Reflections
The word Spectrophobia flashes across my computer screen as I enter in my search. Spectrophobia: an irrational fear of mirrors usually the root of a psychological disorder, I read on, encaptured by the words and searching for treatments. Ever since my 12th birthday, I have been terrified of looking in the mirror. I was passing by the mirror, on my way to eat my frosting-covered cake, when something caught my eye. The reflection in the mirror wasn’t walking alongside me, but standing still. As a curious 12 year old, I began to investigate this oddity, when a slow smile crept across my reflection. It looked like me, same long auburn hair, same tall and lithe figure, same poofy birthday dress with lace trim, but differing with an unmistakable look of malice glinting in its emerald eyes. After noticing this evil, I screamed in terror and ran into my mother’s arms. .
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” my mother asked, concern etched amongst her feminine features.
“There is someone pretending to be me in the mirror! We have to stop them,” I babbled. My mother let out a soft chuckle and gave me a tight hug, obviously regarding my outburst as pure imagination. I groaned in frustration and refused to eat my cake or celebrate for the entire day. Later that night, I used my brother’s baseball bat to smash the window to pieces, and was grounded for a week. Thinking the problem was over, I retreated to my room with a grin and began to climb into my bed, only to see that malicious impostor staring and waving from the mirror above my bedside table. I did not sleep for the entire night.
Five years later, and I still cower at the sight of a mirror. My mother wonders why I refuse to use makeup and always have messy hair, but I tell her that I simply do not care about my looks. In reality, I stay away from her (mirror girl) at all costs.
School is the hardest place to avoid my reflection because it would be too conspicuous for me to never use the metal spoons and turn away when we perform yoga in the mirrored gym. I am forced to stare my poser in the face as she does little things to taunt me, such as pull my hair or push over the papers on my desks. I do not know how, but I know she is responsible for all of these nuisances in my life. My best friend, Natasha, insists that my fear of mirrors is ridiculous and wants me to see a shrink, but I refuse to accept that.
“Kasey, this mirror- fear is getting out of hand, I just saw you flitch at the reflection on your spoon!” Nat exclaims to me as we eat our lunch.
“Nat, I’m telling you, that thing in there is not me,” I answer, with utter seriousness.
“Whatever, loonie. By the way, that cutie over there has been staring at you all week, when do you think he will make a move?” asks Nat, with a suggestive grin. I turn to see who she was talking about and I lock eyes with a boy looking at me with curiosity. He is the most beautiful boy I had ever seen, with crystal blue eyes, dark brown hair, and an angular face, with a dimple on the left side of his mouth evident without a smile. Flushed, he looks down at his food with embarrassment and smooths his mashed potatoes with focus. This wasn’t the first time I had caught this boy staring at me with such a look of wonderment, such as in biology and yoga class.
Later that day, I walk the halls to get to math class when I felt a presence by my side. I look up into those blue eyes and am greeted with a smile.
“Hi, I’m James. I’m in your biology and yoga,” James says.
“Hi, I’m Casey and I know,” I reply with a blush.
“Sorry for staring at you all the time, I just find you extremely fascinating. Is there any chance you might want to get some food after school?” James boldly asks.
I balk at his forwardness and impulsively nod, giving him my phone number. He smiles and says he would see me later and walks the other way. I smile at the weirdness of it all, but already begin to feel nervous.
I sit in English, distracted. Why did it always feel like such a big part of me was missing, or hidden from me? Most teenagers seem to have this problem, but it feels different for me. It actually feels like someone surgically removed a piece of me. Ever since age 12, I seemed to have lost some of my vivacity. As a kid, I remembered the enjoyment I would get from pranking my brother by putting shaving cream in his baseball glove, or the thrill from climbing to the top of the jungle gym and looking down. Now, I had formed into the shy girl at school, who never wears makeup and who is the biggest pushover you ever met. Every time I try to stand up for myself, I physically cannot. That is not to say that I don’t have good qualities. I know that I am a kind person, and loyal to a fault, but is that all that I am? These self-doubting thoughts eventually dwindle until I begin to think about James. What exactly had he seen in me that he’d taken such an interest in? I guess I would find out after school.
As I walk to my car, my phone chimed with a text message. Meet me at front of school? We can go to get coffee? types James. I reply with a quick yes and travel to meet James. He greets me with a hug, forward as ever, and we walk to his car together.
“So, why do you never look in the mirror?” James asks, startling me.
“What?” I reply, appalled at his tenacity.
“I see you in yoga class inverting your eyes and notice you flinch every time you pass a window with the slightest reflection. So spill, why would someone as beautiful as you ever look away from a mirror?” James inquires. I blush at his blatant flirtations and my mind reels at how to reply to his question. Denial.
“I have no problem looking at mirrors, see?” I answer, yanking down the mirror in the front seat of the car. I look up at her and recoil, seeing the venomous staring she directs towards James.
“Hah! You can’t even view my car window without looking like you saw a ghost!” James says. “What is it about your reflection that makes you so scared.” Just as he finishes the sentence, he car shifts gears and begins to reverse.
“What the h---?” James screams as he attempts to gain control of the car. I know it was her controlling the car, so I quickly close the mirror, but not before catching her wink. The car immediately goes back into drive and James checks to see if I am okay.
“I’m sorry about that I have no idea what just happened,” James states with an apology. We continue to talk in the car until we reach the coffee shop nearest to school. I sit down and order a black coffee with three sugars while James orders a large turkey sandwich and a pastry. James and I begin to chat and I realize I have never been so comfortable with someone in my entire life. I easily tell him about my family, friends, and even what I want for my future while he answers all the same. He makes me feel as warm as the coffee. Our date, or whatever this was, continues swimmingly until he brings up the question I thought he had forgotten.
