A dusty mirror sits in you attic. You were always told not to go up there by your mother, she even nailed the door shut. You spent years wishing that the door would open and your dreams would be filled with all of the amazing things that were hidden up there. Finally, after 10 years, you’re tall enough to reach the rope hanging down from the ceiling. You waited for the perfect opportunity to explore, and that is tonight while you parents go out of town for the weekend for their anniversary. Your mother lectured you for the hundredth time not to go up in the attic and your father just stood by the door with his keys in his hand, glaring at you. His eyes bore into you, making you almost back out of your long awaited adventure. Almost. After an hour of contemplating and pondering, you finally get the courage to grab your flashlight and the hammer and begin taking out the nails. Every plinking of the nails hitting the wooden floor sends a rush of adrenaline. You are finally going to do this; you are finally going fullfill this dream you’ve had your whole life. It’s dustier than you imagined. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. The attic also isn't as cool as you imagined it. | It’s just boxes on boxes. And one, round, medium sized mirror covered in a yellowed sheet. It is so disappointing, and you almost turn around to go back downstairs and watch some movies. Almost. You turn around, your back facing to the mirror, but you can't take a step to leave. Your parents were so adamant about leaving the attic alone, so much in fact that they nailed it shut. There has to be something up here. There just has to. You turn back around and face the mirror. You pull the sheet off of it and are little disappointed. It’s just a dusty old mirror. But then it ripples. So much. Holy shit. A shadow. It pulls me forward. I can't look away. My hand goes up to the mirror. The ripples stop. I stop. It stops. The world stops. And then I’m gone. |