| Courtesy: kootation.com |
Today’s
Prompt:
You wake up, go to the bathroom and look in
the mirror. A different face stares back at you. Begin your story here.
Word Count: 2,131
“A mirror can be a real pain in
the butt, sometimes,” Emma said, as she stared out the window of the public
transport she was riding in with Afia (as in /mafia/) a friend of hers. Both
women were on their way home from the local Red Cross meeting where they’ve
been to donate blood. They were monthly
blood donors.
“I hear you,” said Afia.
“No, seriously, though. I have
an idea that the mirror in my bathroom is” she searched her mind for the
appropriate word. “Different.”
“Ain’t they all? They even come
in different shapes and sizes and sometimes they go all misty for no reason at
all.”
“I don’t how to put this to you
without giving myself off as a freak. But my mirror is different.” Emma was in
a fix trying to get a message across. She might as well quit trying cause Afia
never gave her mind. Anybody listening in on their conversation would think
Emma was trying too hard. Maybe, it was worth it.
“I’ve stepped into my bathroom once
to find my mirror inclined at an angle,” said Afia. “It hung almost upside
down. I had to say it I mean, I couldn’t help myself. I said to my mirror, “Did
you find what you were looking for?”
Emma
burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. Her friend was always one step ahead
with jokes.
“I mean, it had to be looking
for something. