Shatter

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. I'm not sure it showed any kind of reflection at all, even though it used to. The gaunt, haunting figure was purely the mirror's delusion of me, nothing real or tangible lived inside the silver anymore.

Ungrateful. I had given so many gorgeous antiques such lovely little homes. The china set from the late 1800's had never betrayed me this way. They sat in the cabinet, little blue patterns resting quietly until I had someone important enough over for dinner. My mink coat never attempted to strangle me, it was content to rest upon my small frame on chilly downtown nights. This mirror... ungrateful.

"Rosamund, we're late."

At my husbands urging, I applied my lipstick hurriedly in the now perfectly normal reflection. Fickle thing.

"I'm coming," I called from the vanity. I straightened the collar on my blouse and fled from the confusing piece of furniture.

Our night was perfectly lovely, a quiet celebration with a few friends at a decent restuarant. Charles and Olivia finally got engaged and wanted an intimate pre-engagement-party party. Understandable since Olivia's parents were sure to take over, curating the perfect wedding season for their little society princess.

A headache pushed itself into my left eye, the wine doing little to subdue the ache. I excused myself for a moment to step outside, hoping the fresh air and quiet would help a bit. I stood at the curb outside of the charming Spanish restaurant and breathed in the downtown humidity. It had just finished raining for probably the third time that day, a fun winter day for everyone.

I rolled my head around, stretching my neck. I caught a glimpse of myself in the puddle that had formed on the pavement next to me and nearly cried out. The same ragged ghoul was rolling her neck to match. One blink and I wasn't even in the puddle anymore, in fact I had to move to the right to appear in the water. I was really losing it if my hallucinations were following me around town. In goes one of my pretty little pills the doctor prescribed.

"Roz? You ok?" I felt Ezekiel's arm slip around my waist.

"Yeah, just a headache," I smiled up at him and brushed a crumb off his collar. "I'm good now."

The rest of the night disappeared into the downtown atmosphere. Some bar-hopping mixed with my lovely little pills and set everything into a haze. Eventually I found myself sitting on the edge of our bed, Ezekiel tugging the blouse off my shoulders so I wouldn't fall asleep in it.

"Feeling ok?" His voice sounded like it came from a different room. I nodded, head heavy with exhaustion and red wine. Next I was under our down comforter and drifting into what I hoped would be deep, restful sleep. I didn't have a headache anymore.

It should've been dark. The moon broke that illusion, pale blue light swimming inside our bedroom from a crack in the curtains. I turned over, away from the window. I was about to close my eyes when I saw my reflection in the vanity mirror. No, not me. I mean, I was there, but that woman lay more still than I did. Her expression was twisted, eyes wide and dark, haunted by some existential knowledge she possessed and I did not.

I watched, frozen, as Ezekiel's reflection sat up slowly, as if pulled up from the ceiling. Something ungrounded riddled his movements, they were syrupy and disjointed. I couldn't move, I couldn't turn my head to see if this was really happening. I felt an intense pressure on my torso as Ezekiel's reflection reached it's hand to my shoulder. His mouth moved but no sound came through.

My heart raced, watching the scene play out, feeling as though this Other Ezekiel sat on my shoulder. All of sudden, the reflection tore at my shoulder and the room broke into a scream of pain and agony.

"Roz! Rosamund!" Ezekiels voice shot me into clarity. I was sitting up in bed, facing the vanity, which now showed our very normal reflections.

"I-I-ah... a dream," I consoled myself as I pried my hand off my own shoulder, leaving nail marks in the skin.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" He kissed the side of my head and pulled my down to rest on his chest.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, yes I'm alright. Just a dream." I braved one last glance at the mirror. Our two figures now sat at the edge of the bed in their world, staring at us with malicious curiosity.