Through The Mirror | Yoongi ff

It's Wednesday and the sky is gloomy. The sun is hiding behind the clouds, giving off a grayish, colder than normal atmosphere. Cool breeze make the twigs sway, autumn leaves filling up every path. For Freya, it's a good day. Though the nimbostratus clouds may bring heavy rain this afternoon, it still left a smile on the young woman's face. After all, it's her first official day of becoming a strong independent woman. The twenty-three year old had fought for her independency since she turned eighteen against a strict, overprotective family. It's only when she received a job offer far away from her hometown that her mother had finally let her loose- well, kinda. There's still the announced and unannounced visitations that her mother will do from time to time. It's a deal she agreed to. Her friends saw it as "too much" but she saw it as unconditional love. "You know how to compromise." One of her friends remarked when she gave them the news. Nonetheless, she's now standing by the apartment building- seconds away from sealing it off. Her independence. "Bring it to third floor, last room to the left." The man who owns the building tells the men Freya hired to help her move her things. His attention then focuses on her. He tells her to follow him as he will give her a short tour around the unit. Before they enter the apartment, the owner gives Freya the spare key and the updated code for the automated lock. "You can change it once everything's settled." He tells her before pushing the door open. It is when they're inside that she finally let herself loose and smile so wide. Her heart is literally leaping from happiness right now. She drops the bag she's carrying to take in the familiar yet new surrounding. Freya had only seen the apartment in pictures on a f*******: post. It was sent to her by her college friend who she informed that she's looking for an apartment near her workplace. Due to the rush transfer requested by the company she's working for, she didn't have time to check it out in person. Her worries of living in an unsafe and uncomfortable place washed away once she finds how neat and pretty it actually is than the pictures she saw on the Internet. "This has to be the only presentable unit that has been used for years." The owner remarked. "It's all thanks to the previous tenant who always cleaned the place once a week. It's either she was a germaphobe or someone who just loved to clean- but I'm thankful. It's the only unit Joe didn't have to enter to clean. It helped the old guy somehow." Freya didn't know who Joe was but she thinks it's the janitor who's assigned to clean the units of the building. The owner's kind of talkative and as Freya listened to the guy talk, she let herself wander around the place. The color of the wall resembles the yellow sunflower dress she used to love when she was eighteen. The outer walls are made up of plywood stacked together painted in bright yellow but the inner walls are cemented. The floor is tiled. The lines that separates the tiles are not covered with mold- it's surprisingly bright pink. The unit has two windows. One above the sink and the other is inside the bedroom, right beside the bed. The two windows are enough to bring the needed sunlight in the apartment. Freya unhooks the window by the bed and slides it up to allow some some fresh air to get inside. Freya steps back to find a small bookshelf near the bed enough for all the books she had brought with her. It makes her smile just from the thought of it. She takes a couple of steps further, her heels turn around then a high pitched shriek leaves her mouth when she finds a face with a funny expression looking back at her: big eyes and mouth wide open, mirroring hers. "Oh my God!" Freya clutches her chest, ears red and cheeks flushed. She calms herself down once she realizes it was just her stupid reflection. Before her is a mirror attached to the wall right in front of the bed. The mirror is blurry, it has stains that she couldn't tell coming from where or what. It is big enough to take in her face and her torso. "This doesn't go with the room." She mutters before reaching her hands forward with an attempt to pull out the mirror from the wall. "It's stuck?" Her hands pull harder, clutching her small hands on the wood covered sides of the mirror. "Miss don't!" The owner shows up out of nowhere and grabbed her arm away from the mirror. It terrified Freya for a second. The man notices her expression and retreats his hand right away. "I'm sorry." His eyes casts down, regret evident. "It's just that the previous tenant requested not to remove the mirror at all." "It's ugly and already foggy. It's hard to even call it a mirror. What is there to keep?" She replies with knitted eyebrows. She didn't want to sound disrespectful but she just couldn't keep it to herself. There is no way that it makes sense at all. The unit is now hers. Why would she allow something that was of the previous tenant to stay in the unit she already own? "It was her last wish." "Sorry?" "The previous tenant died of old age and the only wish she had is to keep the mirror in the unit." The news broke her but at the same time it worried her. Freya couldn't keep her mind off of the mirror hanging right in front of her bed. It felt