![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
dedra.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: The Looking Glass
Fandom: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: She heard about things like this in college, but she was an accountant, for God's sake--they didn't happen to her.
The mirror stood in the antique store for a long while, waiting for the perfect buyer to come along—the one that it was made for, the one that it longed for since the last owner. It knew the moment the bell over the door jingled and shattered the silence of the dusty air that she had arrived and it was time to remove the glamour that masked it from the rest of the world.
With an imperceptible ripple, it shivered and shook the dust out of each intricately carved curlicue. The gilt brightened and the silver renewed itself on the back of the mirror, glimmering in the weak sunlight that filtered in through the stacks and mishmash of junk that had accumulated throughout the store owner’s lifetime. With a subtle, human move, it was out of the hidden corner at the end of the maze and in a place of prominence at the end of the aisle, reflecting the plethora of collectibles that surrounded it in a surface that seemed brighter than new.
With a ruffle and shimmy, it settled down to wait for her—the one destined to buy it.
Ann opened the door to the shop with a sigh barely hidden from her sister walking behind her. Jody loved antiques and old things more than any other person that she ever knew. This trip was supposed to be about them getting away from their jobs and the stress of their daily lives; instead of relaxing on a beach or seeing the sights, she was stuck going from antique shop to mom-and-pop store, watching her sister look at things overlooked by most as old or useless.
She thought that her sister would be tired of looking at old things, with her being a museum curator.
She wandered down to the end of the row of dusty shelves until she came to the end where a mirror glittered in the sunlight that streamed through the ribbons between the dirt that stuck to the picture window. Her reflection in the glass made her look…beautiful. Like a princess. She looked at the tag that hung listlessly from the edge of the frame and goggled at the low price. Why was it such a bargain?
Without a second thought, she took the mirror to the counter and paid the ridiculous price, eager to get back to the city and hang it on the wall. She already had a place picked out.
She hung the mirror in the hallway where she could see it no matter where she was in the house. It was a short hall that connected the living room with the bedroom; she could see the beautiful gilt frame from the bed while she lay at night going to sleep. It was within her line of sight when she sat on the couch watching television or sat at the small dining room table eating her meals for one.
She found herself more loathe every day to leave the house. It seemed to make her want to stay at home in solitude. She knew that she had to go to work but it was easier to call in sick. She knew that it wasn’t good to spend so much time alone but how could she be alone? She had her mirror to keep her company.
She would watch herself as she moved around the apartment and it seemed that the mirror watched her too. No matter where she was in the flat she had a clear view of her actions in the polished silver surface. It drew her in closer, keeping her nearby all the time; she rarely went anywhere except in front of it, watching the flowers wilt on her coffee table and the television in the reflection on the glass, eerily bluish-gray in the dark apartment.
She woke up that morning with the need to just sit in front of it and stare at herself. It was a deep ache that burned in her gullet and changed her feet to lead, planting her in one spot until her legs were on fire and she dragged a chair up to sit down in front of it. The sharp edges of the fanciful carvings around the edges cut into her elbows but she leaned on it anyway, unable to get as close as she needed to.
She finally rested her nose against the glass, looking into her eyes. She saw herself reflected in the obsidian pupils, dilated to mask the color of her irises. She shoved her uncombed hair behind her ear when it fell into her vision, refusing to break her stare.
Her hand flew to her forehead when she suddenly felt a wave of dizziness overcome her and her vision grayed around the edges. Her head hit the glass and she heard the crack through the bones in her head.
When she opened her eyes, she couldn’t move. Paralyzed, she watched through the glass with horror as the day turned into night and back into day, the hours passing more slowly than they had for her before. The minutes seemed to crawl by on baby’s knees, barely moving in the warped timesense that she had now.
She opened her eyes to find a stranger in her house, looking through her things. His badge glinted in the light from the open window when his jacket fell open.
She heard her sister’s voice echoing from the bottom of a deep well, too far away to clearly make out the noises but knowing that she was making them all the same. It was a blessing that she could read lips as she watched them move through the glass, too slow to realize exactly where she was.
“I don’t know where she could have gone. Her purse and clothes are still here. Everything that she owns is still here. Look, this is the mirror that she bought at that antique store last month when we were on vacation together. I don’t think that it had that crack in the glass, though. I don’t remember.”
Mutter, mutter, mutter—the detective has his back to her. Her sister pointed. “Well, I don’t know, really. She was always a solitary person, even when we were kids.”
Ann thought about her situation. She had read about it in college, but discarded the idea long ago. Something about disbelief. That things like this could happen in the real world, that someone could disappear into thin air and no one would know where they went. What was it—oh, suspension of disbelief. Suspension.
But things like this didn’t happen in real life. She was a fucking accountant, for God’s sake—this wasn’t an episode on the Twilight Zone. There was nothing here except her—her and the reflection of her apartment.
At least, not until her sister had her things crated up and put into storage. She didn’t know about the other things that lived in the mirror until things went black and there was no ambient light to show her where she was and what was creeping behind her. They were used to the dark anyway. It was all they knew, living in the depths of the mirror where the light never reached. There was no sound in the mirror either, so nobody heard her screams.
