“Click” the lock sounds, and I breathe a sigh of relief. What if he’s serious? What if he’s not lying? “Stop it Nicky, he was just messing with you,” admonishing myself seems silly. Sure it might be possible, but only if he was a ghost or some other kind of spirit. How ridicules, I’ve held his hand. He isn’t even transparent. He really had me going there.
Stifling a chuckle I take a step towards the sink. Glistening counters paired with immaculate mirrors gives this bathroom a sterile feel. I’m not sure if I like it or not, though I can always redecorate once I’ve bought the house. Satisfied with the idea, I turn on the water. Hot water gushes out of the fountain. Water heater needs to be reset also. Making a mental note to myself I quickly turn on the cold water. Even so the mirror above the sink fogs up.
“Nicky…,” only a whisper, I’m not even sure I heard it. Ignoring the slight tingle on the back of my neck I shove my hands under the stream of lukewarm water. “Nicky,” much louder this time the voice startles me. He sounds concerned.
Turning my head towards the door I yell “Hon, I’m in the bathroom.” He doesn’t respond, and I wonder why. I better go back out there. Quickly I turn off the water and reach for the towel lying on the counter.
“Nicky…” this time his voice sounds like he’s taunting me. Should I spray my hair before I go back? Nah, he won’t care. Taking once last glance at my reflection in the mirror I smile. What’s that? It looks like a red spot under my eye. Leaning closer to the mirror I place my hands on the counter to support my weight. It is a red spot, I reach one hand up and rub the spot. It’s spreading.
Coming from the mirror is a slight whisper “Nicky I found you.”
“OK now I’m scared. Stop it John!” Yelling through a door seems quite ridicules, when the sound came from the mirror. That sounds even more ridicules, from a mirror. What will people think of me? They’ll think I’m crazy, that’s what they’ll think.
The mirror its just a mirror that’s all. Stop hallucinating. Just look at the mirror its nothing, just a large flat pane of glass stretching from one side of the counter to the other. There’s a tiny smudge where I’m looking. As I lean closer I notice it’s positioned right where the red spot under my eye is. The smudge seems to be growing, the closer I get. It resembles him in a way. “He wouldn’t like being compared to a smudge on a mirror.”
“No I wouldn’t,” suddenly the smudge changes from resembling him to him. Springing from the mirror he lunges at my throat.
Flattening my body against the wall, I squeeze my eyes shut. Upon opening my eyes I let out my breath. I’ve been holding it, without even realizing. The hallway I’m standing in is dark. Too dark, unable to see even my hand, I must trust. “Please God if your there, don’t let him be up here. Don’t let him see me. Please. ” even though I’m thinking the words they sound desperate. Laying my palms flat on the wall, I slowly slid my foot sideways. The hallway is only 3 feet across. If anyone else is in here, they would only need to pass next to me, and they would touch me. Where are the stairs? If I go too far everything will be ruined. The stairs, no! There were at least 12 mirrors following the path of the winding staircase I’m trying to find. Why did I even listen to him?
“Nicky, darling, where are you? I can’t find you. Are you hiding from me?” His voice reverberates off the walls. Coming from no particular direction it’s everywhere.
Now he knows. Where can I go, can he see me right now in this hallway?
“Darling…” Drawing the word out, he makes it drip with sarcasm. Even the sound of his voice repulses me. Amazing, just knowing about the mirrors eliminated my trust in him. So there are mirrors in this hallway. Staying as far away from the glass as I can; I run.
”AH! There you are. Come back!” Laced with hatred a voice I’ve never heard rings out. A hand snatches the end of my hair; twisting its fingers, around and around, pulling me closer, and closer.
No! You won’t get me like this. I will leave this house. Determination surges through me. Angry now, I twist me body around till I can see the hand. Thin white fingers enter laced through my brown hair. “Let go of me! You demon let me go!” A hysterical voice that sounds nothing like my own; erupts from my mouth. Followed by my hands clawing at the arm. Piercing the mirrors glossy surface is the elbow of my attacker. Get rid of the mirror. The statement is simple, yet the only possible escape. The mirror has an elaborate frame consisting of intertwined metal. I’m sorry to break the mirror but I must. Before I can change my resolve I smash the mirror with my hand. The mirror shatters, as the pieces fall to the ground the hand disintegrates into flat panes of glass.
“Break a mirror, for seven years you’ll have bad luck. That was a very big mistake Nicky,” Laughter follows the statement.
My eyes quickly glance up. The mirror is no longer a mirror. Now it is an empty frame; just a harmless frame, hanging on a wall. "Is he right? He always is,”
I've already posted this in OTHER FICTION, i'm not sure if this could pass as action or not. Anyhow please critique, i need help!