odd to have something from a person who passed away, especially when she barely knows the person. Everything's settled now. All her things are inside the unit and the owner has already left with the reminder that she keeps the mirror. It bugs her so much that every time she passes by it, she keeps her eyes away from it. It seriously creeps the hell out of Freya. The mirror bothers her so much that the first night she spends in her unit, she couldn't sleep well. She tosses and turns, she grunts and gasps unable to keep her occupied mind to rest. It's still Wednesday night and it's raining cats and dogs. If it doesn't creep her out even more, thunder and lightning flashes through the open window. The harsh wind is entering through it, making Freya's exposed shoulders shiver. She hurried to go under the covers a while ago and forgot to close the window. Freya decided to keep it that way. That to let the cold in and just sleep it off. Now rain started to enter as well, making her blanket damp and her shoulders literally shake. She know she have to go and close the window herself. Her feet comes out first before the rest of her body follows. Her eyes are half shut, eyelids fluttering as she stretches her hands out reaching for the window. She drags the edge of it down and hooks it fast, locking it. That was actually easy. She thought to herself. But she crosses that thought out once a lightning slams against a nearby tree. She yelps in shock, pushing her index fingers inside her ears, then turning around to ready for the loud boom of the thunder. It comes after 6 seconds, Freya had counted. Her eyes squeezes together throughout the whole sound, shaking up the glass window as it went. It's scarily close! Her back is flat against the wall beside the window. Eyes are open now while her palm is against her chest, calming her fastened heartbeats. This unconsciously led her eyes towards the mirror. She doesn't notice this until another lightning flashes. The light hitting the mirror reflects against her face. It shined so bright it made her eyes squint for a second, but through this she finds something. Her curiosity led her right in front of the mirror. Freya reaches her open hand towards the bottom of the foggy mirror. There's something written on it but it's blurry. She takes a piece of cloth, the scarf she used a while ago, and presses it against the mirror. She vehemently wipes the stains and dust away from the bottom part of the mirror, uncovering a series of letters. The scarf falls from her grip, her feet moves back, trying to see the words better as they slowly form into words then sentences in her brain. "Mirror mirror on the wall, Show me truth to it all The other side, another world Let my eyes see through the mirror." "What?" A deep chuckle escapes her chest. "Was the previous owner the Wicked Queen?" She tries to humor it. Thunder rocks the sky again, making the mirror shake. Freya apologizes quickly for the stupid joke she made about the late tenant. She's quite superstitious. • • • The twenty-three year old smashes her head with a pillow, groaning from the noise. Rock music is playing. It disrupts her peaceful sleep. Is this how thin the walls really are? The music seemed like it's coming from her room. Her alarm doesn't even sound like this. This is not an alarm, this is ear mutilation. "Ya!" Freya cries, pushing her legs up in frustration. She finally sits up, ruffling her hair, whining. Thoughts of moving to another apartment crosses her mind. Everything wrong is here. Thin walls and a creepy antique mirror. It's literally made out of a tenant's nightmare! She opens her eyes, finally, ready to demolish whoever is playing the noise (Freya don't call rock genre as music). But she closes it again, smiling sheepishly. "I must be dreaming." A forced grin follows then a laugh. The terrified woman pushes herself back to the bed, covering herself with the duvet. Repeating the words that somehow brings comfort to the seemingly Halloween special episode of a morning, "I must be dreaming." She keeps doing this until the rock music stopped. When it does, she pushes the duvet away from her then lifts her head to take a peek back to the mirror. Her eyebrows furrow together as she tries to make out of the view on the mirror. It doesn't look like a mirror now but more like an illusion. She's looking into another room- another bed opposite of hers. "What the f-" she stops midway after she finds a man walking towards his bed with dark wet hair. His hair is so wet that the water dips from the strands. Some of the water droplets end up on his toned chest. Some lands on his pelvic area, just below his abs. The guy is pale and the lower part of his body is covered by a white towel. His wet hair is covering his line of sight and he seemed like he's looking for something. Freya on the other hand- on the other side, has her saliva stuck in her throat. She didn't move an inch. Her eyes are wide as an owl as she studies the man walking around his own room. He searches under the sheets (his bed and pillow covers are all in black), then on the cabinet right next to the bed. Freya clutches the ends of her duvet, her heart is thumping fast, as the man is walking closer to the mirror. Is he going to pass through the mirror? That thought enters her