My name is Alex, and I live in a dimension not unlike your own. But there’s one stark difference: mirrors here aren’t just for checking your appearance. They’re doorways to alternate realities, each a slight deviation from the next. Because of the inherent risks and unpredictable nature of these portals, mirrors had been outlawed for years.
Being a physicist at 25, I was always drawn to the legends of these mirror realms. My curiosity led me to a dusty antique store, managed by an odd elderly gentleman known for possessing rare and prohibited items. With a mix of trepidation and excitement, I asked him about a mirror.
The old shopkeeper, eyes twinkling with mischief, ushered me into a dimly lit back room. There, veiled in shadows, was a magnificent mirror. Its frame was decorated with detailed engravings of intertwined worlds. The cost was exorbitant, but the mirror’s allure was too strong for me to resist. Thinking it would be a fascinating piece for my collection, I bought it.
One quiet evening, after a draining day at the lab, I sat in my study with the mirror facing me. The only sounds were the rhythmic ticking of my wall clock and the faint noises of the city outside. As I absentmindedly stared into the mirror, I realized something was amiss. My reflection wasn’t mirroring my actions. Instead, it sat there, smugly observing me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
Driven by curiosity, I leaned in. To my shock, my reflection began to converse. “Growing weary of your ordinary life?” it taunted.
Stammering, I managed to ask, “Who… who are you?”
It laughed softly, “I’m you. Well, a version of you from a world where I made different choices. Choices that led me to… greater success.”
As we talked, my reflection described a life of fame, immense wealth, and love. It was the life I had always yearned for, every missed chance taken, every regret made right. The allure was overpowering.
Sensing my intrigue, my reflection proposed, “Touch the mirror. We can swap places. Live a life where every misstep you lamented turned out in your favor.”
With a mix of hesitation and curiosity, I reached out. As soon as my fingers made contact with the mirror’s cold surface, my surroundings became a blur. When clarity returned, I was no longer in my familiar apartment but in a luxurious penthouse.
Initially, this new life seemed like a dream. I was a celebrated scientist, surrounded by a loving family, with every conceivable luxury at my fingertips. However, as days morphed into weeks, the glamour faded. My achievements were founded on dubious ethics, my fortune built on exploitation, and my family was terrified of my volatile moods.
Desperate to revert to my old life, I ran to the mirror, hoping to reverse our positions. But my reflection, now enjoying my simpler existence, just smirked back. “You chose this,” it murmured, “and so did I.”
In a state of panic, I tracked down the old shopkeeper, seeking a solution. After hearing my story, he disclosed a chilling fact: for a swap to be successful, both sides had to willingly agree. My alternate self had deceived me, eager to flee a life of empty achievements and sorrow.
Heartbroken by this revelation, I frantically searched for another mirror, yearning for a new beginning in a different world. But mirrors were a rarity, and all my efforts proved fruitless.
Now, I’m stuck in a reality that isn’t truly mine, a constant reminder of the perils of desiring a seemingly flawless existence.
However through my phone I seem to be able to post in other dimensions. I hope someone who can help me sees this. I wish you well.
Alex