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The GrayBird tales
Mirror not Mirror

Mirror not Mirror

I’d heard a great deal about the famous legend of the Bloody Mary. Mainly how she is said to appear to those who plunge themselves in darkness and proceed to chant her name three times in front of a mirror.

The deeper I dug into the matter, the faster I realized that I was left with more questions piling up on the side than the world could provide answers to.

Many of those who’d had the courage to call upon Bloody Mary in their mirrors, simply stated online that nothing had happened, yet those who’d confirmed the veracity of the legend, all had a different story to tell about their own encounter with the spirit or whatever Bloody Mary is.

Then there was Mary I, queen of England from 1553 to 1558, who was apparently also known as Bloody Mary by her protestant opponents, at least according to the informations I’d found.

Nevertheless, my research had to stop there, I couldn’t go further, I couldn’t venture further by attempting to prove or disprove any of those claims.

I couldn’t just stand in front of a mirror after sundown and perform the ritual. No, of course not, I was born and raised in GrayBird town after all. I am currently still stuck in it. Not sure if I’ll ever get out. But until then, it is imperative to understand that on this land of ours, mirrors are a bit of a taboo subject. Bring them up too often and you can be sure that you will turn a few heads away from you.

My own mother was giving me the cold shoulder, after I had the audacity to ask her what would happen if one was to break the rule; that was a few days ago at the breakfast table.

Besides the fact that she’d given me no concrete answer, she stopped being her usual chatty self with me. Now, I was never the all "doom and gloom" loner kind of teen, but I wasn’t the type to proclaim my love for life either. It felt strange to admit but… I liked that I didn’t have to talk to my mom like I used to before.

That being said, I still had no clue why my mother sat me down at the age of six, only to explain to me that the mirrors were to stay covered at all costs around the house, after sunset, and that I was to never try and look at my reflection during that time under any circumstances.

Thankfully, I had my best friend Alma to help me with that. She, just like myself, couldn’t just abide by the rule and leave it at that.

Only three days ago she showed up to school all giddy and excited to tell me all about her little "adventure" the night before, if one could call it that.

I was all ears, from beginning to end. I was a tad disappointed when she assured me that nothing had happened once she stared at her own reflection in the mirror after dark had fallen, but it didn’t lessen my desire to know more about it, on the contrary it encouraged me to try it in order to see for myself.

So, that same day I’d vowed to essentially break one of the many rules I was taught to follow in GrayBird since my childhood.

When nighttime came, that was exactly what I did. I patiently waited for my mom to fall into a deep enough state of sleep so that there wouldn’t be any need for me to tip toe the entire time.

Although, it was very windy outside. It created quite the racket anyway. It served my interests well enough.

My time to act came at exactly one thirty-two am. I approached the mirror in my room and reached for the fabric covering the entire thing.

It wasn’t until I held the cloth between my fingers that I noticed how shaky my hands were.

It seemed even with all the determination in the world, I still couldn’t brush away the doubts engraved in the back of my mind. Not only that, but I felt my blood coursing slower through my body, like the temperature around me had suddenly dropped significantly lower. Were doubts all I had? I recalled Alma’s words about her experience, she couldn’t have been lying to me, she wouldn’t do that, Surely?

I shut my eyes and pulled the cover off the mirror at once, leaving no chance for hesitation to further get the better of me.

I remained still for a moment, playing through the infinite number of possibilities that I was up against, but once I opened my eyes, there was no going back for me.

I slowly pulled my eyelids off my irises, and to my surprise or… Lack thereof, I saw absolutely nothing, nothing worth mentioning at least.

All I caught sight of, was the boring, unchanged reflection of my room around me as well as myself, of course.

I stared intensely into my own eyes, for I don’t remember how long, before deciding that lingering was of no use. My arms dropped to my side, no longer shaky. I felt heavier, a lot more tired than I was a few minutes prior, or was it the sheer weight of disappointment?

Not that I wished for something terrible to happen, but just… Something? Anything?

I dragged my feet back to my bed and threw my body on it. The whole thing took a lot more energy from me than it was worth. I settled for sleeping on that thought and got comfortable under my sheets.

