It is said that every mirrored surface is a gateway to the realm where our reflections live and are forced to do everything we do. If you look into a mirror and see your own reflection is missing, run. Run until you can see yourself in the windows of the buildings and the puddles on the street. No one can go over and come back. Except for in one place. Deep in a forest there is a pool that never has a wave on it's surface, no matter how hard the wind is blowing, or even if you throw a rock into
it. . .
Apartment 4F. In a small city, in a small building was Apartment 4F. Faded reds and blacks and blues and browns covered the floor, and a distinct odor floated from the kitchen sink throughout the entire house. Past the living room was a hallway, which led to the bedroom. More dirty clothes provided carpeting, sharing the floor with scraps of food and trash. The only light in the room came from the LED alarm clock, which read: 2:23 AM.
Laying in the bed was a small man, no more than five feet tall, with short red hair and a long, scraggly beard. Sleeping, he turned to his other side, tangling the blanket in his legs. His mouth was open, and drool flowed out of it on to his pillow. Again, he turned, this time pulling the blanket completely off of him, and on to the floor.
In his mind, he was running. Running to or from something he didn’t know. All he knew was the constant rhythm of his feet hitting the dirt floor. Suddenly, he stopped. In front of him was a dirty mirror. The man took off his shirt, and wiped it down. He took a few steps back, and gazed in to the mirror. There was no reflection. Seeing this, he smiled. Without warning, he felt a hand clap on his back…
The alarm went off. Startled, Gerald awoke, cold sweat dripping off of his forehead. He shook his head violently to wake himself up. Hanging in front of him was the smoke of his breath; his heater was broken, and it was four days before Christmas.
Not wanting to leave the bed, but also not wanting to relive the hell he found in his sleep, Gerald forced himself in to the bathroom. First things first he thought, as he unzipped his trousers and relieved himself. As he walked out and closed the door, he heard one, single knock. Frightened, he turned around to find the source of the rapping. All he saw was his own reflection in the mirror, staring back at him. Putting it up to coincidence, the man left the bathroom again, and closed the door behind him.
He walked the minefield of his living room carefully, strategically choosing his steps, and he eventually reached the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. Waiting for it to heat, he looked at the enormous pile of dishes, and sighed. Again, he heard a knock. This time, it seemed to be coming from his coffee pot, which was preposterous. He examined it carefully, looking for some sort of crack, but found the glass container perfectly intact. The only thing he saw blemishing its perfect surface was himself, staring grimly out of it.
Gerald sat on the couch, tossing a few more shirts on to the floor. He threw an arm up on the back of the couch, and sipped his coffee. The remote for the television sat on the glass table by his feet. He looked at it, then the tv, then the remote again. Compromising his comfortable position, he leaned forward, and reached for it. As his hand closed around the clicker, he paused. For a split second, he sword he could feel fingertips touching his as he touched the table, but in an instant… it was gone. Ignoring it, he leaned back again, trying to find the comfortable position again, and failed. Giving up, he turned on the tv, and sipped his coffee. As he sipped, he slowly began falling asleep again. His weariness allowed him only one thought before falling back in to his slumber: Gerald suddenly remembered he’d bought decaf on accident.
He dreamed that he was in the middle of a forest. The stars winked at him in their twilight, and he could see the very tip of the sun on the horizon. In front of him lay a beautiful lake, completely still. It perfectly reflected the thousands of trees in every direction. The more he stared at it, the more he realized that so much as a ripple never disturbed it. Upon further observation, he saw that it glowed. Reaching in to his pockets for his cell phone, for he desperately needed to keep this lake in his memory forever, he found that they were filled with… rocks. In fact, they were overflowing with rocks. They were all the same: small, round, and a shining white. So white that it almost blinded him.
A force came over Gerald. He lost all control of his actions, and began walking towards the lake. His left foot was the first to break the surface. Still, not so much as a wave broke the surface of the lake. Before he knew it, he was knee deep in the lake. The water was up to his chin, his nose, his eyes, and finally, he was completely submerged.
Gerald woke up. Again, in a cold sweat, however, this time his entire body was drenched, as though he’d been underwater. There was a huge stain on the couch. The clock above the TV said 10:00 PM. Great he thought, I slept through work.
The light on his phone that told him he had messages was blinking. Gerald picked up the phone, expecting to hear his boss, yelling. Instead, there was nothing. Just breathing. A constant, deep, heavy breathing. Twelve messages of this same, exact breathing.
“Damn kids…” he muttered, not quite convinced.
He looked at the clock again, which now read 10:15. Deciding he had nothing better to do, he decided to go out and grab a bite to eat. As he was walking out the door, he ran his fingers through his hair. It was completely tangled, complete with knots. Along with this, he remembered that his clothes were drenched. Hungry, but wanting to be presentable, Gerald ran back to his bathroom, and hurriedly took off his clothes, and jumped in the shower. In under six minutes, he shampooed, washed, and rinsed. He jumped out, and grabbed a towel hanging behind him next to the mirror. Annoyed, he threw on his clothes, and began to comb his hair. When he finished, he turned around to look at the finished product in the mirror.
Only… there was nothing in the mirror. It just showed the room behind him, completely ignoring the fact that he was standing right in front of it. Gerald slapped himself, to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Another look up confirmed it:
Gerald had no reflection.
This so intensely terrified him, so intensely scared him that he ran. He ran through the hallway, through his living room, out the door and in to the street. He ran through the streets in to the city, past the city towards the trees. Past the trees he found…
A lake. In front of him was a perfect, unmoving lake. In the center of the lake, Gerald saw a dot of red rise. Now entirely freaked, Gerald continued running, in the other direction.
All he knew was the constant rhythm of his feet hitting the dirt floor. Suddenly, he stopped. In front of him was a dirty mirror. Gerald took off his shirt, and wiped it down. He took a few steps back, and gazed in to the mirror. There was nothing. Gerald grinned, knowing that it could not possibly be HIMSELF coming up from the lake.
He felt a hand clap on his shoulder. Gerald turn around, terrified that he might find a familiar face staring back at him.
From the sky, suddenly, a branch fell from a tree. It hit Gerald in the head, killing him instantly.
((I hope you like this. Let me know! I'm sorry I haven't posted in forever I've been... unmotivated. :D. I will post my Comic-Con report soon, I promise. Probably even sometime later today. Oh LJ, how I've missed you.))
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