Was that? No, no, it couldn’t be. Leah put her phone down for a moment and looked at her reflection in her white-rimmed bedroom mirror. A woman with white freckly skin stared back at her. That checked. Tucking a strand of brown hair behind her left ear Leah dared to reach out for her phone again. Slowly she inputed her old passcode-1397; she thought it was clever skipping odd numbers like that- and heard the screen click itself unlocked. She willed herself to click on the photo app, which she did after what seems like more than a minute. Staring back at her from her phone screen was a mirror selfie taken 6 years ago, apparently. A young woman with bright red hair, razor focused, looked at the mirror. She didn’t seem to be posing for the selfie, but rather staring right through the glass. Leah thought she had imagined it the first time she looked at the picture, but looking at it a second time she confirmed that the read headed woman was clutching a knife with her left hand. A knife smeared with a red… with what could’ve only been blood. An all too familiar woman with a freckly white face staring at nothing in particular with a blood dripping knife, capturing it all on a selfie in her bedroom’s white rimmed mirror. She had died her hair brown 6 years ago.