When I turned to my side, something grabbed my attention. I sat back up, my eyes on my alarm clock, which indicated one thirty-two… What a coincidence? I thought. It stopped precisely at the last moment I looked at it, down to the second.

But right before choking it to a malfunction or a battery problem, I noticed that something else had drastically changed.

The storm… Went dead quiet, all that ruckus only moments before… Was no more. I got up and walked my way to the window. I felt as though I’d forgotten to blink, so much so that my eyeballs became more and more sensitive in their sockets.

Everything looked dead, not a single breeze blew by to shake the leaves on any tree outside, as feeble as one may be.

It was hard to think that, only minutes before, those same trees were struggling to remain stuck in the ground by their roots, but by then, nothing was moving at all.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The next day, I opened my eyes only to be greeted firstly by a strong burst of light protruding through my window, then came the sight of my alarm clock.

It was six thirty o’clock in the morning, it looked like the perfect day to wear some bright clothes. I had this warm and fuzzy feeling in me I couldn’t shake, nor could I explain it for that matter, wondering if what happened the night before was anything but a dream. Though the sun was calling for me, I felt like I could accomplish so much, like I had the energy to.

My mother seemed to think it was odd for me to act so… For lack of better words, I’d say, up? I didn’t mind, I just kissed her goodbye and left for school.

My friends did point that out as well. They said that there was something different about me, and even though part of me agreed with them, the rest of me couldn’t help but be inexplicably happy and excited to be alive, to just exist.

The only thing that made a dent in my joy was the fact that Alma didn’t show up to school that day. I was a bit concerned about it being related to the rule we broke, but couldn’t be sure.

Nighttime came again before I knew it, and as soon as I laid my head on the pillow, I fell into a deep dreamless sleep. All I remember after that was waking up the next morning, unsure of how much time had passed. It felt like I’d closed my eyes and opened them only a few seconds later.

The ceiling of my room above my head looked every bit as familiar as always, but something was in the water. Everything was so unnaturally quiet. It was seven o’clock, yet not a single sound, neither from inside our house, nor outside of it. Usually by then, I’d hear my mother moving stuff in the kitchen, birds would be chirping, trees swaying to the will of the wind.

But not that morning, it was like nobody but me walked earth, and for some reason the first thing I thought of doing was to uncover the mirror facing me.

Starting from the bottom, I lost control over my breathing the moment the very first millimeters of the mirror were uncloaked.

I immediately took notice of the fact that my reflection was missing. The rest of my room seemed normal, but I wasn’t there. I mean I was… But not my reflection.

The more of the mirror was revealed, the clearer I saw. My reflection wasn’t in front of me, because it was busy.

Busy rummaging through my wardrobe. Picking clothing items up, looking at them for a moment then tossing them behind me… I mean my reflection. I seemed so happy, so upbeat, so ready to live.

But then something else called for my attention. In the reflection of my room, a bird sat at the window, chirping happily. The trees were moving with the winds as well.

Only when I turned to look at my window… There was nothing. Pure lifelessness... It felt like I was staring at a still realistic painting of the view from my window.

I was so deep within my own thoughts. I was at such a loss of words, that I barely noted the movements of my reflection.

When I finally came to, it was already standing in front of the mirror, facing me. It seemed like it had picked its outfit for the day, but then it stopped and stared me down to my core. Its… My face displayed the coldest and most sadistic of looks. A gaze I never thought my face capable of expressing.

That thing knew I was there. Its lips curled upwards into a smile that was every bit as terrifying as the stare it gave me before. It enjoyed my anguish. I was sure of it but… Why?

“Hello? Can you hear me?” my mother’s voice brought me out of my trance.

It took me a few seconds to finally realize that I was at the kitchen table, my mothers’ eyes on me, craving answers and perhaps reassurances.

”What?” I asked.

“I said; I thought you liked muffins, or did your tastes change again?” she said.

I was way too preoccupied by how I’d gotten down to the kitchen from my room, to think about muffins, "How did I get here?” I asked.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah…,” I didn’t want to press, at the risk of coming across as a lunatic, in front of my own mom… I didn’t want to scare her any more than I already had.

