Beyond the Mirror

There was a strange store at the end of the cobblestone street in the sleepy village of Harrow, where it looked as though time stood still. The location was known as "The Looking Glass," and it was full of oddities and antiquities that seemed to harken back to bygone eras.

One thing, however, stuck out among the worn-out trinkets and dusty shelves: a tall, elaborate mirror rimmed in silver that had detailed carvings of twisting vines and weird, almost alien creatures.

Because they believed the mirror to be cursed, the people avoided it. They warned that if you studied it too closely, you may see unexplained or otherworldly objects. However, Eliza, the daughter of the shopkeeper, found it fascinating.

Of course, she had heard the legends, but she didn't think curses or haunted objects existed. For her, it was nothing more than a lovely mirror.

Eliza stood in front of the mirror one rainy day while her father was working in the back room and the store was deserted.

Examining her mirror, she observed that her auburn hair appeared nearly black in the low light and her green eyes were more vibrant than usual. However, when she stared into the glass, she noticed an odd thing: it appeared as though her reflection was smiling.

And not just any smile, but a purposeful, slow smile that was inconsistent with her own facial expression.

Startled, Eliza blinked, but the reflection did not change; it continued to smile back at her with a disconcerting familiarity. Her heart thumping in her chest, she took a step closer.

Her breath fogged the glass as she murmured, "What is this?" However, the reflection remained silent.

It did not raise its hand like Eliza had done.

Trapped in terror, Eliza observed the reflection's hand pressing against the glass, perhaps attempting to make a connection with her. Her body froze in place as a sharp shiver ran down her spine.

Then, she witnessed the reflection's eyes shift in a terrifying instant. Dark, soulless voids that seemed to draw her in replaced her own.

She stammered back and yelled, "No!" in a voice that was almost audible. Anyway, it was already too late.

The reflection started to move independently, moving at a different pace than she did, and its smile turned hideous. Eliza had an unexplained tug toward the mirror, as though the glass had turned liquid and was about to engulf her.

She tried to pull her eyes away from the reflection, but the reflection trapped her.

She managed to gasp out, her voice shaking with panic, "What do you want?"

The mirror cocked its head, the smile unwavering. Then it said, "Come with me... beyond the mirror," in a voice that was not her own.

The mirror reached out and nearly touched her hand as the room began to spin and the walls closed in around her. As Eliza struggled against the unseen force pulling her toward the glass, her heart pounded.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the chill permeate into her bones. But she heard a tremendous smash as soon as her fingers touched the mirror's surface.

The magic was broken by her father's sudden entrance into the room. He yelled, "Eliza!" and grabbed her arm to yank her away from the mirror. As it was pulled back into the depths of the glass, the reflection's smile disappeared and was replaced by an expression of unadulterated wrath.

With dread in her eyes, Eliza dropped into her father's arms, panting. Her voice trembling, she murmured, "It was trying to pull me in." Pale, her father cast a quick glance at the mirror.

He was always aware that something was off, that something was bad. He put an old sheet over the mirror and concealed it from view without saying anything.

Eliza was unable to fall asleep that night as the wind roared through the trees and the rain lashed the windows. She saw that twisted smile and those lifeless, dark eyes staring back at her every time she closed her eyes.

Something beyond her comprehension had been shown to her by the mirror; it was something that was hiding and only waiting for the right opportunity to erupt.

Eliza avoided the store in the days that followed, and her father arranged for the mirror to be sold to a collector in a different town. luckily the memory of what she had seen, what she had nearly become, lingered like a shadow in her mind long after it had vanished.

Even though the mirror had left her life, she could still feel its presence—just below the surface of her mind, where she worried it would reappear at some point.

Eliza saw the world beyond the mirror as a terrible reality from which she would never be able to escape, rather than just a narrative.