There’s a woman in the mirror who haunts me. She’s not my reflection, but an entity all to herself. Something like me, but not quite me.
It’s been over two years since my wedding day, that’s when this all began. From then on I’ve feared for my life because I know what she wants and what it is she’s trying to do. In the company of others she pretends and hides her true self, seamlessly mimicking my expressions and gestures like she’s supposed to. But when we’re alone and it’s just the two of us she refuses to play the part. Instead her face contorts into something misshapen and her mouth opens in silent screams as she claws at the surface.
She’s trying to get out, trying to exchange places, trying to put me inside the mirror.
Her presence is a harrowing burden, but there’s no avoiding her. She’s stalks me across every reflective surface, watching me with those rage filled brown eyes that are supposed to be my own. There’s no peace, every mirror, every puddle and every window is a constant reminder of her existence.
But how long will this go on? Am I to live the rest of my life plagued by the woman on the other side? I fear my only solution is to face her, force her to accept her place behind the looking glass and free myself from the incubus of her ubiety.
A mirror stands in the hallway, exquisitely framed in gold. There she is, staring back at me. Her cold gaze travels down my body, stopping at my budding abdomen. Life has been growing inside me now for weeks, but this is the first she’s seen of it.
As I place my hands protectively over my barely-there bump she charges, launching herself at the glass like a woman possessed. Her clenched fists pound against the barrier as she screams words I cannot hear.
When will she understand that there’s no getting out? No matter how hard she tries, or how much she torments me, it’s no use. I’ll never go back. This world is mine now.