I Couldn't See My Reflection

A group of bright-eyed children sat on a colorful carpet in the bookstore, quietly and obediently listening to me as I read from my illustrated children’s book. I tried to keep the kids entertained with dramatic expressions and used different voices for the various characters in the book. The kids laughed at my silly antics. They were such a cute bunch of polite and generous kids that I wish I could just give them all a big hug.

Turning the last page, I grinned and looked around the room taking in each child’s innocent charms with love and affection. I didn’t have any of my own, but to me, children were the purest creatures on earth. I wanted to share all the wonderful things I’d ever seen and experienced with them. Because unlike adults, whose minds were beaten dead with work and responsibilities, children’s minds were lively with rich imagination and wonder.

I had imagined becoming a teacher and hearing the kids say, “Good morning, Lucas,” once I graduated college. I could see myself letting my black hair and pathetic attempt at a mustache grow out as I got overworked over the school year. And at five foot and ten inches tall, I wasn’t the poster boy “tall, dark, and handsome,” but to the kids half my size I’m sure I would have appeared like a slightly tanned giant all the same. A college degree, a job, a boyfriend, and a dog: that was my ultimate dream. Alas, my trip to India changed my life forever.

The sights, the smells, the people, the sunsets, the music, and the pace of life there it was chaos and serenity mixed into one great masala pot. I wrote it all down, trying to capture each precious memory in my travel journal. Soon the notes and sketches became pages and pages of stories, and then a month later they became a hard-cover book.

I never went back to college. Most twenty-one-year-olds celebrate their first time legally drinking alcohol with a beer or a shot of spirits. As for me, I went on a book tour across America and drank champagne. The day I was celebrating the end of my book tour with my agent and publishers was the first time Do Yun came to see me. It was also the last time I could remember what my reflection looked like in a mirror.

That morning I’d woken up to a nasty hangover. My head was spinning, and I wanted to vomit the last remaining liquids in my stomach. I was sure I looked like shit, so I didn’t care to look at my face in the mirror. I just splashed water on my face and gargled some mouth wash to feel a little more refreshed. But then, as I faced the mirror, nothing, there was nothing there. I gasped. “What the fuck?” I asked myself aloud in disbelief. I must still be drunk I thought. But, no, I looked again. And again, nothing. There was nothing in the mirror but the reflection of the wall behind me.

I thought, ‘Is this some joke?’ I wiped down the mirror with my right hand to see if something was covering it. I touched my face to make sure it was still there. Maybe someone had slipped some drugs into my drink at the gay bar we were at last night. I hadn’t done anything crazy the night before, and I could clearly remember everything that happened. I wasn’t a heavy drinker or into using street drugs, so what the fuck was this?

Touching the empty space in the mirror where my reflection should have been I suddenly felt the hairs on the back of my neck stick up. Goosebumps rose all over my skin as a chill ran down my spine. I suddenly felt like there was another presence in the bathroom with me. I stood still and took a deep breath. A few seconds passed by and I looked around the room to see if there was anyone else there. Nothing. I turned around to look in the mirror again. Nothing.

“I must be seeing things,” I said to myself. Deciding that I just needed more sleep, I went back to bed to calm down my nerves. I didn’t believe in the paranormal at that point, but things changed very quickly after that. When I woke up that evening, I didn’t head to the bathroom first. Instead, I went to the kitchen and drank some water. Then I couldn’t avoid it any longer and had to go pee. I didn’t look up as I washed my hands.

‘This is fucking ridiculous,’ I scolded myself before I pushed myself to look into the mirror. This time I jumped back with a shout. It wasn’t me! It was another Asian boy, someone younger. His skin was pale and putrid. His black hair looked damp, and his clothes looked as if they had been soaked through. But what stood out the most were his eyes — those bloodshot eyes, so sad and yet so terrifying.

“Hoon, ah,” I heard him call out to me. It was the last thing I recalled before I blacked out and woke up the next morning on the bathroom floor.

I woke up with a start. ‘It must have been a nightmare,’ I thought. But, again, when I looked in the mirror, I saw nothing.

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

The mirror suddenly cracked as if someone had taken a hammer and smashed it. I let out a scream and rushed out the door. I couldn’t stay in that apartment for another minute. So, I ran around to grab my cell phone and keys and shot out the front door without even changing out of my pajamas and headed over to my agent’s apartment a few blocks down the street.

“What’s up, sister?” Casey asked when she answered my phone call.

“Casey, you gotta help me. I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Huh, what’s going on?”

“I can’t see my reflection.”

“What?”

“When I look in the mirror, I can’t see my reflection. I saw this ghost, a dead person instead!”

“Whoa, are you still drunk from the other night?”

“No! You know I’m a lightweight. I’m serious. I think I’m going crazy, man.”

