The Girl Inside The Mirror

Aria Vale hated mirrors.  She had never been able to explain exactly why.  It wasn't the ordinary kind of dislike people had for seeing themselves after waking up with messy hair or tired eyes. Aria didn't care about that. She could stand in front of a bathroom mirror and brush her hair without a problem.  It was the feeling.  The strange, crawling feeling that settled between her shoulder blades whenever she looked at her reflection for too long.  Like someone was watching her.  Like someone was waiting.  When she was seven, she had told her mother that her reflection had moved before she did.  Her mother had dropped a plate.  When Aria was ten, she had woken up screaming because she had seen a girl standing behind her in the mirror.  There had been nobody in her bedroom.  When she was thirteen, she had finally decided she was imagining everything.  At seventeen, she stopped believing that.  Because on the night of her birthday, her reflection blinked when she didn't.  ---  "You're staring at it again."  Aria looked away from the bathroom mirror.  June was standing in the doorway, holding two slices of birthday cake on a plate.  "Staring at what?"  June raised an eyebrow.  "The mirror."  "I'm not."  "You were."  "I was brushing my hair."  "You've been holding the brush in the same position for about thirty seconds."  Aria looked down.  She was.  She lowered the brush.  "Happy?"  "Very."  June walked into the bathroom and handed her the plate.  "Your mother said you're supposed to eat this before she catches you hiding in your room again."  Aria took the plate.  "I wasn't hiding."  "You were absolutely hiding."  "I was reading."  "You were hiding while reading."  "That's different."  June laughed.  She was one of the few people who could make Aria laugh even when she didn't feel like it.  They had known each other since primary school, which meant June knew nearly everything about Aria.  Nearly.  There were some things Aria had never told her.  Like how mirrors made her uncomfortable.  Like how sometimes she dreamed about a place she had never visited.  Or how, every few months, she would wake up remembering a girl's face she couldn't place.  June sat on the edge of the bathtub.  "So," she said, "seventeen."  Aria groaned.  "Don't say it like that."  "Why?"  "It sounds old."  June stared at her.  "Seventeen?"  "Exactly."  "You're officially ancient."  "Thank you."  "You're welcome."  Aria smiled.  For a moment, everything felt normal.  Her birthday.  Her best friend.  Her mother downstairs preparing dinner.  The familiar house.  The rain tapping against the windows.  Nothing strange.  Nothing magical.  Nothing impossible.  Then Aria glanced at the mirror.  Her smile disappeared.  Her reflection was smiling too.  But there was something wrong with it.  Not enough to immediately notice.  Just enough to make her stomach tighten.  Aria turned her head slightly.  The reflection copied her.  She raised her hand.  The reflection raised its hand.  She lowered it.  The reflection lowered it.  Normal.  She exhaled.  "What's wrong?" June asked.  "Nothing."  "You look pale."  "I'm fine."  June studied her.  Then she shrugged.  "Okay. Come downstairs before your mother sends a search party."  Aria followed her out.  Neither of them noticed the reflection remain in the mirror for one second longer than it should have.  ---  Dinner was loud.  Maraine had bought Aria's favorite food and made far more than two people could possibly eat.  There were candles on the table.  A cake sat in the middle.  June sang the birthday song terribly on purpose.  Aria laughed so hard she nearly dropped her fork.  For the first time all day, she forgot about the mirror.  She forgot about the strange feeling.  She forgot about everything.  Until her mother brought out the final gift.  It was small.  Wrapped in dark blue paper.  Aria looked at it.  "What's this?"  "Your birthday present."  "You already got me something."  "That was from me."  Maraine smiled.  "This is different."  Aria carefully opened it.  Inside was an old silver bracelet.  It was simple, except for one tiny symbol engraved on the inside.  A circle.  Split down the middle.  Aria frowned.  "What does this mean?"  Maraine's smile vanished.  Only for a second.  But Aria noticed.  "Nothing," her mother said.  "Then why is it on the bracelet?"  "It's just decoration."  Aria turned it over.  There was another engraving.  A name.  ARIA.  Her fingers froze.  "You had this made?"  Maraine nodded.  "Years ago."  "Years?"  "I ordered it before you were born."  Aria looked up.  "Why?"  Her mother's eyes flickered toward the hallway.  Toward the stairs.  Toward the attic.  Then back to Aria.  "I thought it would be something you'd keep."  The answer didn't make sense.  But before Aria could ask another question, the lights flickered.  Once.  Twice.  Then they came back.  June looked up.  "Okay. That was creepy."  Maraine didn't laugh.  She was staring at the dark hallway.  Aria followed her gaze.  Nothing was there.  "Mom?"  Maraine blinked.  "I'm fine."  But she wasn't.  Aria could tell.  ---  Later that night, June left.  Maraine went upstairs.  Aria stayed in the kitchen washing dishes.  Rain continued falling outside.  The house became quiet.  Too quiet.  Aria dried the final plate and placed it in the cupboard.  Then she heard it.  A knock.  Three soft taps.  She turned around.  Nothing.  Another three taps.  This time, louder.  Aria looked toward the kitchen window.  Nothing.  The sound came again.  Three taps.  She followed it.  The hallway.  Three taps.  The bathroom.  