, unique, quirky, surprising and totally satisfying.
That was brilliantly done. And I agree..very thought provoking.
Welcome back! and a great entry to come back with 🙂 So, was the reflection the real her? Had she been dead for a while, or did she die in the street? Lots of interesting questions around this one, it really makes you think.
Mirrors are simply not to be trusted. I like this a lot.
Absolutely brilliant! You had me hooked from the beginning and carried me through until the end. Loved it!
Horror of horrors! And so well written. A fantastic piece.
Excellent story! This one dragged me in and didn’t let go. Fantastic ending!
Wow. That is frightening on so many levels. I will never judge mt reflection again. In fact, I might avoid mirrors for a while…
Super! It has suspense, mytery, a little bit of horror even; oh, and a really good ending.
Welcome back!
Absolutely outstanding story Maria! I realized at the end that I was leaning forward, as if that was going to help her solve her problem somehow. Bravo!
Brilliant and harsh. Twilight Zone good.
Yassou Maria.
Brilliant story, the mirror doesn’t lie, if she has no reflection.. she is no longer there. A nice blend of realism/emotion/paranormal.
It is good to see you back, Mazz. Such a strong story and very moving.
Adam B @revhappiness
I liked how this piece came full circle. First she despises herself, then she wants to protect herself, then she wants to kill herself-all the while she is dead and reliving a horrible moment in her life. I really enjoyed this story and it speaks to the emotions that one goes through and feels during a bad breakup. Very relatable.
The only question I have is why she, or why her ghost, would rock the car no more than a pot hole. I could have misread it and the pot holes are entirely real and she’s an afterthought, the repeating haunting that Lara read into it. For me the meat is in the first half, that cycle of self-loathing that I’ve gone through and I’m sure most folks have experienced to some degree.
Wonderful exploration of the character, and the mirror idea; and quite an imaginative dropping off point.
Well done and thanks.
That was magical. That’s one of the most innovative uses of mirrors and reflections that I’ve ever read.
Really well done.
Love this ghost story. A nice take on it…nice twist on the end of it, too.
Something about this reminded me of The Yellow Wallpaper. Very, very nice writing!
Wow, this was really creepy. Says a lot about how much we depend on something so simple as a reflection.
Nice! Dark, twisting and really makes you think. Avoids being obvious as well. =)
Intriguing! I like how this morphs from anger and annoyance into curiosity and the ending feels well worked into the opening and it really does make you think.
Wow, she popped herself right of existence. I really felt for her.
~jon
Creepy cool yarn with a clever end.