9752873896523593

23
A scream of terror escaped my lips. I tried to form words, but my brain seemed to be paralyzed.
The figure approached quickly, silently, through the cold, white world of the mirror. He smiled
at me, an eerie, familiar smile.
“You!” I managed to scream.
He stopped inches away from me.
I stared at him in disbelief.
I was staring at myself. Me. Smiling back at me. The smile as cold as the glass that surrounded
us.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I’m your reflection.”
“No!”
His eyes—my eyes—studied me hungrily, like a dog staring at a meaty bone. His smile grew
wider as I cried out my fear.
“I’ve been waiting here for you,” my reflection said, his eyes locked on mine.
“No!” I repeated.
I turned away.
I knew I had to get away.
I started to run.
But I stopped short when I saw the faces in front of me. Distorted, unhappy faces, dozens of
them, fun house mirror faces, with enormous, drooping eyes, and tiny mouths tight with sadness.
The faces seemed to hover just ahead of me. The gaping eyes staring at me, the tiny mouths
moving rapidly as if calling to me, warning me, telling me to get away.
Who were these people, these faces?
Why were they inside the mirror with me?
Why did their distorted, twisted images reveal so much sadness, so much pain?
“No!”
I gasped as I thought I recognized two of the floating faces, their mouths working furiously, their
eyebrows rising wildly up and down.
Erin and Zack?
No.
That was impossible, wasn’t it?
I stared hard at them. Why were they talking so frantically? What were they trying to tell me?
“Help me!” I called. But they didn’t seem to hear me.
The faces, dozens of them, bobbed and floated.
“Help me—please!”
And then I felt myself being spun around. I stared into the eyes of my reflection as he gripped my
shoulders and held me in place.
“You’re not leaving,” he told me. His quiet voice echoed through the clear stillness, icicles