Mirror Crawlers

Written by Margarita Morgan
August 31, 2014



Describing a scenario where all mirrors are gone one morning is a scary task that brings out a side of nightmares that hunt my nights. If I woke up to a world like that, I would run and hide under a rock because I can imagine the evil that lurks behind mirrors and if they are gone, it means that this evil is upon us.

The thought of disappearing mirrors alone is giving me anxiety. I don’t like them . . . they seem like evil windows to alternate dimensions where dark creatures watch our every move waiting for the right time to posses our minds. I’m even afraid to look at them in the dark. As I pass in front of their reflections, I get shivers because I can hear in my mind, distant wild cries that call me release their suffering, but whatever they are, they are not our friends, they are always watching, they are everywhere. While I don’t feel that all mirrors are trans-dimensional windows, if feels like the more there are, the more opportunity there is for the other side to observe us.

Just try and look at a mirror in the dead of night with out feeling that something is going to come out of it to hurt you. Try and put your hand to it without recoiling at the thought that someone is going to grab it. Don’t you ever feel that if you touch a mirror in the right moment, that your hand could pass through? I avoid looking at mirrors in the dark because I believe that I can see things through them that are not a reflection and what I can see is frightening.

I remember stories that my grandfather used to tell about the visitors that my family has had for generations. Those visitors, he used to say, were from the other verse. I always thought that he liked to tell stories just for the fun of frightening us, but as I grew up, I understood what he was talking about. He died without passing on all of the stories and I don’t know how to contact them like he did without being possessed by them, but I can tell that the thread between their world and ours is very thin and I do feel their call. If they get through, according to the stories, they closed the door to the other side and the mirror disappears. . .


Fictional tale inspired by:

Daily Prompt
The Mirror Crack’d
You wake up one morning to a world without mirrors. How does your life — from your everyday routines to your perception of yourself — change?

4 thoughts on “Mirror Crawlers

  1. I traveled to West Africa several months ago and one of the things I distinctly felt the lack of was, mirrors. Of all the things to feel weird about it was weird that mirrors was one of them, but there you go. I didn’t realize how much time I spend checking myself out in reflective surfaces until I didn’t have them anymore. But once I got over the nerve-wracking sensation of not being able to see if my nose is too shiny or there is food in my teeth, I found it really very freeing. Eventually, I just stopped caring because there was nothing I could do about it. I felt more free to just enjoy the moment and stop caring about how I looked in the moment. Perhaps there is a sort of evil behind those mirrors after all?

    Liked by 1 person

    • I would say so, I suffer from a particularly shiny nose. It feels like I’m addiction to my own reflection because I can’t stop checking to see if i have a shiny face. lol

      It is interesting that you got a feeling of freedom from the lack of mirrors. Even though I wrote this piece as a fiction story, looking at mirrors in the dark has always given me an unsettling feeling. It would probably be liberating if I didn’t have to pass by one of them at night on my way to the bathroom. =D

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s