now lagging brain. "Where is it?" His voice is deep and groggy. It made Freya gulp. He is now rummaging under the mirror, looking for something. Freya quite understood that there must be a table under his mirror where he is searching. She could hear keys being pulled aside and plastic bottles falling over. A sigh then escapes the pale pink lips of the guy, his shoulder slouches. It looks like he had given up looking for it, whatever it is. Without any word, he pushes his hair up and stares right into the mirror, staring right into the eyes of a horrified Freya. Freya didn't break yet, because she's still battling whether the guy could see her or not. There's a silent, deafening pause that runs for a straight twenty seconds. The two did not blink at all during that time. Freya studied his face, looking for a sense of recognition. And she sees it, the slight quirk of the eyebrows. That is when she screams, loud. Her eyes are still on the guy and when she found him moving back from the mirror and running away from sight with his hands against his ears, she screamed even louder. It got to a point where she strained her voice already that she decided to stop. The guy is no longer in sight but the room is still there. The mirror is no longer doing its sole purpose- instead it's now a window to another person's room. Freya slowly sits up, holding the duvet over her clothed torso. It's as if she was the one found out topless and in a towel. She carefully put her feet down and stands up, eyes not leaving the mirror. A slam of the door makes her jump a little, and it's not her door. The guy shows up on the mirror again, now fully clothed. His hair is already brushed properly but still damp. "Are you the new tenant?" His droopy, cold eyes follow her to the side of the window where she stood the night before, back flat against the wall. He does not seem so surprise of all this. "Y-yeah." Freya answers, stammering. "How many days since?" The guy continued to probe as if the unit itself is his. "Since yesterday?" Her mind is running with so many questions that even her answers sounds like one. "And you read it already?" It didn't sound like a question but more like a comment. A smirk forms over his lips after he says that. He opens his mouth again to say something but a call interrupts him. The guy follows the sound and finds the phone under the pillow. "There you are." He mutters lowly. Freya watches him intently as he goes on with his call. During this time, she studies him. She notices his slouchy posture and his unoccupied slender fingers casually making its way to the back of his ear, scratching that part. It seems like a habit, as he does it from time to time. She couldn't get over how pale his complexion is for a man. He's wearing a black shirt and black square pants casually, it makes his skin tone stand out more. Two rings cover his right middle and ring finger. Aside from playing with his ear, he also hiss from time to time when he is in thought. He doesn't smile much too. He looks cold and reserved. Freya slaps herself from almost believing that it is all real. She could never imagine something like this to be true in real life. It's a childish dream. Freya stuck to this idea and dropped the duvet. She approaches the mirror to face the nightmare- and hopefully wake up from it. When the guy finally ends the call with whoever he was talking with, he turns his face back to the mirror only to be surprised by the sudden close proximity he has with the new tenant. "Woah," he says in monotone. He steps back from the mirror, slightly caught off guard. "I know this is a nightmare." Freya purses her lip and stares back into the guy. He has now flopped back unto the mattress of his bed. There's a hint of perfunctory in his demeanor. Uninterested and undisturbed, the complete opposite of what Freya is going through right now. "Hey!" She pounds against the mirror, begging for his attention, begging for an answer, some kind of confirmation that this is just a nightmare. It's when she notices the still existence of the mirror. Her hands does not pass through. She realizes it's a barrier and not a complete portal. The guy sits up finally, sighing loudly. Freya couldn't tell if she really earned his interest or he's just worried she might break the mirror. "Where's Tammy?" He asks, eyes cast down, dejected. "T-tammy?" Who? Freya is already very confused and now he's asking about someone who she doesn't even know. "The previous tenant, before you. The person who owns the mirror." His voice break, and it breaks her heart too. She just realized that the man is looking for the old woman who stayed in the unit before her, and it seemed like doesn't know that she had passed away already. Freya is put into a position she doesn't know what to do or what the right thing to say. "I know you know what happened to her." He pushes, putting Freya in a corner. "Sh-she passed ..." Freya confesses. There's no really point in lying. It seemed like the guy really cares enough to know- in fact he cares more than she thought because once he heard the words come out of her mouth, he stood and took a piece of a black clothing then covered the mirror with it. He shut her away and Freya never woke up from that dream- because in the very first place, it was never a dream.