She stopped.  The bathroom door was open.  The light was off.  And inside, the mirror reflected the empty hallway behind her.  Aria slowly stepped closer.  She looked at herself.  Everything appeared normal.  Dark hair.  Tired eyes.  The bracelet around her wrist.  She lifted her hand.  The reflection lifted its hand.  Aria lowered hers.  The reflection lowered hers.  She frowned.  Then she noticed something.  The reflection wasn't breathing.  Aria held her breath.  The girl in the mirror did the same.  Aria took a step backward.  The reflection didn't.  It stayed close to the glass.  Watching her.  Aria's heart began pounding.  "No."  The reflection smiled.  Aria didn't.  She stumbled backward.  The reflection raised one finger.  Then it slowly pressed that finger against the glass.  A tiny sound came from inside the mirror.  Tap.  Tap.  Tap.  Aria couldn't move.  The reflection opened its mouth.  No sound came out.  Then it raised its hand and began tracing letters across the mirror.  The glass fogged beneath its fingertip.  One letter appeared.  Then another.  Then another.  Aria's breath caught.  Y  O  U  She stepped closer without meaning to.  More letters appeared.  HAVE  TO  REMEMBER  The final word appeared slowly.  ME.  Aria stared.  The girl in the mirror stared back.  Then the reflection blinked.  This time, Aria didn't.  Her stomach dropped.  "Who are you?"  The girl tilted her head.  She pointed toward the bracelet.  Aria looked down.  The symbol on the bracelet was glowing faintly.  The split circle.  The same symbol she had seen somewhere before.  But where?  The reflection placed both hands against the glass.  Cracks began spreading from beneath its palms.  Aria screamed.  The mirror shattered.  Glass exploded across the bathroom floor.  Aria fell backward.  Then everything went silent.  For several seconds, she couldn't hear anything except her own breathing.  She looked at the broken mirror.  The pieces lay scattered across the floor.  Her reflection was gone.  Aria slowly got to her feet.  Then she heard footsteps running upstairs.  "Aria!"  Her mother.  Maraine appeared in the doorway.  She stopped.  Her eyes went straight to the broken mirror.  The color drained from her face.  Aria had never seen her mother look like that.  Not when they received bad news.  Not when Daniel disappeared.  Not even when Aria had been sick as a child.  This was fear.  Pure fear.  "Mom..."  Maraine grabbed her shoulders.  "Did you look into it?"  Aria stared at her.  "What?"  "The mirror."  "Yes."  Maraine's grip tightened.  "What did you see?"  Aria swallowed.  "My reflection."  Her mother shook her head.  "No."  Aria's voice trembled.  "It wasn't my reflection."  Maraine went completely still.  "What did it say?"  Aria hesitated.  Then she repeated the words.  "It said I had to remember it."  Maraine closed her eyes.  For a moment, she looked as though she might collapse.  Then she whispered something Aria couldn't hear.  "What?"  Maraine opened her eyes.  "Nothing."  "You know what this is."  "No."  "Mom."  "I said no."  "You do know!"  Maraine stepped away.  Her hands were shaking.  She looked toward the ceiling.  Toward the attic.  Aria noticed.  "You've been hiding something from me."  Maraine didn't answer.  "Is this about Dad?"  That did it.  Her mother's expression changed.  Aria had hit something.  Something important.  "Why would you ask that?"  "Because you always do this whenever Dad comes up."  "Your father has nothing to do with this."  "Then tell me what does."  Maraine looked at the broken mirror.  Then at Aria.  "Go to your room."  "No."  "Aria."  "No. I'm seventeen now. You can't keep telling me nothing and expect me to accept it."  Her mother's eyes filled with something that looked almost like sadness.  "You should have never seen her."  Aria's anger disappeared.  "Who?"  Maraine looked at the broken glass.  "The girl."  Before Aria could ask another question, every light in the house went out.  Darkness swallowed the hallway.  Then—  CRASH.  A sound came from downstairs.  Maraine grabbed Aria's hand.  "Stay behind me."  "What happened?"  Another crash.  Then another.  Glass breaking.  One window.  Then another.  Then another.  Aria's heart raced.  "Mom..."  Maraine pulled her toward the stairs.  "Don't look at the mirrors."  "What?"  "Whatever you hear, don't look at them."  They reached the bottom of the stairs.  The living room was dark.  Moonlight spilled through the windows.  Broken glass covered the floor.  Every mirror in the house had shattered.  Except one.  The old mirror in the hallway.  The mirror Maraine had f*******n Aria from touching.  The mirror that had been covered by a white sheet for as long as Aria could remember.  The sheet was lying on the floor.  The mirror stood uncovered.  Aria stared at it.  There was no reflection.  Not hers.  Not her mother's.  Nothing.  Just darkness.  Then two silver eyes appeared behind the glass.  Aria stopped breathing.  A girl's face slowly emerged from the darkness.  The same girl.  The same pale face.  The same silver eyes.  But this time, she wasn't smiling.  She looked frightened.  She lifted one hand.  And mouthed three words.  Aria couldn't hear her.  But she understood.  "He's coming back."  Maraine suddenly screamed.  "RUN!"  Aria didn't know who her mother meant.  She didn't know who he was.  She didn't know who the girl was.  She didn't know what was behind the mirror.  But as Maraine dragged her toward the front door, Aria looked back one last time.  The girl inside the mirror was gone.  And written across the glass were four words.  HE KNOWS YOUR NAME.