Mirror Man
There was a man who lived in my mirror.
Let me be clear on this. It is not me. It is not some version of me that is in my mind. He is real, and he lives in my bathroom mirror.
I first noticed him about a year ago. I had moved out of my old residence into a the rental house due to the divorce. It had been an ugly time, and the new house was not what I wanted out of life. I was getting ready for work and was shaving. I had prepared a bowl of lather; I using shave soap and a simple safety razor. It’s a morning ritual that gives me a few minutes of self-care that help center me for my day and go through my morning affirmations that I needed to just get myself to go to the job. I had just finished whisking up the soap and was about to paint my face with the lather when I spotted him.
He was behind my reflection, peering in from the side of the mirror. When he saw me look, he ducked away. I turned and saw nothing. My heart was racing.
I wrote that off to a trick of the light, and I didn’t see the man for a while.
About six months later he appeared again as I was shaving. This time he crept in from the side and stood at the edge of the mirror behind me. He was a shadowy figure, slightly taller than me with mostly indiscernible features. I could see white eyes and the - I don’t know a better way to say this - a notion of a smile.
I dropped my razor into the sink and spun. He wasn’t there. When I turned back to the mirror he was gone. Still, I decided my mind was toying with me. Shadows can be deceptive if you allow them to be, after all.
Three weeks later he reappeared. This time, he slipped slowly towards me. I held my breath as he drew nearer. In the mirror, I saw him a couple of feet behind me. I turned, and as usual he was not there, nor was he in the mirror when I looked back. This time I started to panic. A scream stuck in my throat, and my heart pounded. I still wanted to believe this was a figment of nonsense generated by my brain. But I think I knew then that it was not.
But what was I to do?
He appeared again a month later, which was a week ago. This time my reflection was perfectly normal. I looked down at my lathering bowl, and when I looked up, there he was beside me. I still couldn’t make out his features, but I could detect the grin more distinctly. It was wider and somehow more malevolent. He placed his left arm around my shoulder, and I felt a spasm of cold shoot down my spine.
The man’s white eyes started at me and he raised his right hand. I could not swear to this, but it looked to me as though it held a knife. I closed my eyes and screamed, waiting for the phantasmic blade to stab my heart. But nothing happened. When I opened my eyes, he was gone.
I covered the mirror with a towel. I suppose I should have taken it off the wall and thrown it away. But in my head, I knew that was a terrible idea. If the mirror were to break, I just knew that would mean that the man would be able to leave his mirror world and enter ours. I know how ridiculous this sounds, and I can’t explain how I know the consequences of the mirror breaking. But, I do and I can’t let that happen.
Since I put the towel over the mirror, there have been no issues. I shave using a smaller mirror that has not contained anything but a normal reflection. All has been fine. Of course, when I think too much about the mirror covered by the green towel, I get a sense of unease. But it’s nothing I can’t manage.
That changed today.
I started to shave as usual when I heard a strange knocking. It took me a moment to realize it was coming from the mirror underneath the towel. I froze when I heard it. The knock was followed by another knock, louder than the one before. I stood staring at the mirror obscured by the towel.
The third noise was less of a knock and more of a thud, as if something were battering at a door. The mirror shook. I backed away from the sink as another loud noise reverberated from the mirror. I could see the towel bulge on the left. The next strike was more powerful. I heard glass shatter. A few small shards tinkled down onto the counter from behind the towel. There was another crash, and this time a shower of glass cascaded down and the towel fell away.
In the mirror, I saw a shadowy hand reaching out into the bathroom, and the grinning featureless face glaring at me. I felt hate. I felt anger. I felt fear. As the man pulled back his hand to strike the mirror again, I ran out the bathroom door. Behind me I heard a loud crash as if the entire mirror had fallen to the floor. I kept running towards my front door, grabbing my keys off the coffee table. I heard the crunching sound of glass being shattered underfoot.
My trembling fingers unlocked my front door, and I took a look towards my bedroom. A shadow was creeping out the door and into the hallway. As I flung the door open, the shadowy man stood in the hall and smiled at me. He lowered his head and ran towards me. got out the door and slammed it shut just in time to hear him crash into it. I locked the door - I don’t know why - ran to my car, and left.
So, I sat in a local coffee shop. Thinking about what to do. I had no choice but to confront that thing. I couldn’t just abandon my house, and besides, what was to keep the man from coming after me wherever I might be. The only thought that crossed my mind is that the only way to fight a shadow is with light.
I stopped at a big box hardware store and got a large LCD flashlight. I tested it and drove home.
I slowly and quietly unlocked and opened the door. I held the flashlight in front of me, not turning it on.
I kept my house fairly dark. I didn’t like leaving windows open. I’m a private person, I suppose. I inched my way through the house, trying to control my breathing. I made my way down the hall to my bedroom. I turned the corner and looked in. There, standing on the other side of the bedroom, was the grinning man. He raised his knife - and there was no longer any doubt that is what it was - and rushed towards me.
My thumb pressed the button on the flashlight, but slipped. Frantically, I pressed at it again, this time completing the circuit. The light beam struck the man in his chest as he was halfway towards me. The beam seemed to burrow into the man’s chest and suck the shadow into it like a raging whirlpool.
In a moment, the mirror man was gone.
*****
I cleaned up the shards of glass and took down the ruined frame of the bathroom mirror. I drove all the debris to a nearby dumpster and tossed everything in.
It took me several days before I could sleep again, and buy a replacement mirror was not a priority. I stuck to my small mirror for a long time. After about a year, I decided it was time to go back to normal. At that point, I had convinced myself that I had maybe imagined the whole thing. I had, after all, been going through some serious issues then, particularly due to the divorce. As realistic as it all seemed, I recognized that the situation could have all been an stress-induced hallucination.
I was in a better place, after all. My work was going well, and I had started seeing someone. Nothing terribly serious, but it was significant forward momentum from where I had been.
So I bought a mirror, because it was weird not to have one.
I have a date planned for this evening. We had decided to go someplace nice, so I thought a fresh shave for the night was a good idea. As I started the process, though, I saw it.
I caught a quick glimpse of someone peering at me from the edge of the mirror.
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