"It's the day after my birthday, honey. It's not too late for a present to arrive." Aline, his mother, said.
"Who's it from?" Darrick, his father, asked. She shrugged. "No label? It's probably some prank from work."
Darrick hissed. "Then don't open it. Even your son won't be that stupid." Her mouth thinned into a tight line. Ray returned his gaze to the bowl of cereal before him. He was late for school. Aline tossed the wrapped gift onto the couch behind her. "That's not good enough. Throw it in the bin."
Heated glares were exchanged by his parents.
"You keep insulting me in front of our son, Darrick. I've had enough."
He lifted up the newspaper he had been reading and skimmed through it.
Ray withheld a heavy sigh. This had become the norm every morning. "Someone else was murdered by their Reflection last night." He read aloud.
Ray's spoon clattered into the bowl, sending a splash of milk over his clothes.
"Don't believe everything you hear in the news, Darrick. Your life would be much better for it."
He narrowed his eyes at her.
"Fabian didn't kill himself, and that wasn't on the news."
She lifted up her hands in mock surrender. "Believe what you want, Fabian could have had enemies."
Ray pushed his chair back over with a loud scrape and left the table. His mother followed him with her eyes.
Aline then cast a willful glance at her husband before reaching for the gift. She peeled the wrap open. The sun caught on the glass perfectly, illuminating her auburn locks and dark green eyes. It was no prank, just a mirror. The wooden frame was carved beautifully. She had not had a mirror in her house for the past five years because of Darrick's superstitious beliefs. This was going to belong on her bedside forever. Ray came out of the kitchen and picked up his bag from the seat beside his father.
He froze as he saw what his mother was holding. "No way!" He muttered. Darrick glanced up, a frown on his handsome face.
The newspaper fell out of his hands as soon as he saw it.
"Why is there a mirror in my house, Aline?"
She sat it down and stood up.
"It is a beautiful gift and I'm keeping it."
He scoffed. "At the cost of your family's life?" She rolled her eyes. "I don't believe any of that superstitious nonsense. I'd keep it on my side of the room."
Darrick snatched up his jacket, the fabric whispering in the air. Ray took a deep breath. The air smelled of toast and coffee and strong perfume.
"Those superstitious beliefs have kept this family safe."
Aline placed her hands on her hips. "Is that what you think? What exactly are you keeping us safe from?"
Darrick's hand clenched at his side. "I don't want to see it when I get back. If you want to keep it so bad, you can move out." He stormed out of the house.
Ray grabbed his briefcase and rushed after him, sparing only a glance at his mother. He didn't feel sorry for her this particular morning.
His dad was just closing the hood as he came out.
"Do you want a ride?" Ray shook his head, skidding over the gravel driveway towards his father.
"No thanks." His eyes darted to the places where the side view mirrors and rear view mirrors had once been. He'd be the laughingstock of the school if his father brought him in an expensive SUV without mirrors. His father followed his gaze.
"It had to be done. Don't listen to your mother. These things are real. Better safe than sorry, right?"
He slipped into the car and drove off.
Ray stared after him, wondering what to believe. He headed to school and joined the first class. Kirby and Sarah were already waiting for him.
"Just thought I'd keep the seat warm for you." Kirby said.
He tried to smile, but his smile faltered.
Sarah placed a hand on his shoulder. "Did your parents fight again?"
He averted his gaze. "No."
Kirby ruffled his hair. "Of course they did."
The teacher strolled in, his shimmering gold hair falling in wavy masses. Sarah turned away, leaning her cheek in her palm and staring as she always did during every geometry class. Kirby and Ray glared at the man. Even his voice was gentle as he spoke. The side chatter, laughter, and seat scraping stopped immediately. His voice lulled half the class to sleep.
The day passed swiftly and the bell rang for the students to go home. Kirby and Sarah joined Ray on his walk since they all lived streets apart.
"The angle is X and the Angela is Y." Kirby mimicked, mocking the geometry teacher, Mr. Alan Berth.
Ray and Sarah laughed at the joke. Kirby loved to make fun of the teachers.
"I've got to pee so bad, the road feels endless." Ray said, clutching the strap of his bag tighter. The sky was gray above them, hinting of rain. "You could piss in someone's lawn?"
"Gross!" Ray and Sarah exclaimed in unison. "Why didn't you use the bathroom at the school? There was plenty of time to do that." Sarah asked. Ray sighed. "I couldn't, it's got mirrors."
Sarah stifled a chuckle. "There you go again. There aren't mirrors inside the toilet, Ray." Kirby messed with his hair. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I've got mirrors all over my house and nothing happens. The media is making the stuff up."
Ray rubbed his furrowed brow.
"But what about Uncle Fabian?"
"People die, Ray. You still got that video game?" Sarah asked.
Ray hesitated before answering - Sarah always won.
"Sure, it doesn't have mirrors in it."
The other two laughed. "My mom won't mind if I get home late. I'll just tell her I'll be hanging out in your place." Sarah said.
The trio started towards his house.
"I didn't notice you guys did a new paint job." Kirby noted.
Ray smiled.
Sarah brushed the plants in the pot on the porch. "Yeah, even the flowers are new."
"My mom's been fussing over the house ever since she quit her job."
Sarah made a whiny sound. "I'll kill for a job like hers."
Ray turned the knob and opened the door.
The house was neat as always. The curtain drawn to the sides nicely. But there was something odd about the silence. His mother's car was still in the makeshift garage. She had to be home.
"Mom?"
He went to the kitchen to see if she left any notes. There was no new note on the refrigerator.
Kirby closed the door behind him with a click as he knelt to remove his sneakers.
Sarah threw her bag on the couch and sank in beside it.
"Time to crush you boys!" She exclaimed. "Hang on, I've got to check if my mom's upstairs."
Kirby gave him a thumbs up. "If you see her, let her know I'll be helping myself to a sandwich." Ray rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
The door to his parent's room was slightly open.
Then, something shattered.
He pushed the door open slowly, the wood creaking on its hinges.
Footsteps rushed up the stairs behind him.
"What was that?" Sarah asked.
He remained frozen by the door, clutching the knob like his life depended on it.
Then, he saw them. There was someone that looked exactly like his mother. The person was holding a kitchen knife.
He stared between them. Who was who?
"Mom?" He called.
Both of them turned in unison.
Sarah covered her mouth to stifle a gasp.
The same eyes, the same worried expression.
Her favourite vase was scattered on the floor along with the other objects that usually stood on her nightstand.
The only difference between them was the knife.
He grabbed his dad's baseball club by the door and lunged for the one on top.
"Ray, no!" She screamed.
Then the sound of metal sliding through flesh filled the air.
The one on top rolled over, her blue sweater soaking with blood around her abdomen.
The other one scrambled from the bed. She glanced at him with pity. A grey mark suddenly appeared on her arm where her sleeve had rolled up.
She inched toward the vanity table. He watched her, club in hand.
His hands were trembling violently, his eyes filling up with unshed tears.
"I'm sorry, Ray." She whispered.
She touched the mirror.
"Stop her!" Kirby cried.
Ray was too struck to move. Sarah ran forward, but she was too late.
The woman started fading into the mirror.
"Only one can survive." She whispered again before she faded completely.