As I stared into the full length, standing mirror with the ornate wooden frame; I am somehow unfamiliar with the reflection before me. I gently press my hand against the cool surface as the stranger staring back mimics me.

When did I lose myself? Was it upon first glance into this mirror or did this happen long ago without my knowledge? If you asked me to remind myself how I got here, I wouldn’t be able to tell you anymore. The putrid smell of dampness fills the air as it does everyday and I feebly tug at the chain attached to my ankle breaking the gaze with my wayward stranger. time has become irrelevant only measured by when he makes his way down the stairs to simply check that I haven’t moved from his captivity.

There was a time I trusted this man. I never second-guess his intentions, and never questioned the small things that I perceived as making him unique. I was a magnet for abuse facing it from myself and others, many times before. My therapist would tell me that that thought should not cross my mind but how does that old saying go? fool me once? fool me twice? I had been fooled too many times this lifetime to not have some semblance of shame.

As I contemplate, the familiar sound of boots, cutting against hardwood and the eerie turning of the rickety door knob, echo loudly. I don’t move anymore when this happens like I used to. There was a time I would attempt to hide, but hiding is pointless.

“ hello dear” he calls out in a raspy tone as he descends the stairs. There is nothing remarkable about him and he has an odd politeness to him. “Hello sir” I respond. “ what has the mirror taught you today?” This was an everyday question from him. long ago when he placed me here and left the mirror he told me that everything I needed to know about myself would be hidden on the other side. That I would only truly know myself, when I became acquainted with my reflection, as if it was not simply just me but a whole other entity, itself. I still struggled to understand this but as of late, I wonder if there really are answers hidden in the glass.

“ I don’t know what you want me to see.” I reply, knowing that it’s not going to illicit the response that I want which is to simply know why.

“ it’s not something that I can tell you. Like the many before you, you will have to find it on your own if you hope to better yourself” he bowed slightly and turned to leave. I had never seen these many before me, but did not doubt their existence. Where they were now is not a question I was willing to ask or know the answer to.

I returned to stand in front of my reflective prison, examining every inch before me. “ what am I missing?” I whispered to myself. Perhaps it was madness or my own imagination but I could swear the reflection responded “‘you know what has to be done.” and somehow… I did.

I once again, place my hand to the glass, but this time I seemed to melt through it. I pushed with my full body weight and continued to allow the mirror to take me… I didn’t know anymore answers than when I first came here, but I knew somehow this was my only route to freedom. I once again heard the shuffling of him, returning downstairs as I fully disappeared, and all was silent.

“ Pity I did not see her falling victim to the same fate as the others so quickly” i heard him say, as I stared from the opposite side of the glass. He hovered over my lifeless body with a pleased grimace as blood drained from my wrist and pooled around the small shard, I had managed to remove from the corner of the mirror. As I turned to face my new reality, multiple women pale, thin and with a permanent look of despair painted on their face, greeted me.

My lesson was learned. Our own reflection, is a dangerous thing, when left alone with it and forced into our own thoughts. I may never know who he was. My own self-conscious simply trapping myself or a physical being pressuring me to face my mortality. All I know is that He simply asked broken women to face themselves when they were scared to do so before and now we stand watching and, looking out from the mirror.