Writing Prompt

His hand reached up as if trying to touch the sky, reaching for the air. His screams muffled by the water that rushed into his lungs. He sunk bounded by ties and a metal weight. His lungs burned as the water filled them. The weight reached the bottom of the lake, fish swam past him and greens floated on above him. This would surely be his ending. His eyes burning from the cold water slowly closed as he lost consciousness.

Sitting up from his bed he tried to scream but couldn’t. He ran to the bathroom to cough up water. Water? His eyes burned and his lungs where on fire. Looking up at the mirror his face was pale and rinkled as if it had been soaking in water. Had he drunk water in his sleep? Had he gone to the bathtub and drawn some water? No he hadn’t. The bathtub was empty and his water bottle no where to be found. So what had happened? Did he drown in his sleep by means of his very own dream? Surely that was impossible and yet, it had just happened.

The hairs on the back of my neck tingle and for a moment, I am frozen. For a moment, just a flicker of a moment, the face in the mirror was not my own. For that moment, time and space crossed paths and in an instant, I was looking into the face of my mother.

It happens more often since she’s died and it never gets less jarring to expect to see your own tired face, and instead recognize the face of a monster. It’s silly of course. I know logically that I am not my mother, and every day I thank God for that. But when I see her face reflected in my own features, I can’t help but feel a terrible sense of foreboding.

My mother was not always a heinous monster. For times in my life, she was actually quite pleasant. But when that switch flipped and the demon inside reared it’s ugly head… you wanted her to forget you existed. When the switch was flipped she was evil, and when she was using… her passing out was a blessing.

Knowing the juxtaposition of the good and the bad within her has always terrified me. When I was 16, I used to have panic attacks so badly that I felt I was floating away into the ceiling and didn’t trust if I was real or not. I spent hours furiously scouring the internet: “do crazy people know that they’re crazy” and “how do I know if I have schizophrenia.” I was scared that I had her genes or something and that there was a switch inside me too.

Rubbing my eyes I open them again and my mother is gone. The way my hair curled loose from the braid in my sleep opened the gate for her to come in. But she’s gone, and I’m okay (I think? But how do I know?).

I see her within me in the face in the mirror, but I am not my mother, only my mothers child.

At least that’s the hope.

Kayla jolted awake, her heart pounding in her chest, drenched in cold sweat. She had just awoken from a terrifying nightmare that left her trembling. As she caught her breath, she stumbled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, seeking solace in the comforting familiarity of her reflection.

But as Kayla stood before the mirror, her eyes widened in horror. Something was terribly wrong. Her once radiant complexion had turned sickly pale, and patches of her flesh appeared to be rotting away. The putrid stench of decay filled the air, causing her to gag.

Tears welled up in Kayla’s eyes as she frantically touched her face, hoping it was all just a terrible hallucination. But the decaying flesh beneath her fingertips confirmed her worst fears. Panic consumed her, and she stumbled backward, struggling to comprehend the grotesque transformation that had befallen her.

With trembling hands, Kayla reached for her phone, desperate for answers. She dialed her best friend’s number, hoping for reassurance or some logical explanation. But as the call connected, a gut-wrenching scream escaped her friend’s lips.

“Kayla, what happened to you?!” her friend cried, her voice filled with terror.

“I don’t know! Something is terribly wrong!” Kayla sobbed, her voice trembling.

Her friend urged her to seek medical help immediately, but deep down, Kayla knew that this was no ordinary illness. This was something far more sinister, something beyond the realm of medical understanding.

As days turned into weeks, Kayla’s condition worsened. The rot continued to spread, consuming her body bit by bit. Doctors were baffled, unable to offer any explanation or treatment. Friends and family kept their distance, too afraid to witness the horrifying transformation.

Isolated and consumed by despair, Kayla’s once vibrant spirit began to wither. She became a prisoner in her own decaying body, haunted by the grotesque reflection that stared back at her from the mirror. The once hopeful dreams of a future filled with love and joy were replaced with the cruel reality of her impending demise.

In the depths of her despair, Kayla sought solace in a dark corner of the internet, desperate for answers. She stumbled upon a chilling tale, a legend of a cursed mirror that had the power to corrupt and rot the souls of those who gazed upon it.

Terrified yet determined, Kayla embarked on a desperate quest to break the curse. She followed the cryptic instructions, venturing into the depths of an abandoned mansion rumored to house the malevolent mirror.

As she stood before the cursed mirror, her reflection contorted and twisted, a grotesque mockery of her former self. With trembling hands, she shattered the mirror, hoping to sever the connection between her decaying flesh and the cursed glass.

But as the shards fell to the ground, Kayla’s body collapsed, lifeless. The curse had claimed its final victim, a tragic end to her desperate battle against the horrors that had consumed her.

