Blog Post #1- My reflection is dead
Dear Reader,
I have seen death. No, that isn’t clickbait!
For once, I am at a loss for words. This morning I woke up (nothing funny there and I don’t like to start my posts with it, but it’s the only normal thing that happened) and I went into the bathroom to get ready for the day. I was twiddling with the end of my hair, still contained in a sleep braid to keep my curls within reason (check out previous posts for haircare advice). I already had toothpaste on the toothbrush and lifted it up to my mouth when I noticed I had no reflection.
At first, I thought it might be some sort of prank. Last month that was all the rage and I know I prank quite a few people myself. I have no idea how someone would get a reflection not to reflect… if you do, maybe shoot me a DM.
Anyhow, back on point, I’m feeling a bit scattered by all this. Everything else in the mirror was reflecting correctly. Even the toothbrush showed up as I lifted it up. Thinking something might be wrong with the mirror, I picked up my hand mirror and focused it on my face. Nothing. No matter how I twisted or turned the angle I stood in, I couldn’t catch my reflection at all.
I always like to see myself in the morning, pretty certain that’s normal, but somehow not being able to view my reflection made it truly desperate that I get a glimpse. I’m sure you remember from my post last month that I had those full-length mirrors installed in the living room so I could focus on my dancing form better. This morning, I decided to skip the toothbrushing, and I hurried out to give my dancer’s mirrors another use—giving me peace of mind.
I was hoping to see my reflection there. Maybe I should have hoped more carefully, because while I saw my reflection, it wasn’t exactly soothing. What I actually saw was my reflection lying dead on the floor.
Not proud of it, but I kind of froze at that point, just staring. Did this mean that I was dead? Maybe I was a ghost and just didn’t know it yet wandering around my house, but without a physical body, I couldn’t reflect.
And the me lying on the floor was obviously dead. Pasty pale skin, limbs stiff, eyes glazed and mouth white. Seeing myself dead was a very surreal sort of thing and not a heartening experience.
But I felt real and alive. Just to assure myself, I pressed a finger to my neck and there was a pulse. My mouth tasted sort of bitter and swampy… you know, like I’d skipped brushing my teeth that morning. I pinched my arm and the bite of my nails hurt. There aren’t a lot of facts about ghosts to check against, but I didn’t think I fit the bill.
Let me know if you have any pertinent facts!
My first reaction was to run out of the house, but something about my dead reflection called to me. In the reflection, I was wearing my pajamas and my hair was still in my sleep braid. Pretty much exactly as I looked physically in real life except, my reflection was holding this scrap of paper with neat black writing on it. Her dead fingers were clamped tightly on the paper. I recognized the handwriting as my own and moved closer, trying to get a peak at what mirror-me had written. No matter how I turned or twisted, or adjusted the light, I couldn’t make it out.
And I didn’t really have time to figure it out. It’s a workday after all, though… I’m not sure what the precedent for skipping work after seeing your dead reflection is, but I know my boss wouldn’t like it. More on this later. I’m off to work.
But I feel like there’s something on that paper that I need to discover, something important.
Blog Post #2- Following the clues
Dear Reader,
Okay, back for another entry. Two posts a day won’t become my new normal, but just this once it seems justified!
My reflection wasn’t in any of the mirrors at work or on any reflective surfaces. I thought I could power through and just have a normal day, but that didn’t work. I haven’t even gotten around to answering all of your comments—sorry about that. It was just too weird seeing myself absent from the windows I walked by and the bathroom mirrors. I haven’t been able to focus on anything else.
So I bowed out of work, sick. Everyone believed me. I must look a fright. Not like I can tell since I can’t see myself. And no… I’m not posting any pictures. I’m a little afraid I won’t show up there either, so I’m not looking!
Not being able to see myself is just awful, though.
Except… that’s a lie. I can see myself, just I can only do that in the one reflection in the dancer’s mirrors in the living room. I’m glancing over at her now. She’s still in her pajamas and sleep braid. And that paper is still clutched in her hand.
I admit that by the time I bailed on work and saw all of your curious comments from this morning’s post, I was committed to reading what that paper said. But no matter what I tried, I couldn’t make it out. I even attempted bringing in a magnifying glass, but that reflected in the mirror and blocked the paper entirely. That attempt failed and without some sort of aid, the angle was just too bad and the words too distant.
Luck was on my side (was it? I mean, if luck was really on my side, none of this would be happening!) And when I went to get some fresh air, my hair blew up in my face, tickling at my nose and cheeks. I had an idea. Despite what some of the trolls on this page think, I do have those on occasion.
The wind was really kicking outside and if that was true here, maybe it was true for my reflection’s reality. After all, everything else from the room I was in was still reflecting properly.
Once I was back inside the house, I opened the window and let the wind rustle the paper in my reflection’s hand. The first attempt didn’t really help. The second attempt knocked the paper loose just a little, freeing one corner of the paper to rustle and wave as the gusts of air hit. After a few tries of opening and closing the window, I got the note into a position that was readable. I had to squint, but I made out the text.
I’m almost afraid to record what it said here. I’ll sleep on it.
