The door jingled.

A person glided through the entrance.

In his dingy brown shirt,

The undeniable proof of his years working there.

With the same routine, everyday, since the late 1980’s.

He loathed everything about this shop after the 5th year.

The way the door sung at an intrusion.

The way the floor cried at almost any weight.

The way every customer looks exactly the same,

With eyes searching for a mystery

but quivering like they had Parkinsons disease.

He hated his reputation throughout the city

“_It’s The man who stays with warlocks and witches_

_With trinkets and crystals, he searches for his next victim”_

__

That same saying was known throughout the city

And it followed him.

That saying popped out of places,

And liked to rest on his shoulder.

Pointed it gnarled fingers at his head,

And held him like a hostage.

He’s a victim of this place, the last he hopes.

His eyes stare drooped from behind the workers desk,

His eyes glazed in exhaustion,

He’s no longer a young man with energy flowing like water.

He hated being here but theirs no other way about it,

As he looks through his peripheral vision at the mirror in the corner.

His younger self made the mistake of looking.

Not nearly as bad as the statement that followed,

“_I know your watching me.”_

His younger self to curious for his own good.

It wasn’t till the next day when something happened.

TAP

TAP

TAP

The young man popped up from his brief nap,

And stared in the corner where the mirror sat.

He stared so hard, he saw a figure zoom by.

His head shot around the shop hoping it’s just a customer going by

But no one was their just him and the mirror.

He glanced back and a distorted smile appeared.

From that point forward the tapping never stopped

And if you stare to hard at the mirror something always popped up.

As much as he hated it he would never leave,

He already knew the risk of being here, he had a goal.

Before he started working their, people would go missing here.

He didn’t care at the time, until it was sister that was a face on the newspaper.

Now he stays in the store as a preventative measure.

The mistreatment is regular but no ones been taken since

Because the mirror is being watched as much as it watches him.

He, unfortunately, grows older but his soul will not let him wither.

So many come to the store thinking he’s the monster.

They don’t know that the monster sits right behind them.

They don’t know that his presence here is to protect them from the darkness that lingers.

They don’t know,

though it hurts to be verbally accosted so often,

He knows what he’s doing is greater than him.

Tragically, He never found his sister,

He never found out what waits in the mirror

But for some reason, it never targeted him,

So he can only count his blessings if he has any.

As his bones grow weary and his skin gets wrinkly

He knew he won’t live forever

But he will stay in that shop for a long time after.

BUT

Once he leaves,

May they all plead for mercy.

A mercy they never gave to the man who watched the mirrror.