“OK, OK. Just calm down. Where are you?”

“In front of your building.”

“OK, I’ll come down to get you, just stay calm. OK?”

“OK.”

After I explained what happened to Casey, he wasn’t too sure what to make of it. Like a couple of scared teenage boys, we held hands and went into his bathroom to see what would happen. Nothing. I could see our reflections just fine. Casey’s face was clean shaved, and his hair meticulously styled with pomade. I, on the other hand, looked like shit. My hair was a crow’s nest, my skin was pallid, and even though I didn’t have much facial hair, I still needed a clean shave. Still, I was relieved. At least it was just all in my head and I could see myself in the mirror again.

I went back home that day thinking perhaps I was more stressed out than I thought. Casey suggested seeing a therapist or getting laid. Both options felt like homework to me, but I thought the second option was much quicker, so we decided to meet up that night at another bar we went to for hookups. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was still too scared to look into the mirror by myself. So, I went ahead with the day without trying to look again. It was just wishful thinking really.

It wasn’t a weekend, so the club wasn’t completely packed. Still, there were a good amount of good-looking guys to pick for a night of exercise. I wanted to find someone who could help me release some pent-up sexual tension I didn’t realize I even had. It reminded me of the Victorian times and the creation of dildos to cure hysteria. I hadn’t used a dildo since high school, and the last time I’d had sex was sophomore year in college at a party. I know I’m not exactly the top of the crop, but finding a good fuck is really hard.

Still, it didn’t take too long for me to spot a beautiful brunette looking at me from the other end of the room. He was holding a tumbler of whiskey in one hand resting the other in the pocket of his jeans. He wasn’t incredibly muscular, leaner, and athletic-looking, and not incredibly pale, but not tanned. Looking into those sparkling blue eyes he smirked at me, and I had to scoff in return. We both knew the rules of the game. I took my Manhattan with me and asked my friends to wish me luck as I got up from my seat and headed toward the handsome stranger.

I think he said his name was Bailey or Billy, I don’t remember, but he was from out of town, and we went to his hotel room. I remember asking him if he had condoms when we were in the taxi because I wanted to make sure we didn’t need to make any stops before we got to his room. He told me not to worry so we headed straight to the hotel. When we got into the room, we didn’t go at it like animals. Instead, he offered me some champagne and suggested we showered before we started to have sex. This was exactly what I was looking for, so I was pretty happy with how things were going.

We were both naked in the large shower and started kissing as the hot water ran down our bodies. I felt his hands squeeze my buttocks as he drew my body closer to his. I felt his penis rub against mine and I let out a hum of satisfaction as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I felt his warm tongue wrap around mine and I could taste the saltiness of his saliva as we wrestled our tongues as snakes intertwined. Just as Billy, or Bailey, lifted my leg and pushed my back against the wall I realized we didn’t bring any condoms into the bathroom, and I opened my eyes. That’s when I noticed the mirror in front of me. Again, I couldn’t see my reflection. I gasped and let out a shout. I pushed the other guy off me and slid open the glass shower door. There was nothing, again. I could see the other guy, I could see the shower, and I could see the steam from the water behind me, but I couldn’t see myself.

“Do you see me?” I asked the guy as I pointed to the mirror.

“See what”

“Me?” I said — my eyes opened wide with fear. “Do you see my reflection?”

“Dude, what are you talking about,” the guy asked me with a confused look on his face. “Of course, I can see your reflection. Are you on something?”

“No,” I replied with a weak voice.

I turned around to look at my reflection again. It wasn’t there. I panicked. My heart began to beat thunderously in my ears, and I looked all over the mirror in search of my missing reflection. I went out of the bathroom, got my things, and left the hotel room without even saying goodbye to Billy, or whatever his name was. I was in a daze as I walked out of the hotel and hailed a taxi. When I got home I put my keys and phone down on the table in the hallway as always. I stared at the short hallway to the bathroom door. It was dark because I hadn’t turned on any of the other lights in my apartment.

Slowly, I made my way down to the bathroom and took a deep breath before I opened the door. I stood in the doorway and turned on the lights. I looked around the bathroom from the doorway. After a few seconds, I finally stepped inside to face the mirror right next to the door. It was empty. I could see the door’s reflection, but nowhere was my face or body. I had just blinked when suddenly “it” appeared again — the boy.

“Hoon, ah,” he called to me in a sad, longing voice.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this to me,” I demanded.

Suddenly the mirror cracked as if it had been smashed and I screamed with fear. This time I did not pass out. Instead, I ran. I grabbed my keys and my phone, and I ran out of my apartment. I ran and ran as if I were getting away from debt collectors. When I suddenly felt a jab in the side of my stomach I had to stop and take several breaths. Finally, I looked around me and realized I was lost.