Doppelgänger
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. The likeness was uncanny, but where was my expression? Life? Soul? It had none. It stared back, unblinking, with a paradox of emptiness and intensity. The background was the same, standing in the same corner of my grandmother’s attic. I touched it, but it didn’t touch back. I brushed the hair behind my ear, made a face, shifted in and out of view. Nothing. I looked behind the mirror and all around the frame, but I could find no button, batteries, or wires to explain the incongruence. I grabbed the frame and shook it. Finally a distant, angry roar bellowed within the glass, followed by a high-pitched scream moments later. But its mouth never moved. Back peddling, I tripped over the folds of the sheet that once cloaked it, tumbling to the floor. Muffled footsteps echoed in the room, and I couldn’t tell if they were coming from the mirror or reality. I quickly threw the sheet back over the mirror and hid behind it. My grandmother told me to stay out of the attic. But the footsteps ceased and the door remained closed. I walked cautiously to the door and back downstairs only to find grandma quietly reading in her rocking chair.