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I'm not going to lie; I've been afraid of mirrors since I was eight. I think it all started with me watching a movie of something coming out of a mirror, but I can't be sure. Even at my grandmother's house in southern Ohio, the broken dolls and movements in the shadows couldn't compare to my single, terrifying fear of mirrors. I remember running in and out of the bathroom, washing my hands with my face so close to the water that it almost naturally cleaned my face. My father used to make fun of me for "being afraid of my reflection" but I didn't care.

I also remember a time when me and my friend were obsessed with "Bloody Mary," which may have caused some of the fear. Everyday, one time or another, we would mention Bloody Mary. One time I tried it in the bathroom and I heard the unmistakable tone of an old music box coming from the mirror. I had been home alone.

Even now, I have no mirrors in my room, no reflective photo frames, no un-covered windows. The only mirror I have in my home is in my bathroom. I close the door whenever possible, but I always have that brooding sense that I closed it this morning. I don't know why I feel that way, but I do. Luckily for me, I rarely have to walk close to it throughout the day, so my fear is rarely pushed to an actual scream.

Because of my fear of mirrors, I naturally look unkempt. I never bothered to put on make-up. I wash my face in the shower, never closing my eyes for fear of seeing something in the mirror, or something FROM the mirror. For a girl, I look quite pathetic. Being made fun of for ugliness was fine, as long as I could keep away from that horrifying mirror.

I heard something about mirrors that terrified me: If you looked at your reflection in darkness for more than ten seconds, your face would distort. I found this entertaining enough to where I almost tried it. I couldn't work up the nerve to close the door, so I scratched it. No sir, I wasn't gonna tempt whatever was behind that facade.

One day I was actually going to look in a mirror for a good, long time. I will admit that I would occasionally look in the mirror, it would be near impossible not to, but with the door open, lights on, and I would just think about whatever was needed to be done that day. However, today was different. I was going to, "face my fears," I think that is the correct term... I'm having trouble thinking correctly.

I almost had second thoughts about doing it, since I'd been thinking about it all day. However terrified I was, I knew I had to do it. I turned my hallway light on, walked in the bathroom, shut the door. I left out a huge sigh, putting my hair back behind my ears, staring deep into my own, horrified eyes. I put my hand on the light switch. Just as I was about to turn off the light, I knew something was wrong. My face looked... scrawnier. I'm normally pretty chubby for my height, but my reflection was about the size of a 120 pound woman. I eyed it carefully and accidentally flicked the light off, even though I hadn't moved my finger. I tried to flick the light on with one hand, but to no avail. With my right hand, I frantically tried to open the door, but it was jammed. I tried breaking it down, but I couldn't. I didn't look at the mirror. I knew IT had something to do with it... but I had no idea what. I sat down, a ridiculous amount of crazy-minded voices filling my head. I grabbed my head, rolling directly underneath the mirror, only being shielded from its view by the sink.

I'm pretty sure I fell asleep or fainted, since my light had either blown or... I don't know what... and I was in almost complete darkness. However I could still faintly see, even with no light source visible. I wondered how long I would be in here. What if I had to look in the mirror? I decided that maybe that was the best course of action. I had my back to the mirror, took a deep breath, and turned around. Nothing was in it. I looked in close. I reached up an unsteady hand and touched it. It was ice cold. My hand went numb from touching it. After a moment of shaking my hand, I glanced back. still nothing. The perfect reflection of my bathroom.

I looked under my door. Oddly bright, despite little light going into the bathroom. Something weird was going on. I reached under the door, but my hand went ice cold once more. I sighed and laid back down. I was tough. I wasn't going to cry. I fell asleep once more.

When I woke back up, my back ached. However, it wasn't as noticeable as the mirror. Someone was IN it. It was almost like looking into a window. I got up and stared into it. The lights were on, the door showing a hallway behind it. It was a man, a little unshaven, talking to a police officer behind him.

"...didn't show up for work this morning, I got worried. Alice always told us when she wasn't going to be there, so I naturally got worried."


"She's been gone a week, right?"

"Yeah." A WEEK? It only seemed like a few hours. Wait... how was I seeing this? My name was Alice... my coworker...

I hit the mirror once. "Help," I said. He looked unfazed. I got both hands, and started pounding on the mirror. "HELP!!!! HELP!!!!" He turned to the police officer.

"It's a creepy mirror, ain't it?"

"I guess. Well, we better leave. She might show up soon." I watched them leave through MY bathroom, through MY hallway.

I was inside my own mirror. That was when I noticed my coworker's phone that he had left in the bathroom. I live in the middle of nowhere so I don't have any signal... He's going to be back soon to get his phone... then I'll be trapped- JUST HELP

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