And so, the cursed mirror remained, a haunting reminder of the darkness that lurks within the depths of our own reflections. A chilling tale that serves as a warning to those who dare to look too closely, for sometimes, the horrors we fear the most lie within ourselves.

I sit straight up in bed and try to control my breathing. Holy shit that dream has my mind going a thousand miles a second. I could still feel the raspy breath on the back of my neck as if that thing was still chasing me even in my waking hours. As i slowly convinced my heart to go back to a normal speed I swung my legs out of bed and head towards the bathroom. I could see rays of sunlight starting to peak through my bedroom window. It was almost morning. Flicking on the light I reach for my glass and fill it to the brim with sink water. Holding the glass to my lips I stop when i catch a glimpse of my reflection. Hmm something seems different. My hair is all over the place but that’s not unusual for a fitful night of rest. My skin tone was a little pale but not enough to be concerned or to notice a real difference. What was it? What is so off about my appearance right now. I lean towards the mirror to try and get a closer look at my reflection.

My eyes. Something was different but yet familiar about my eyes. There usual bright blue. Why were my eyes now brown? This doesn’t make any sense. I blink my eyes rapidly to try and clear the vision but they stay brown. Why did they look so familiar. Just then i hear that raspy breath again from my dream. A sinister laugh escapes my lips as I realize i am looking into the eyes of that thing from my dream.

I find myself in a castle. There’s a tall, big man with black hair and a dark look. He is terrifying for some reason, so I struggle trying to find my way out. The exit comes quick, and I tell the dark man that I’m sorry I have to leave, running out the door. He smiles and shouts something vague as I try to find my car. Instead, I find a familiar minivan with two old friends there to accompany me. They told me this is Boggart’s Castle. They also said those are probably the only words he would ever say to me. All the sudden, I find myself back in the castle. This time, each time I try to exit, I find a new hallway, but they all look the same. I look at my phone, and can barely get to my messages. “Good luck.” I see from one of the friends I had just seen. I can’t text him back, at some point I realize my phone is useless. I’m in this castle, and I have officially gone crazy. There is no exit, and I am so lost I can’t even use a phone. I know and realize I’m dreaming. I tell myself, “Just close your eyes really hard and try to wake up.” After closing my eyes, it seems as if I’ve woken up, but I quickly find myself in another hallway of the castle. This is how I will be forever, stuck in this dream, and when I wake up I will be so confused and affected that I appear crazy to everyone else, forever. I have lost myself. “HUUUUUUU!” I breathe in suddenly as I find myself awake in bed. I sigh. “I am so glad I’m alive.” I think.

I get up, increasingly terrified of the trip I just had. “In the bathroom I can get some water.” I think. I turn on the faucet and open my mouth, yet I can’t. I look in the mirror and there’s only skin where my mouth is. I am sure I’m awake, and in horror, I realize I have changed forever. I can’t speak to anyone I love ever again. At midnight, I lay alone in bed, to be something I’m not familiar with. Changed, terrified, and sunken I rest.

I knew what I would see when I looked in the mirror. What else was supposed to greet me? Perhaps it was because I already knew what to expect that when I actually saw my reflection my first reaction was, “this isn’t so bad”. It was objectively very bad. A permanent mark alienating from all of human society, and most of Magi society. Though I couldn’t say I had ever actually been accepted by any of those groups either… So maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Except that I was down to one arm, that part was pretty bad.

Dear Diary,

I just had, like, the worst dream ever. Worse than the one where I’d lost my fortune and was living on the street, even.

It started with that old lady I passed on the street the other day. She was no different from all the homeless I pass by every day on my way to all the important places I go to. At least I didn’t think so…

The traffic signal had turned red so I was waiting to cross when I felt this tug on my fur coat.

I turned to see the most hideous creature ever! I’m not even sure she was human. She was all wrinkled and warty and smelly and gross. It was cold and she had just a thin sweater on so she was shivering.

“Help an old lady, miss? A dollar for a hot coffee?”

I just ignored her and crossed the street. I then heard some guttural noises and then this cackling laugh.

“Whatever,” I thought.

In my dream, I saw her again. As she held out her hand to me, I felt the tiniest bit of regret .. I had plenty of cash to help her out. But she was so ugly!

I’m glad that was a nightmare! Time to get up. I’m getting my brows done.

Dear Diary,

I just looked in the mirror and … the face staring back at me … it was the old lady’s…oh god this has to be a nightmare right… she must have cursed me …

Not really used to writing in first person, so i hope it’s okay.

Nightmare after nightmare, I don’t want to sleep anymore. I’m awake, but my body is stiff and unmoving. I want to lie there, but I can’t, and I have a headache. Each limb moves individually, a second at a time, lifting my body out of bed and into the dark bathroom.

