I don't like mirrors. Not because of how I look. Because they never show anything.
I find myself standing in front of one now, my hands braced against the sink, just glaring... staring.. consuming the empty space in front of me where my reflection should be. Nothing. Just the room behind me. Always the same, everything in it. The wall, the door, the light. Everything but me.
I tilt my head slightly, the room tilts with it. Just perfect. Too perfect.
As I lessen my grip on the porcelain sink, my fingers tap lightly before I realise I'm even doing it. I stop and frown. Pushing away from the sink like it doesn't matter, and it doesn't.
It's always been like this from what I can remember.
Has it? I mutter.
The sound of my voice has always felt off to me in the silence. Almost like it's too loud.
As I let out a slow breath through my nose, dragging my hand over the back of my neck, I step away from the sink. The bathroom light hums ever so faintly above me. Again, always the same sound, no uniqueness. Just the same.
I head towards the doorway and pause at the entrance.
Arrg, I grunt.
Something feels... wrong.
I step into the hallway anyway. My movements are steady and controlled, like if I keep everything normal, it will be normal. But… I just can't seem to shake it. This feeling.
As I walk down, not a shriek, crack, or a shift in the floors. Just silence. Like as if I'm floating across the floors.
My fingers drag against the wall as I pass, dragging lightly along the surface before realising what I'm doing. I pull my hand back, flex my fingers once, and then keep going.
The living room opens up in front of me… looking, glaring, analysing. Nope, nothing has changed. The couch is sitting where it always has. The table, the chair. Everything is in place like it's been set there and never moved.
My gaze lifts to see the TV across from me. Black screen. Off and Still.
I walk to the counter where I find my glass empty. I reach for it without thinking, filling it with water.
The sound… I pause.
The sound echoes too loudly in this quiet room.
I bring it to my lips and drink. As the water flows down my throat, I'm stuck in thought, completely analysing it. Cold. Normal. Tasteless.
I set it down and pause. My hands linger on the edge of the counter.
I don't remember picking this up.
I stare at the glass for a second, then shake my head slightly. It doesn't matter, I mumble.
I turn my gaze to the TV again. Yeah, it's still off. Still black. Still… still there.
My eyes lock onto it again. I don't know why, they just do. Like something is pulling them back. Like something is waiting for me to look.
What is it? This force drawing me every time. It shouldn't, nothing is there… just a big black empty screen.
My finger twitches ever so slightly.
I walk over to the TV and just stare.
Maybe, just maybe, if I stare long enough, something will appear.
The screen suddenly flickers.
For the first time, I'm not looking into nothing.