Chapter 1
As my alarm buzzed at six in the morning, I woke up with my mind still in a haze. I have plantar fasciitis, so the moment I set my foot on the floor, the agonizing pain of my existence came about. My back hurts. Must have slept wrong. I strongly wished to get back to my twenties as I ran my palms down my face. As my palms met, sleep came calling back as I rested my chin on the tips of my fingers. But the thought of my soul-crushing job shook me awake. I was still dazed, but I was awake.
I slowly got up and stood by my bedside as my spine creaked and crackled. I dragged my feet along the floor as I headed to the bathroom. What new thing have I forgotten today to make myself depressed at how much of a failure I am as a functioning adult? A walking sack of disappointment that even a demon can’t be bothered to haunt, except to remind constantly just enough to keep me alive. Sometimes I honestly think this is far more humiliating and torturous than actually being haunted by a demon. Because just yesterday I was reminded that I had left the ignition on and the engine running all night long after a drunken night out the day before. I was also reminded of what a piece of crap I was for drunk driving too.
“Just kill me already,” I said to myself as I stood before the mirror that was so heavily fogged I could barely even make out the outline of my shape in it. “Come on, what new bullshit do I have for today?” I drummed my fingers on the sink below. I waited for the big reveal as seconds ticked by. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. I felt drowsy again. I dozed off, leaning my head into a fall, only to rock myself back awake.
Surprisingly, ten minutes had passed in that quick nod, which felt no longer than a second. I regretted watching TV until two so much. The mirror was clearing up, but no message. Weird. My perfect day must have finally arrived. “Alright, buddy, if the day is clear, I guess you have a nice day, yeah? Guess this is like your first day off then, huh?” Since I had already wasted fifteen minutes standing in front of the mirror, I thought I should get on with my day.
I brushed, sat on the throne looking at my phone for a while, and then went to the shower. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It’s not the first time I didn’t need to be reminded of anything, but even then I’d get a simple “Good morning” or a “Have a nice day” kind of thing. As soon as I went into the shower, I wondered if it was mad about the whole drunk driving thing. “Hey, if you are mad about the day before yesterday, I’m really sorry, okay? I won’t do it again.” While I rinsed my face with soap, I started hearing a squeaking noise coming from the mirror.
“There you are!” I exclaimed as I rushed toward the mirror, barely squinting my eyes open because of the soap. As I placed heavy steps, I must have stepped on a roll or a bar of soap, because I clearly remembered the feeling of losing all balance and stumbling forward. The last thing I remembered was how painful it was when my head hit the sink as I blacked out.
I heard my alarm buzzing from my room again. As the faint sound of the alarm became louder, I felt the warmth of sun rays hitting my face. I opened my eyes and I was staring at the ceiling of my bathroom. I sprang up to stand. I touched the side of my head. It hurt a little but not as much as I thought it would. Surprisingly, my back didn’t hurt anymore. I guessed it was all due to the adrenaline rushing through my body.
The alarm sound from my room suddenly stopped. I heard a man yawning. What the hell is going on? As I was about to get out and head to my room to see what was up, I noticed something moving in the mirror. I took a look. I was baffled. I was seeing myself in the mirror, but not as a reflection, like a vision,.. or a TV show! I joked that it had gone from texts to straight up face time. “That’s quite a leap in technology, buddy!” I exclaimed.
But, wait a minute! I think I’ve seen this before! This was my birthday five years ago! A totally uneventful day, where nobody even cared that I was born on this day. Except for the fact that this was the day when I saw my first message in the mirror! Why am I being shown this? - I thought. But on second thought, my heart dropped. No!! It can’t be!! I slowly looked down. There was another me lying on the floor, blood running out of his broken skull! No! No No! This can’t be happening. I got down to wake him up. I couldn’t touch him! my hands passed through him.. i mean me... him.. whatever! except, his blood got on my hands. I was so grossed out I yelled out loud, “HELP!” My voice didn’t work! I was utterly confused. This for sure couldn’t be happening. No! Not tome! I got back to the mirror. I touched it with my bloodied hands. My prints were on the mirror. I rubbed them off. Maybe, maybe he can help! I banged on the mirror. No sound. Nothing. I punched the mirror with all I had. Nothing! As if I was made of nothing. Maybe, maybe he can help, the one outside the mirror, I thought again. I dipped my finger into the blood again. I tried to write HELP, but I couldn’t. It simply wouldn’t appear. Why wouldn’t the blood stick to the mirror? It did a few seconds ago. I noticed a record player. Weird. It wasn’t here before. I pressed play. It was my own voice, talking about my alarm or something. I was too creeped out listening to my own voice and I didn’t have much time left, so I turned it off immediately.
What do I do? What do I do? What if I tried doing that? I saw myself entering the bathroom on the other side of the mirror. With my bloodied finger, I scribbled, “You’ve left your fridge door open,” on the mirror. It stuck. I exclaimed with happiness at my success, but it was immediately crushed by the realization of what my fate was now.
It’s been five years since then. I’ve tried multiple times throughout this period to slip something different in to save myself, but alas, I am unable to deviate from this path. I see I am coming home after getting piss drunk. It’s past midnight. I remember this day, which means tomorrow is the day it all starts again.
But I notice something I hadn’t before. The drunk me had thrown the sneakers I was wearing that day into the laundry bin, which I won’t touch until the coming weekend; which in this case would be never. I notice something odd. The sneakers are stained. It’s not mud. Is that wine? No. I definitely didn’t come anywhere near a wine bottle that night. It’s the morning after, and as I walk to the mirror on the other side, I write about leaving the car on, and by this time I’ve already realized what the stain on those sneakers was. I called him.. I mean myself what a piece of crap I was for drunk driving.
I wanted to say something else, but before that I felt something. The bathroom had always been warm, but now it felt ice cold. I felt like someone was watching me. As I turned back, I was not in the bathroom anymore. It was a strange place. I saw a little girl and a woman. I saw another female figure further back. As the fog cleared, I saw that the woman and the girl were covered and dripping with blood. I couldn’t make out their faces, their long dark hair hid them. Their bodies appeared mangled, everything out of place, some of their insides hanging outside. The woman was wallowing with a cry that was both heart-wrenching and nauseating. I wanted her to stop. The girl, however, just stared at me with her lone eyeball hanging out on her cheek. I couldn’t decide what was more unsettling.
I turned my gaze upon the woman in the back. I could see her face. I think I’ve seen her before, but I’m not sure where. She was dressed in all black and stood in front of an altar. She had a knife in her hand and she was chanting something. I didn’t know what. As I watched, she sliced her palm with it and dripped the blood into a bowl on the altar. I felt a tug. Suddenly I was dragged all the way into her bloodied hand. She was grabbing me by the throat, but I didn’t feel suffocated. The knife in her other hand started glowing like it had been heated in a furnace. I was confused as to how she was able to touch me.
"This is for killing my wife and daughter, you monster!” yelled the woman, both tears and insatiable rage in her eyes. I tried to squirm, telling her she was making a mistake, that she was about to set things in motion. But we’d been here already, many-many times. It was useless. I could understand why she was doing it. I didn’t want to fight anymore. As she pressed the burning dagger closer to my heart, I channeled all my experience and memories into a record and placed the recorder at the beginning. I would record it until the end. For you!
You won’t listen to it the first time you play this, but eventually you will. We’ve already been here before, too many times to count. As the woman buried the dagger deep into my heart, I realized, this must be hell! To be condemned for eternity, repeating it all, over and over and over again. But as the knife burned inside and I started fading, I was finally glad. After all this time I could finally feel something, even if it was just excruciating pain. I was simply grateful. And I was at peace.
