It all started after I saw my reflection blink.
Then all the mirrors seemed to lose their minds. They would show reflections of the room at the wrong time of the day. I would stand before the mirror in the sunny afternoon and see a darkened room full of moonlight and silence. The mirror downstairs showed my reflection as a child, screaming for my parents. The bathroom mirror was blank.
I smashed them all but they healed themselves.
I look in them now and I don’t recognise the person staring back, but it’s clear that he’s trying to get out.
Another Friday Fictioneers story with prompt supplied by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
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