Blog Post #3- The message on the paper
Dear Reader,
Stop with the comments, please. Some things are serious. I’ve already called in sick to work and honestly, I almost didn’t sit down here to write. A lot of you have commented about the note and yesterday’s posts. I’m not sure how to feel about what you are saying… I’m a little insulted honestly.
This isn’t some goofy prank. I’m attaching a picture (turns out I do show up on camera). I tried to get my reflection in the shot. You can kind of see her there in the corner, lying on the carpet. See? You can see that, right?
Once I took the picture, I threw a blanket over the spot where my reflection is lying. I hoped it would cover her up on her side. She looks more and more dead by the hour… but my attempt with the blanket didn’t do much. It appeared underneath her on the reflection. Maybe because on this side she isn’t here. I can’t manipulate her directly.
I lit a candle and said a little prayer but that felt off. Like who am I mourning exactly? She’s me. I’m her. There really isn’t a clear way to proceed at this point.
Whatever else is true, people seem interested in the note and I can’t stop going over the words, so I decided to share a little more. I need to share something. My head is spinning, and I feel oddly alone. You don’t think of your reflections as being a part of you or as being a friend… but I think she was. I miss her.
The note in my reflection’s hand said: I apologize for the shock. The end of your plane (of existence) is near, but you can save yourself by traversing to my side of the reflection. I thought long and hard about how to save you and I could find no perfect option. As we can’t coexist in the same place at the same time, I killed myself for you to have a chance to live. I’m also giving you instructions on how to trespass between planes through the mirror when the time arrives. You will know when the moment has come. Wish you a long and happy life. Love you…
That’s it. Or that isn’t it… there is quite a bit more. But I’m not sharing anything beyond that. She did leave instructions, but I feel weird sharing them. Somehow, I know that they were only meant for me to see. Giving you access is a trespass that feels unforgivable.
However, I do feel I owe my readers something. The instructions are strange and very specific… not the sort of instructions I ever would have deemed necessary to cross planes. I know that I couldn’t have made them up.
This is the second day of no reflections and I admit it’s affecting my head. I can’t really tell anyone but you since I’d probably just be bundled off into a straitjacket. I’m trying to laugh it off and hoping that tomorrow, when I wake up, everything will be back to normal. Maybe I’ll be able to forget about all of this like a bad dream.
But nothing feels right. My own dead face stares back at me.
Blog Post #4- Don’t you feel it?
Dear Reader,
I realize it has been days and I haven’t written but… well, this blog seems kind of pointless. And I have been reading your (often nasty) comments. No, this is still not a joke and no, I have not lost my mind. I have never been more certain of anything.
I wish there was a way I could make you see how serious this is.
It is a shock that all of you can’t feel the dark aura wafting over the world.
The air feels different. Everything is different. The end is upon us. I feel it in the air, moving on the wind, in the hollow sound of people’s voices.
No one else seems to notice. They just go on with their lives, completely oblivious to the ominous shadows that are slowly but surely embracing the world. Certainly, your comments don’t reflect any sort of awareness… reflect… how odd to use that word so casually.
Before now, I never pondered reflections much at all, but now, I think often of what a reflection is and of what it would mean to live in a world of reflected objects. Is the light different there? Is there sound? Smell?
If I’m going to live there, I suppose I’ll find out, but it is worrisome not knowing. What happens in the reflections’ plane of existence when the reflection isn’t in use? Do they act on their own or just wait for us? If I’m a reflection, but I no longer exist in this plane of existence… what does that mean?
Finding out is both exciting and terrifying. This is similar to what I always imagined a bride felt like on her wedding day. I’ll never get married now (will I? Maybe that happens where I’m going too… don’t know.) But these nerves are spot on to what I imagined, which makes me think something good is waiting for me… a new life is going to start.
I must leave this plane of existence. I’ve gone over my reflection’s instructions for gaining access to an alternate plane again and again. I know the way, and I’m prepared to follow each step. I really don’t know why I haven’t already.
Even typing this feels hollow and empty. I guess I just want to wish my friends and family good luck. I want to see if any of you out there reading this have the same experience… maybe I can hope to meet some of you on the other side. I really don’t know what will happen to those left behind, to those who can’t feel the doom in the air.
I’m afraid to go alone. That’s the truth. Yet the body in the mirror is rotting now, little mold patches mar my face. I feel I owe it to my reflection to help her somehow, but…
I’m afraid. What is on that side?
Doom is all that remains here, but what awaits me there? There is something about the unknown that is terrifying, that humanity has hidden from for its entire existence. We like to understand, but sometimes understanding is not in the cards. Sometimes, we need to have faith.
Blog Post #5- Peace
Dear Reader,
All doubt has fled. I am on the only path possible for me to take. Even reading your comments now leaves me with a slow, sad feeling, as if even in the impersonal medium of the internet I can feel the clouds swooping in and drowning out the edges of this plane of existence. You mean nothing. Or you mean everything, but that version of everything is fading.
This will be my last blog post. I apologize, but your comments will go unread. This is the last time I will sit at this computer and reach across the electronic void. A new home will welcome me soon. I am certain that peace, serenity, and beauty awaits me.
I hope you also find peace in whatever is coming.
Farewell and may we meet again on the other side.