Fandom: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: She heard about things like this in college, but she was an accountant, for God's sake--they didn't happen to her.
The mirror stood in the antique store for a long while, waiting for the perfect buyer to come along—the one that it was made for, the one that it longed for since the last owner. It knew the moment the bell over the door jingled and shattered the silence of the dusty air that she had arrived and it was time to remove the glamour that masked it from the rest of the world.
With an imperceptible ripple, it shivered and shook the dust out of each intricately carved curlicue. The gilt brightened and the silver renewed itself on the back of the mirror, glimmering in the weak sunlight that filtered in through the stacks and mishmash of junk that had accumulated throughout the store owner’s lifetime. With a subtle, human move, it was out of the hidden corner at the end of the maze and in a place of prominence at the end of the aisle, reflecting the plethora of collectibles that surrounded it in a surface that seemed brighter than new.
With a ruffle and shimmy, it settled down to wait for her—the one destined to buy it.
Ann opened the door to the shop with a sigh barely hidden from her sister walking behind her. Jody loved antiques and old things more than any other person that she ever knew. This trip was supposed to be about them getting away from their jobs and the stress of their daily lives; instead of relaxing on a beach or seeing the sights, she was stuck going from antique shop to mom-and-pop store, watching her sister look at things overlooked by most as old or useless.
She thought that her sister would be tired of looking at old things, with her being a museum curator.
She wandered down to the end of the row of dusty shelves until she came to the end where a mirror glittered in the sunlight that streamed through the ribbons between the dirt that stuck to the picture window. Her reflection in the glass made her look…beautiful. Like a princess. She looked at the tag that hung listlessly from the edge of the frame and goggled at the low price. Why was it such a bargain?
Without a second thought, she took the mirror to the counter and paid the ridiculous price, eager to get back to the city and hang it on the wall. She already had a place picked out.
She hung the mirror in the hallway where she could see it no matter where she was in the house. It was a short hall that connected the living room with the bedroom; she could see the beautiful gilt frame from the bed while she lay at night going to sleep. It was within her line of sight when she sat on the couch watching television or sat at the small dining room table eating her meals for one.
She found herself more loathe every day to leave the house. It seemed to make her want to stay at home in solitude. She knew that she had to go to work but it was easier to call in sick. She knew that it wasn’t good to spend so much time alone but how could she be alone? She had her mirror to keep her company.
She would watch herself as she moved around the apartment and it seemed that the mirror watched her too. No matter where she was in the flat she had a clear view of her actions in the polished silver surface. It drew her in closer, keeping her nearby all the time; she rarely went anywhere except in front of it, watching the flowers wilt on her coffee table and the television in the reflection on the glass, eerily bluish-gray in the dark apartment.
She woke up that morning with the need to just sit in front of it and stare at herself. It was a deep ache that burned in her gullet and changed her feet to lead, planting her in one spot until her legs were on fire and she dragged a chair up to sit down in front of it. The sharp edges of the fanciful carvings around the edges cut into her elbows but she leaned on it anyway, unable to get as close as she needed to.
She finally rested her nose against the glass, looking into her eyes. She saw herself reflected in the obsidian pupils, dilated to mask the color of her irises. She shoved her uncombed hair behind her ear when it fell into her vision, refusing to break her stare.
Her hand flew to her forehead when she suddenly felt a wave of dizziness overcome her and her vision grayed around the edges. Her head hit the glass and she heard the crack through the bones in her head.
When she opened her eyes, she couldn’t move. Paralyzed, she watched through the glass with horror as the day turned into night and back into day, the hours passing more slowly than they had for her before. The minutes seemed to crawl by on baby’s knees, barely moving in the warped timesense that she had now.
She opened her eyes to find a stranger in her house, looking through her things. His badge glinted in the light from the open window when his jacket fell open.
She heard her sister’s voice echoing from the bottom of a deep well, too far away to clearly make out the noises but knowing that she was making them all the same. It was a blessing that she could read lips as she watched them move through the glass, too slow to realize exactly where she was.
“I don’t know where she could have gone. Her purse and clothes are still here. Everything that she owns is still here. Look, this is the mirror that she bought at that antique store last month when we were on vacation together. I don’t think that it had that crack in the glass, though. I don’t remember.”
Mutter, mutter, mutter—the detective has his back to her. Her sister pointed. “Well, I don’t know, really. She was always a solitary person, even when we were kids.”
Ann thought about her situation. She had read about it in college, but discarded the idea long ago. Something about disbelief. That things like this could happen in the real world, that someone could disappear into thin air and no one would know where they went. What was it—oh, suspension of disbelief. Suspension.
But things like this didn’t happen in real life. She was a fucking accountant, for God’s sake—this wasn’t an episode on the Twilight Zone. There was nothing here except her—her and the reflection of her apartment.
At least, not until her sister had her things crated up and put into storage. She didn’t know about the other things that lived in the mirror until things went black and there was no ambient light to show her where she was and what was creeping behind her. They were used to the dark anyway. It was all they knew, living in the depths of the mirror where the light never reached. There was no sound in the mirror either, so nobody heard her screams.
