Okay, so, there’s something I need to get off my chest. I have only worn make-up once in my life. That’s because of something that happened to me when I was around twelve or thirteen years old.
Like most mothers, my mom didn’t want me to wear make-up and neither did my dad, stepmom, Talia, or my stepdad, John. Mom only wanted me to use the basics, nail polish, chapstick, and other things like that. I asked her why I couldn’t wear make-up. She just smiled and squished my cheeks, saying something like “Because you’re too pretty for make-up.”
I brushed it off until my birthday, when my older sister, Laila, and my nephew, Nick, came over with some birthday presents. Laila gave me a small mirror to put on my side of the cubbies that me and my little sister, Rosanna, shared. Nick, being the little sweetheart that he is, gave me a hand-made card that said “You’re my favorite aunt!“ in big block letters.
I was grateful for the gifts and thanked Laila and Nick profusely. After they left, I waited for my best friend, Ann, to show up. Mom had let me invite her over. Mom really liked Ann. Sometimes she’d say that she wished I was more like Ann. But I’m getting off the topic at hand.
Ann showed up and we talked, before I got to open my presents from her. I opened one of them and it was a small bag of make-up. It came in a cute little zipper bag with chibi drawings of sweets with big eyes on it. Inside was some lip gloss, mascara, a nail kit and polish, and eyeshadow. I loved it. But, John was less than thrilled when he saw the bag. “So now she wears make-up?” he had asked, sounding irritated.
Mom took John out of the room to explain that Ann didn’t know that I couldn’t wear make-up, while Ann herself and I set up he PlayStation to play our favorite game at the time, Little Big Planet.
After while, Ann left and I went to my room with my new goodies. I decided that I wanted to see how it felt to wear make-up. So I got the mirror from Laila and the make-up bag from Ann and started teaching myself how to put it on. I used the mirror to look at myself after I finished. Something felt off.
I was sure that Roseanne was out with her aunt, Lexi, and no one had been in my room with me. I looked around, before jokingly saying to myself, “Do you know what that it?” to my reflection. To my surprise, she responded to my question, her voice sounding like it was being laced through a broken radio. I’ll never forget what she said: “Maybe.”
She said it in such a knowing way, that I was pushed to ask what it was.
My reflection giggled a haunting laugh, before she answered, “It’s me, Alice.”
I shuddered and almost dropped the mirror, but I couldn’t smash her. Not until I knew what was going on. “How can you talk?” I asked. “All of us can talk Alice!” she replied, like it was an obvious fact. “Garrot’s reflection, Charlie’s reflection, Roseanne’s reflection, heck, even Mom’s can.”
”Why don’t any of you talk to us?”
The next words that left her glass mouth still haunt my nightmares to this day.
”Because we need to wait until the perfect moment, Allison.”
Suddenly, her hand thrusted through the mirror and gripped me by the neck. She used me to pull herself from her glassy home. She smiled at me as I quickly rushed to the door, fumbling with the handle. To my horror, I couldn’t open the door.
“I want what you have, Allison,” she told me. “I want freedom too! But none of us can have that!” She grabbed the front of my shirt. “Do you know what that’s like?! Being stuck like that! Being forced to follow in someone else’s footsteps!? No, of curse you don’t!” She pinned me up against the wall. “But now you will,” she said. “I’m going to take your place.”
She grabbed the mirror and was able to force my head into it, followed by the rest of me. Then, she smashed the mirror, and me along with it.
Now, I bet you’re wondering how I’m able to write this if I’m dead. Well, let me explain in words someone like you will understand.
I’m free now.
Maybe you should think twice before you decide to kiss your reflection in the mirror. Have a nice night now.