I understand now how I must’ve looked, but back then I thought I was losing my mind. Completely unable to remember a thing from what had happened before the kitchen, except the reflection thing… It was all blank.

In fact, I don’t remember much of what had happened after that either. Just a few images of the rest of the day flashing back now and then. I wanted to go by Alma’s house and check on her, but I don’t even recall what occurred after that, and nothing else at all to be fair.

The night came along before I could comprehend any of it. Odd how my bed had always felt more comfortable than it did that night. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t get my muscles to relax, and my feet wouldn't stop shaking.

But as soon as I’d closed my eyes, darkness claimed me entirely, dipping me into a pool of new sensations.

First, I felt scorching heat around my figure. The temperature had risen exponentially in the matter of seconds, then I felt the stifling of my breath, like I was in the middle of a blistering fire, coughing my lungs out with every whiff of smoke inhaled.

My body sore all over, and my muscles refusing to obey me, I couldn’t move form… Wherever I was.

“Agatha! Agatha! You need to get up, I can’t carry you out, please!” I somehow recognized that voice. It belonged to someone dear to me. I couldn’t remember her name just yet. My brain wasn’t being supplied with the right amount of oxygen, ”Please, stand up! We need to go to our sisters, they are waiting for us, we’ll be safe there,” she spoke again.

My eyes hardly but finally fluttered open. Everything around me was so bright and orange… A fire, the house was on fire, but then I laid eyes on her, the woman that had spoken to me. I knew who she was, if only I could recall her name.

She did her best to pull me on my feet and began to haul me out of harm's way. My face came a lot closer to hers so, I was able to take a better look at her traits, "What is happening?” I managed to ask.

“It is all alright, do not worry yourself with that, we will be with our sisters very soon. Be brave for me Agatha,” she uttered all the while dragging my carcass along with her.

It was then that my lips moved to speak words that were far beyond my capacity to grasp, "Agnes? Why is this happening to us?”

And it was then that tears streamed down my face, as though I understood the pain of whoever Agatha could be, as though I felt it with every fiber of my being.

Agony, sorrow and so much hate, like I knew the reason we were dressed in those outfits that belonged in the medieval era without understanding, like I knew the reason I was trapped in a house on fire.

“Nothing will happen to you, I promise you that you will be safe with me sister,” she said again.

I believed Agnes. I trusted Agnes with my life. I was ready to leave it between her hands, but why was that? No way for me to tell.

I woke up in a cold sweat the next morning. I’d cried my eyes out in my sleep, and most of all, I remembered every moment from my dream so vividly, I could still feel the pain of being in it.

But at the very least, I was relieved to find that my room was normal, even after I’d uncovered the mirror.

Well, I was relieved at first, until I looked out the window. Alma was standing there almost as though she was expecting me to do exactly what I did.

I ran out to meet her. I hadn’t seen her in a while. She looked radiant. Everything about her did, her smile, her energy and her attitude...

She was happy about something, I couldn’t figure out, so I asked, “Alma, what is it?”

She didn’t say a thing. She just gaped at me; her smile didn’t leave her lips for a second. I thought my words over again in my head, and for some reason I decided to call her by a different name, “Agnes?”

“The process is complete, I think you are ready to join us now,” she said.

“What process? Who are you? Join you where?” I panicked. Why was Alma responding to the name of the woman from my dream?

“You’ll see that very soon, sister,” she added.

I don’t remember much of what happened after that, and that’s precisely why I am writing this.

I don’t know when I am me, and when I am her… Agatha, I mean.

I can hear her thoughts getting louder and louder in the back of my mind. She is growing stronger with every day that goes by.

I am not sure for how long I’ll remain the owner of my own body. I am withering away as she’s taking over.

I just hope that, when all is said and done, someone will get to read my tale and… Who knows? Maybe it’ll turn out to be helpful.

If anyone is reading this, in GrayBird town, always stick to the rules, and whatever you do, don’t ever look at a mirror after sunset, for you will literally lose yourself to it.