Caution: objects are closer than they appear

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. In a split second my scream escapes me and I instinctively grab the blanket off the bed and drape it over the mirror. My heart is racing as I try to slow my breathing. Breathe in, breathe out, she’s not real.

I glance down and my hands are shaking. I close my eyes, but her image stains my vision. Her empty eyes stare into me, neck askew, blood trickling down her face. She’s not real, she’s not real. A knock on the door brings my thoughts back to the surface and my roommate yells “Hope you’re clothed cause I’m coming in!” Her personality fills the room before she even steps in the door. She starts recounting how wild her night was and how desperately she needs to raid my closet. I stand frozen trying to shake off the image I’d just seen as Maggie aggressively grabs shirts off the hangers. Once she has her hands full, she looks over at me.

“Did you hear what I just said? They are calling it a freak accident. She must have been so drunk she drove straight into a tree.” She looks at me with concern, “Becks, you okay?”

“I’m great,” I say unconvincingly. “Just tired.”

“Well, let’s hurry up so we can be on time to class this time. Dr. Montalvo will murder us if we are late again.” She pulls a sweater over her as she mumbles, “And I cannot retake this class.”

We grab our things and head to class, but my thoughts are a million miles away. In between classes I instinctively go the long way round. I don’t want to go anywhere near that accident. Just thinking about it naturally brings me back to her empty eyes. I shudder and walk faster, head down. I sit down in my next class: pottery. Instantly as I am behind the wheel and my hands are shaping the clay, I relax and my mind is still for the next couple hours. I love the feeling of clay between my fingers, of getting to imagine something in my mind and see it created from start to finish. I have always been able to see the world this way, not only what it is but what it could be. I know how to plan a few steps ahead. I place my vase in the kiln to bake and head over to the sink to wash my hands.

As I look up, again I see her. In the mirror I see her eyes boring into me, neck tilted to the left and blood all down her face. Again her shadowy figure produces a scream out of me. I step back and stumble over a stool and collapse to the floor. Eyes immediately shoot to me, classmates murmuring as I glance around. My classmates are all dumbfounded. My professor starts to ask me if I am alright, but I am already heading for the door.

Hands still covered in clay I race out of the room, unsure if I’m more embarrassed or more terrified of what just happened. I start running without much thought to where, and in less than five minutes I see it. Caution tape everywhere, police lights still flashing, cops walking around the area taking pictures. The flash startles me as a policeman asks me to back up and head back to class. Before I can move, the memories come flooding back. No, this can’t be real. She isn’t real.

Before I can stop it however, the scene unfolds before me. It was a party at a friends of Maggies. We rode together. I see the lights around me, feel the bass, smell the alcohol. I remember dancing with a guy from the Baseball team. I was nervous, partying was not my usual scene. I took a few shots of “liquid courage” and ended up being way more drunk than I thought. Maggie was leaving to go to another party but I wanted to go home so I took the keys and started heading back.

I was only on the road for a few minutes. I hit a red light and I saw her there - she was getting out of the car. Some guy had just crashed her car into a tree and she was yelling at him. Neither of them were hurt too badly but after they fought for a minute he started making some calls and walked off.

As my light turned green I start to see the scene unfold in slow motion as I drive closer to her. She started running in the middle of the street, waving her hands- hoping for a ride. But I didn’t stop in time. I heard my car hit her before I registered anything else, felt the thump as the tires went over her. I was so drunk I barely processed what happened until I looked back in my rearview mirror and saw her on the ground. Her neck was bent, dead eyes boring into me, and blood trickling down her face. I wished I stopped, but I didn’t. Fear flooded through me, what would happen if they found out it was me? I wouldn't finish school, I could end up in jail. If she was alive she would have no way of knowing who I was, right? As I start to think about, I realize I have to stay a few steps ahead- the only way I am getting out of this is if I keep on driving. So that is what I do.

The flashback fades and I am interrupted again as the police officer walks up closer to me. “Hey! I told you to head back to class.”

“Do you know what happened to her?” I ask.

“Looks like she was driving under the influence, got beat up pretty bad and collapsed as she got out of her car.”

“No one saw what happened?”

“No one has come forward. But if you hear anything, give us a call.”

“What was her name?”

“Hannah Cooper.”

I sullenly walk back to my room, lock the door behind me, glance at the mirror still covered with the blanket. I slowly peel it down and see her reflection looking back at me. This time I refuse to look away. I toss the blanket back on the bed and stare at her. I wave and smile and say, “Hey, Hannah! Guess we will be seeing lots of each other.”