Cold tile meets my feet, what was my dream? I remember screams, but now all the details are dissipating into fragments of memory. I reach for the tablets under the sink: Tylenol—my lord and savior— only to promptly hit my head on the cabinet door.

“Shit” My head throbs from the unscheduled appointment. It’s not a major cut, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting.

“Universe, I’m assuming this is karma, but. What. The. Heck. Do better.” I screwed the cap off and popped a tablet in. Success.

Another stab of pain and I fall, pain filling every cell of my body. I clench my eyes shut tightly, my ears are ringing.

/ę$$€ | øf bløøđ, wę müšt b£çõmę œnė(A/N: where are the italics)

Everything is dark, I can feel something inside me. It’s suffocating and consuming, and then it’s gone.

I stayed there a while, shivering on the floor. It’s nice, the floor. How long was a while? I don’t know, but the sun had risen on the horizon.

The voice seemed to echo through the confines of my brain, hollow and devoid of any human quality. It was downright monstrous. Another shudder racked my body at the recollection. Did I want to know what it was, or would it only add to my fear?

Light, I needed more light. Maybe it would scare the shadows away. I fumbled for the switch on the wall, and brilliant fluorescent light filled the room. Blinding in fact. I squeezed my eyes shut, splashed some water on my face, and slowly opened them again.

No. That’s not me in the mirror. It couldn’t be. Dark veins snaked through my face, and my eyes…god my eyes. Black slits glared back at me, like twin pools of venom.

I couldn’t do anything but stare.

And laugh.

Wait, that’s not right.

Why am I laughing? My mouth twist up into a smirk.

Hį £hęrë Røwan

Her eyes fluttered open suddenly, her heart was racing and she felt the body drenched in sweat. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and headed into the bathroom to wash her face. She thought to herself about what a frightening nightmare she had just had. She could only remember bits and pieces of it, every thing was turning into a blur the more she woke up. Reaching towards the faucet her gaze looked up into the mirror and she froze in fear. Looking back at her was a bloody cheek. Her bloody cheek. She splashed water on her face and winced in pain the moment the water touched her face. She continued to wash her face more tenderly, watching the blood wash down the drain in the sink. She looked back up at her face and examined the open gash that took up more than two thirds of her face. Gently running her finger near it her nightmare flashed back before her eyes like a quick movie reel. She remembered running for her life, she was running from some mutated human… she remembered getting cornered in a locked hallway trying to escape when it grabbed at her. She pushed away as it swiped at her face, then she woke up.

I woke up gasping. I will not relate the terrible thing I was doing in my dream; I don’t want to give the impression that I might do such a thing in real life. I don’t even know what brought on such a nightmare!

The sun hadn’t risen yet. I checked the clock on my phone.

4:45 am.

I must have fallen asleep with my mouth open, because my breath stunk. I couldn’t go back to sleep after that nightmare, and my breath was going to bother me anyway.

I put on my glasses, got out of bed, and started for the bathroom.

Fortunately I know my way around the house so well that I didn’t need to turn on any lights until I was in the bathroom.

I brushed my teeth, timing it perfectly for three minutes, then spat into the sink. I hadn’t meant to look at myself in the mirror, but I had to wipe off the toothpaste lather from my mouth.

I continued to look at myself after I’d wiped my face clean. I’m not a vain sort; I don’t even like the way I look.

Something was off.

What was it?

I looked over every inch of my face and failed to find what was wrong. There was my short, wavy black hair; there were my eyebrows over my brown eyes; there was my nose, which I thought looked too much like a bird’s beak especially when wearing my glasses, as I was now; there was my mouth: my lips and my teeth; there were my two ears on the sides of my head.

Nothing there that shouldn’t have been. So why did I look so strange?

I looked at my cheeks and chin. I felt them. Smooth as a baby’s behind.

No stubble.

No stubble?

My face looked the same, but there was no hint of facial hair anywhere. The closest shave couldn’t make me look like that!

My eyes migrated downward.

I bit my hand against the yelp that escaped my throat—the yelp that was about an octave too high.

NOW I knew why I looked different!

Two small bulges protruded from under my T-shirt. I must have been an A cup size. My clothes hung off me, so I couldn’t get a good handle on the exact shape of my body. But now that I knew what had happened, I realized that my center of gravity had definitely changed; it was lower.

I felt between my legs.

NO doubt about it now!

I looked at my face again. My face looked exactly the same as usual, just without the facial hair.

And yet…I couldn’t stop looking at my face.

Slowly, the corners of my mouth turned up.

I liked how I looked. Kind of pretty, actually, especially around the eyes. I wondered if I could grow out my hair so that it framed my face. What would I look like then?

[Obviously the above didn’t happen in real life. But, with some modifications, it is based on a dream that I actually did have recently.]