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Welcome back to the world of me.


Just kidding. No one has ever been harmed here in the land of #EverydayIsHalloween creepiness.

Not yet.

The inspirational word (or phrase, I guess) of the day is ‘something haunting’. My brain immediately cringed. For there is something that haunts me. Years ago, I had a nightmare that completely terrified me. So I’ll see if I can work that into a bit of fiction.


The light above the mirror flickers. I glance up at the grimy florescent tube. “Just let me fix my makeup before you fizzle out.”

A toilet flushes. A rusty stall door creaks open and a tall, curvy woman steps out, wiggling her short red dress back into place.

“Seriously, Miranda,” I say. “Why do we keep coming to this bar? It’s a pit.”

Miranda washes her hands as she inspects her face and hair. “Where else are we gonna go, Suzy?” She flashes me a grin and heads out the door.

The pounding rhythm of the music seeps through the opening. Clinking glasses and loud chatter fill the dingy bathroom until the heavy steel slab closes, muting the sounds of drunk and disorderly.

I stare at my reflection, my palms pressing against the stained sink. My red lips frown. “Why do we come here?” The answer is easy. Because here is all we deserve.

With a insistent buzz, the light flashes. Mirror-me grins, hazel eyes flashing.

Grin? But I didn’t … .

Gasping, I push away. My other self does the same. I chuckle in relief. Only a trick of the light. Shoving my compact in my purse, I head for the door, but pause, glancing over my shoulder at the mirror. My reflection twists, facing me head on and lowers her chin, a haunted image dripping with loathing.

I squeeze my eyes shut, panic and fear twisting like knives in my mind. “I didn’t see that,” I mutter then open my eyes.

The light dims then blazes to life. My reflection suddenly shifts forward, her hands pressing to the glass. Her eyes flare with hate. I stumble back, slamming into a stall door.

Her breath fogs the mirror. Her finger moves across the glass. Squeak. She forms letters in the mist. Squeak.

My knees wobble as I read the message.

I will kill you.

The light flashes before going out completely. Darkness consumes me. Cold closes on my throat.

A whisper creeps through the black. “You don’t deserve your life.”

I scream.


Yes. I had a dream where mirror-me threatened my life. I woke up and couldn’t breathe, fumbling for the light switch. Then I really woke up. Calm. It was quiet, except for hub’s snores. I had a bit of trouble getting back to sleep.

Sleep tight tonight, kiddies! Pleasant dreams.