Sometimes when I look in the mirror, there’s another version of myself staring back. She stands seductively with blood red skin, hollow eyes, and large devilish horns. The room suddenly becomes a swamp-like area with trees that seem to be made up of a strange combination of every season; somehow full of lush green, autumn leaves, and barren branches. I put my hands to the mirror as she mimics my movements in perfect sync. I feel my eyes widen as I examine her figure - built in my image but a confidence I lack and ache for seems to appear in front of me, almost as if it shows my secret desires: the boldness she seems to possess. My heart races as I realize I’m interacting with the most lustful and dangerous version of myself. A part of me I’ve long ignored, for good reason, was somehow standing in a mirror I happened to come across in my mother’s attic. The urges I used to feel were almost as filled with cobwebs as the golden frame that held the full body reflection before me. The more my eyes dance with the devil, the harder it becomes to resist my body following. The longer I stare at myself the stranger I feel and I start to wonder how much time I’ve actually been standing up here or if anyone in the house was looking for me, but I couldn’t look away. The demons eyes resemble bright lights and they almost hurt to keep looking into. I hear something in the attic around me rattle and suddenly begin to feel there was a good reason this mirror was locked away up here. My head spins and my vision tunnels as the creature in front of me appears to grow stronger. _How do I pull myself away from this thing? _