A small story

Happy Love Day everyone!

I’m in a weekly writing class, and tonight we had one of those things where you’re given the first line and asked to make a story out of it.

It being so close to Valentine’s Day, all the options were romance-related.

Me being me, however, I turned it into something else. I quite liked how it reads, for like 15 minutes of short notice scribbling, so here you go.

“I love you too,”, the reflection in the mirror said.

Karen tried to laugh, but her rapid breathing made it difficult. Her head was swimming. She stared at the hammer in her hand, as if she had no idea how it got there, nor why it glistened crimson in the dirty light from the streetlamps outside.

“He never loved you. He wanted to drive us apart. You know that”, the reflection said.

Karen forced herself to turn around. Her fiancé lay crumpled on the floor, like a marionette who’s strings had been cut. A wide-eyed expression of innocent confusion gaped up at the ceiling, as bloody matter oozed slowly out the back of his skull, framing the head with a dark, expanding halo.

“Look at me,” the reflection insisted. “Look. At. Me.” The intensity of the words caused Karen to drop the hammer in surprise. She looked. Her reflection, shining, golden, more beautiful than her in every way, smiled at her sadly, as if to say Yes, it was a terrible thing, but necessary, and it’s over now. Karen’s breathing slowed as she lost herself once more in the pitch black pools of those eyes, so unlike her own, and stumbled dreamily towards the full-length mirror.

“Yes. Now, we can be together at last,” said the reflection, reaching towards Karen. Karen reached back, fingers first bruising against the glass, then tearing open in bloody strips as the mirror finally gave way. Silvery shards fell away into the darkness.

The reflection’s smile became wider. Its lips parted, showing teeth.

Something behind the mirror grabbed her arm.


By Sarky

Freelance writing, communist propaganda, and only the very finest in depression-enhanced late night existential dread and self-deprecation.

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