“So are you ever going to tell me about this little spectrophobia of yours,” James says easily, as if this were a word that everyday people use. I begin to think up a lie, but James can tell and cups his hand around mine.
“You can be honest with me, I won’t judge you, Kasey.” Well, here goes nothing.
“If there’s no judging here, that is not me in the mirror,” I state to James, stoically. James waits for me to elaborate but I simply sit there and let him process it.
“What is that even supposed to mean?” questions James. I explain my 12th birthday and he regards me with intensity. I go on to state my fear of the girl in the mirror and how I think she has been causing all of the mischief in my life for five years.
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” asks James. I am shocked to feel a heavy weight lift off my shoulders as he says that magical word, we. Not only does he believe me, but he wants to help me.
“I have no clue, I have always been too scared to search for answers,” I reply. James suggests that we search the library the next day to find any information we could about demonic mirrors.
“Don’t worry, Kasey, we’re gonna figure this out,” James reassures as I move to step out of his car as he drops me off. He grips my hands and gently kisses them. It feels like I had known him for years and that simple gesture qualms most of the worries littering my mind. With James by my side, maybe I could beat her.
The next week, I spend almost all my free time researching with James. We try typing things like, “demonic mirrors” or “non matching reflections” and each result is more horrifying than the last, with creatures crawling out of the mirrors to take the place of their host. As the week goes on, strange things start to happen, like books flying off the shelves to knock James in the head. The first time James really kisses me, a book actually flies from the shelf to the left and rams James in the leg with a thump. I retrieve some ice, cursing her the whole time because I know she is trying to ruin my happiness. Even though we aren’t finding anything positive, James makes me laugh nearly every second, the librarian slowly becoming our enemy with her shushes.
“When is the last time you actually stood in front of a mirror for longer than a moment?” asks James, flipping through a book called “Mirrors:a Portal to the Demon World.
“I have not stood in front of a mirror since that day five years ago,” I reply, with a chill down my spine as I remember that day. James hugs me, engulfing me in his arms and making me feel safe.
“Kas, you’re not gonna like this, but you have to try again,” James says. I jump from his arms and quickly begin protesting.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear but I will be right by your side every step of the way,” he explains, with a comforting smile. I agree to try it this weekend, sweating just thinking about standing up to that evil being.
The weekend approaches rapidly and I dread driving home on Friday.
“What’s been up with you lately, Kaseygirl, don’t get me wrong, I’m lovin’ the new boyfriend but you’re so jittery,” Nat asks with intrigue.
“I will be fine, there’s just something I have to do this weekend. Hopefully, I’ll see you on Monday,” I reply, waving goodbye to one confused best friend. I really hope I see her on Monday. When I get home, I regard the covered up mirror in my room with a mix of dread and excitement. Even if she kills me tonight or tries to steal me away, at least I would no longer have to hide in fear at my own image.
At 7 o’clock, there is a knock on the door and I am greeted by an adorable boy with a bouquet of lilies.
“ Hey, Kas, you ready to face your biggest fear? It’s gonna be easy as pie,” says James with a carefree grin. There is a hint of protection in his eyes and I already begin to feel stronger with him by my side. I walk him upstairs to my room and, together, we look at the big mirror with the black sheet shielding us from her.
“Alright, Kas, I’m gonna pull of the sheet and I want you to look yourself square in the eyes. You can do this, I believe in you and I will be here the whole time,” James reassures as I tremble, but stand tall in front of the mirror. He rips the sheet off and I am assaulted with a full view of her, my evil imposter.
“Alright, you demon or whatever you are, it’s time to stop terrorizing me,” I yell, with much more confidence than I feel. She grins back completely unphased and slowly begins to step out of the mirror. I hear James gasp and her attention snaps to him. Quickly, she runs to James and, grabbing the scissors on my bedside table, holds them to his throat.
“No, please stop!” I screech, unaware that she had this ability. Panicking, I go through all of the research James and I had done in the past week. The fear in James eyes reminds me of a passage in one of the books I leafed through while teasing James about his ruffled hair. “Mirrors have a way of completing a person. Mirrors do not simply show someone what they want to see, a reflection cannot be changed. Fear may manipulate a person into separating their true selves, but in order to come to a level of self-actualization, one must accept all parts of who they are.” states the book. That’s it. All this time cowering from mirrors, thinking it was someone else, when really it was a part of my that I was scared to admit I had and had lost all those years ago.
“Hey, let him go, take me instead!” I shout at myself, oddly enough.
“Kasey, no, it’s too dangerous!” James screams, looking out for me. She or me walked towards me with a grin, scissors outstretched, as I slowly outstretch my arms. She looks at me with confusion, and I take this moment to gather her into a big hug.
“It’s time to come back,” I tell myself, accepting who I really am, even if I did have a little malice. I absorb the person I had been so afraid of all these years and soon feel like a whole rather than a person with a missing piece. James stares at me, stupified, as I run and wrapped him in a big hug.
“You’re not going to absorb me, too, right?” James laughs, only half-serious. I punch him in the arm and laugh along with him.
In the days to follow, everyone seems to notice the change in me. I am a little bit brighter, have a little pep to my step, and even resume my harmless prank war with my brother. My mother visibly relaxes for the first time in five years as she teaches me the proper way to apply eyeliner in front of my brand-new vanity.
“I’m digging the new look, Kas, but you look beautiful no matter what,” James tells me the next day in school. I smile at him the biggest I ever have and he tries to hold my hand, only to be shocked, by my old-fashioned hand buzzer.
“Gotcha,” I wink and slip my buzzer-free hand into his, finally at ease with myself and my life.