Mirage

In Richard's room was only heard the continuous click of the mouse and the incessant sound of the keys of his computer after being pressed. In the night, when he had no outstanding obligations for the University, he spent hours and hours surfing the internet, wasting his miserable time from page to page. He was a fan of horror stories, and when he wasn't eating with his eyes the profiles of his females classmates, he was listening old tales of past events. Ghostly legends and unsolved mysteries were presented before him, and Richard received them with open arms.

He never feared any paranormal video, nor he feared any stories of dubious origins. But that night, on the verge of closing the tabs and take the roll of toilet paper, a story called his attention. Not by the fact of being particularly frightening, or being really peculiar, the World of the Mirror induced in him certain fascination. Prior to the last click, Richard was perplexed in the darkness of the room, observing the artificial light of the screen. After all, he got a special history now; a story that he could verify himself.

It was simple. According to the story, the only thing that Richard had to do was, under a dim light, standing in front of the mirror. He would only be limited to observe his eyes. After a few minutes, his mind would start to wander, and suddenly his face would warp. Rather than be looking at his face, now he would be looking at the Richard of the World of the Mirror. The legend was that if the subject passed long time looking at the face of his double, the roles would change, and such person would be transported to theWorld of the Mirror, where everything was unknown; dark.

Richard, always skeptical and, in a way, driven to prove himself his atheist belief, wanted to verify this legend. He got up, he had an erection. He didn't know why. He checked his cell phone: 2 A.M. He went to the bathroom's mirror. It was a small mirror, but big for a bathroom. Richard looked at his computer screen; He decided to leave it on. He left the door of the bathroom openned. With everything ready, he stared at the mirror. He felt stupid.

He noted his smooth and oily hair, he realized he needed a new haircut. He didn't look handsome at all. The computer light shone into his factions. After a few minutes of distraction, Richard looked into his eyes. They were like his mother's, people said. Of a deep, beautiful blue. Richard had the impression that he mistook the colors, because he had always seen them of a watery green hue, but it was a matter of perspective. But, why the people saw them as blue? And... why were Richard's eyes now purple?

He felt a chill. His legs trembled and he noticed an erection again. He cursed his subconscious mind. Eyes turned into a deep vermillion red, and Richard, hypnotized, approached to the mirror. The eyes he saw were not his own; they were truly gruesome. He was afraid to divert the view and focus on something else. But that same thought made him change his view and, without blinking at any time, he concentrated on the mouth. Then, he saw the nose, cheeks and forehead. All without blinking. His skin was sweating. Richard said to himself that everything had to be an horrible nightmare, because the face that was in front of him was not his. It couldn't be him.

The face of the mirror was distorted. He had numerous scars and the hair was fading, gray. But in the factions he recognized a young face, the face of a 19-year-old boy, the age of Richard.

For a moment he thought he was crazy, that what he was seeing was not but a figment of his imagination. Then he closed his eyes strongly, wishing that the face in the mirror disappeared completely. He felt a nudge, as if something pushed him with all its strength, and then he opened his eyes.

He was laying in bed. He saw his room and noticed that the bathroom door was closed. He sighed with relief. Then he felt sweat, and realize that the bed was completely wet. The sheets were impregnated with a strong smell of urine, but Richard didn't care: he had lived the most horrible nightmare of his life. A smile spread over his face. He quickly got up and turned on the light. The computer was turned off, the cellphone too. He put it aside and went to the bathroom. Not remembering the mirror, drowsy from the cold, bad night, Richard washed his face. Feeling his hands on his face, he smiled again. Then he looked up at the mirror, and poor Richard fell nearly fainted on the floor.
In the mirror was, in broad daylight, the face with the same red eyes and the same scars.

He fell unconscious.

He understood, at last, that he had entered the World of the Mirror.