I think this is the first short story I've ever written just because... Any who, feel free to be harsh! =]
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The looking glass mirror hanging over the vanity table in the hall was a very curious thing indeed.
An old lady could look into the mirror and find herself looking young and beautiful through the eyes of society. A young man could see every ambition he ever wanted to fulfill. Children never had reflections and the wolves in sheep’s clothing were shown as they truly are. Yet not a single one of these people would take the time to actually look in the mirror and it would be doubtful that the elderly woman who owned the mirror knew of its existence.
Her granddaughter knew of its existence— all too well. She first noticed the mirror when she had been sitting on the love seat in the living room. She saw the mirror reflecting living room with perfect detail, but not her. She was no where to be seen. However the crayons and paper she had on the coffee table in front of her were there, and the cherry red crayon she held in her hand was floating in the air above the paper.
“I am real,” she said quietly to herself staring at her non-existent refection. And though she rarely doubted her own existence, one could never be too sure when dealing with mirrors. She ran into the dinning room, pulled a chair to the mirror and climbed up to the vanity desk. She looked into the mirror with pure curiosity. She reached out to touch it but quickly pulled her hand away, suddenly feeling that she almost did the most terrible thing.
She kept her eyes on the mirror as if it were a hungry tiger waiting to pounce on her as she climbed off the chair and walked away from the mirror. She planned never to pay mind to it again and went back to coloring a field of cherry red poppies.
But the thought of the mirror never left her mind.
* * * * *
A year went by without her thinking much about the mirror. Then her parents decided to go visit her grandmother again. This time as she colored her picture she fought hard to ignore the mirror in the hall.
She finished her drawing. Without realizing it she had drawn herself standing on the dining room chair and putting her hand flat against a mirror to touch her reflection, but the reflection wasn’t her. It was a devilish little girl.
‘Phoebe’ her name was whispered in the room. Phoebe looked up at the mirror and saw the little girl from her drawing in the Mirror. Phoebe ran into the dining room and carried a chair into the hallway facing the little girl.
“Who are you?” she asked.
‘I am you,’ the evil girl said.
“No your not,” Phoebe protested. “You’re Melanie.”
‘But I am you, Phoebe.’
“No!” She replied, “You’re my reflection and mirrors lie!”
Melanie laughed, ‘Did mother tell you that?’
Phoebe nodded.
‘Mother lies,’ the girl said.
“No you’re lying!” Phoebe yelled back at the mirror. She reached out to take the mirror off the wall. The girl disappeared and instead it showed Phoebe smashing the mirror into a million pieces, ‘Naughty Phoebe, that’s seven years bad luck!’ Melanie laughed.
Phoebe dropped her hands and stared at Melanie, who pressed her hand against the glass. Phoebe felt her own hand rise to reflect Melanie.
“No!” Phoebe said trying to move away from the mirror but she had taken the bait and could no longer move according to her own free will. The terrible feeling that she was about to do something bad filled her little heart again. And she begged Melanie to let her go: “Melanie! Please, let me go! I want mommy! Mommy! Mommy! MOMMY!”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as Melanie moved her hand an inch away from the mirror and Phoebe’s own hand paused.
'Don’t be a tattle tale, Phoebe.' Melanie said before touching the glass. Phoebe closed her eyes tight as she felt herself spinning like a top, until everything just stopped. She was no longer in her Grandmother’s house.
She opened her eyes and her world filled with color. She looked through the glass and saw Melanie standing in the hallway on the dinning room chair, smiling like she just did something worthy of praise.
‘Melanie! Let me out!’ Phoebe screamed.
“Phoebe, honey?” Mother said walking into the view of the mirror. “What are you doing standing on this chair?”
“Nothing Mommy, just playing.” Melanie replied in a sickly sweet voice.
‘That is not your mommy! That’s my Mommy!’ Phoebe yelled thought the glass. ‘Mommy! Mommy! I’m Phoebe! Mommy! She trapped me in this mirror! MOMMY!’
But Mother paid no attention to Phoebe’s cries, “Oh, well it’s time to go. Will you please put the chair back in the dinning room, dear?”
“Yes Mommy,” Melanie replied. Easily ignoring Phoebe’s cries. Mother walked away and Melanie only smiled at Phoebe before carrying the chair back to its place. Phoebe kept screaming as her father and grandmother passed the mirror and Melanie walked back into the hall. But no matter how loud her voice got no one too any notice to her screams.
‘Mommy! Mommy! MOMMY!
… mommy?’
