"Refract" by Jacob J

  

            I saw him there. Every time I glimpsed at that reflective silvery surface, I saw him. He was my height, my same complexion, very similar in build and stature, even had a scar on his cheek, like mine. But it was not me. It couldn't possibly be me. I am me. But this, this was not me. I felt close to the person in there though, like a friend I knew long ago. I felt maybe I could reach out and touch them, give them a hug, ask them "how's life" like friends do.

Maybe I could touch them. If I could build up the courage to reach out and touch that cold, baren surface. I was afraid. I-I couldn't do it. He had piercing eyes that I couldn't concentrate on. But whenever I dropped my gaze to my hands, so did he. His movements replicated mine down to the most strange detail-details that if someone were watching me they wouldn't be able to imitate. The reconstruction of my movements was surreal: it’s not possible that a person could reproduce the EXACT movement I was doing. Unless it was me. I had no other explanation. It wasn’t me.

 

I couldn’t take it any more. I rummaged through the things in my room for something…sharp. I located the scissors from my desk and stepped back to the mirror. I half carved, half shattered the mirror until the phrase “Can you see me” appeared on the glass in a crooked, off-centered way. No change. He just stood there, waiting for my reaction, as I did his.

 

“Stalemate” I thought. I guess that was it. It was me in there, not someone else at all.

 

I tracked down one of my dress shoes, still sitting next to the bed where I left it. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t stay like this.” I said aloud to myself. I approached the mirror again, raised the heel of the shoe, and prepared to strike the already damaged face. I swung-there was a knock at the door. I didn’t order room service, who could it be? I speed anxiously, impatiently around the bed, away from the mirror, and towards the door. “Yes” I say before the door is fully open. An empty space greets me at the door. Curious. I could’ve swore-”Wait a minute” I whipped around and stormed towards the mirror. “Was that you?” I asked the reflection, still charging that unfriendly image on the wall. What happened next is a blur, and I’m unsure as to when I came to, but I was lying on the cold floor, next to the bed and…the mirror. Except it appeared in a different way compared to the last time I saw it. The glass was shattered badly, the entire center missing, to the point that I couldn’t see my face in it any longer. Wait, who’s face? I glanced in the shards that lay on the floor below where the mirror had been, and the reflection smiled.