I always liked reading. I started reading the moment I memorized the alphabet, and never stopped since. I started with fantasy, as most children do, and from there expanded. As a child, I loved Geronimo Stilton’s books about the “World of Fantasy”. Sure, when I picked up the first book it took me an entire month to read it, because it didn’t have as many pictures as the other books I read, but after that a whole new world opened up to me.
In the years, I began reading Science Fiction. Then I had my edgy teen phase, and was so into horror. I remember when I had these big posters in my room, one from “The Shining”, the other a custom made printout of the cover from King’s book “Rose Madder”. I also appreciated H.P. Lovecraft and Poe, because the best horror is old horror. They sure knew how to write scary nonsensical things at the time. Probably because of all the Laudanum.
After that, I tried my hand with detective novels: the Dresden Files, Ten Little Niggers, Murder on the Orient Express, Sherlock Holmes, even those smaller books written recently, “Sherlock Holmes, Lupin & I”. I tried reading some love stories and made the mistake of taking on Twilight. Didn’t last ‘till the end of the book.
Point is, I like reading.
And, in the years, I’ve developed an opinion:
The best stories are the ones that begin with a question or a death.
----------------------------------------
Have you ever felt lonely? Like, truly lonely. Not the typical “My parents aren’t home and I have nothing to do” alone. I’m talking about the loneliness that comes from looking outside the window during summer and knowing you have nobody to call to go out and play. The sensation that sometimes surfaces its ugly face at night before you fall asleep, telling you you have no friends, that nobody likes you.
The loneliness that eats you from the inside and makes you feel so empty that, at some point, you either just stop caring or try to change yourself to become more appealing to other people, to try and make some kind of relationship with anyone.
Lucia was lonely. That kind of lonely.
It wasn’t summer though. It was winter. Did that make it better or worse? She didn’t know. She was just seven years old. Her mind wasn’t supposed to be asking that kind of questions, much less give them some kind of answer.
And she didn’t.
Instead, she spent some time with her only friend.
She looked in front of her and smiled. Her friend smiled back.
-How was your day?- she asked.
Her friend didn’t answer immediately. She looked at her for a while, then another voice a slightly altered version of her own voice, answered:
-Not bad, all in all. There isn’t much to do around here.-
Lucia nodded in understanding. She didn’t have much to do either. Sure, there was homework, and spending time with her parents. They really liked cooking around this time of the year. Sweets and biscuits and homemade agnolini and lentils and what felt like a hundred different things. The kitchen smelled of so many dishes and spices!
And maybe that was enough during the day, but at night, when she went to sleep, usually after watching a film with her parents on their large TV, there came the loneliness. But that was… ok. Sort of. Because she wasn’t really alone. There was Two!
-You should come here. Then you could help me and mum and dad with the cooking!-
Her friend, Two, smiled slightly and shook her head.
-I can’t really visit and help Lucia. But you could come visit me.-
The voice, as before, was a slightly altered version of the girl’s own. If her parents hadn’t already been soundly asleep, if they could’ve heard it, they would’ve found it creepy at best, more probably disturbing. But Lucia didn’t mind. Why would she, when the other girl was her friend? They talked each evening! Morning too, if they felt like it.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
-What’s so interesting about your home? What’s there to visit?
-Oh, there’s lots! So many things! Things you could never see around where you live. Palaces and parks, endless forests and mountains higher than the clouds, restaurants with foods you’ve never tasted and entertainments you could never imagine!-
Two sounded excited as she described all this with childish delight. She didn’t really explain what she was talking about. An adult would’ve laughed, said it was probably exagerated. After all, everything seems so much bigger when you’re just a child. And they wouldn’t be wrong, because Two was a child.
Lucia listened and marveled, her imagination running wild and she would’ve sworn up and down that she could nearly see it all! It filled her with wonder.
-Are there big roller-coasters?-
Because Lucia was one of those children that didn’t know fear. Fear existed only in nightmares, and she had so few of those.
-Sure there are! They go high high high into the sky that you can nearly see the tops of the mountains, and then go down down down reaaaaally fast and they last forever! And you don’t even have to wait long for another ride!-
Lucia liked what she heard a lot.
But then she furrowed her brows:
-I want to get there. But how? You never told me where you live. Will it take long with the car? Or will me and my mommy and daddy have to go with a train? Oh, I would love that! Even if daddy always says that trains never arrive on time and are too slooooow.-
Two giggled: -I wouldn’t know, I never went on a train. They scare me.-
-How? They’re so cool! They’re long and move fast. Not as fast as a roller coaster, but still fast, even if daddy disagrees. And they roll around and make this pleasant sound that makes you fall asleep.-
Two looked thoughtful, then shook her head: -Well, our trains aren’t half as cool as your sound. They are fast, and quite comfortable, if squishy, but they never really seem to know where they want to go.-
Lucia giggled: -That doesn’t seem so bad! It seems interesting. I would like to see one of your trains.-
-Then you’ll have to visit me.-
-But how?-
-Just take my hand.-
Two extended her hand towards Lucia with a faint smile. For a second, Lucia went for it, without thinking. Then she stopped.
-But what about my mum and dad? Can they come?-
-Don’t worry about them. They’ll come soon after you! Meanwhile you’ll stay with me! You’ll meet my other friends. I’m sure they’ll like you.-
Of the many things she had said up until now, the one that managed to actually convince Lucia was the last one.
She had always been a quite girl. Not good at sports, not really interested in barbies or trading pokemon and yu-gi-oh cards. Average in most aspects, she was, to put it simply, boring. That’s why she didn’t have many friends.
Granted, there were a few people with who she talked at school, but they weren’t really close.
That was why she liked Two. She made her feel special, even if she still thought of herself as boring. She told her stories of her home, and Lucia talked about her days, and she never seemed bored.
So, that night, she decided to accept Two’s proposal.
She lifted her hand and touched her fingers to the mirror’s silvered glass.
It was an ancient thing, with a few small spots of rust here and there at the borders. A gift from grandma, who thought it would fit in her room. She touched the cold surface. Two did the same, from the other side.
She tried to reach inside, towards her hand, but the glass rebelled. It kept them separated. Of course it did. It was a mirror. It was only meant to reflect. It was why it had been created in the first place. Sure, it knew about the old tales, older than humanity. The Tales of Doors, as they were called on the other side. But it wasn’t interested in them. It was just a mirror, and a mirror it would stay.
That is, until Two whispered a little something in its ear:
-Please.-
The mirror was surprised. So much so that, for a moment, it forgot it was a mirror. It forgot what it was doing. And the old Tale took its place, passed through, and flew away to tell itself all over the world.
In the end, the mirror remembered, but by then the Tale had been told, and it could do nothing but stay open, like all its other fellows.
And anyways, Lucia had already passed and was walking hand in hand with her own reflection, Two, asking about the many things they could see.
Then they left through the reflection of her room’s door.
And nobody saw her again.
----------------------------------------
The night of the twenty-first of december 2012, the world as we knew it ended.
It wasn’t an alien invasion. Or, at least, not the kind the films made it look like.
It wasn’t the world blowing up from the inside, going out with a bang, or simply charred by a solar storm.
It was nothing like that.
Simply, every mirror in the world became a door. A small, transparent, door to another place. Of course, nobody realized until things started to walk through them, invading our reality, forever changing it.
On the night of the twenty-first of december, a little girl known as Lucia disappeared from her home, leaving her parents to desperately look for her. They didn’t know, like all the others. They looked, and found nothing. And, when they began to wonder, it was already too late.
Or was it?