I Sight

Abigail awoke Sunday morning with an uneasy feeling hanging above her. She jumped quickly out of bed and searched round for whatever thing must have be out of place, but strangely enough, everything was in order. She opened the window curtains and in poured the warming light of the sun, promising to refresh the world with another new beginning. But still, Abigail felt surely something must be awry.

Through the rest of her apartment she ventured. She checked if the stove were on, if the fridge had been left open, if the front door were unlocked. But still, to her continued bewilderment, everything was precisely as it ought to be. She stepped out onto her balcony, hoping the fresh air would cleanse her mind and rid her of the nagging restlessness within. But though the crisp air was deliciously exquisite, it did no such thing, and on the restlessness persisted.

Persisted, and then increased. As she stood perched high above the rest of the city, she looked out and saw a glowing green light in the distance. The curious sight made her knees buckle, made her cheeks tremble, made her heartbeat fast-forward while her breath was on rewind. With haste, she readied herself and headed in the direction of the light. She moved through the streets with her gaze downward, seeing nothing, seeing no one. Her feet moved at an uncomfortably quick pace, a pace which matched that of her thoughts.

After a suspicious amount of time, she looked up and saw a sign before her which read "The Colour of Home." The glowing green light was nowhere in sight, but she knew that she was exactly where she needed to be. Without hesitation, she stepped inside. What she found there was endless rows of nothing but mirrors. Abigail was filled with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu… hadn’t she been in this place a thousand times before?

She walked through the aisles, wondering if anybody else were in there. “Hello?” She called out. But only silence replied. She searched round, but saw only unending versions of herself. It was almost as if she were the only living thing that existed; the only living thing that had ever existed. It was just her, her and her reflection repeating infinitely from an indistinguishable beginning to an unforeseeable end. Through every aisle she walked, in every mirror she looked at, she saw merely echos.

Then something appeared. As she paused in front of one of the mirrors, she saw a flicker in the centre of her reflection’s left pupil. Without noticing it, the uneasy feeling she woke up with had dissipated when she walked through the door. But now, as she looked at that peculiar reflection, the feeling returned once again. And this time it was not just some nagging restlessness, now it was an all consuming force, a force of unparalleled gumption.

She leaned in closer to get a better look, and the force grew stronger. There she was, face to face with her reflection, and a glowing green light flickering in the centre of her eye. Then a feeling. The feeling of cold icy fingers on her shoulder. And the fingers gripped her. Gripped her tightly. And before she had time to question, before she had time to see, she was pushed, violently forward. And as she moved toward the mirror, the flicker in her eye expanded.

Apologies, perhaps expanded is not quite the right word. What I mean to say is that green light which was circling round the very centre of her eye opened up monstrously large and swallowed her whole.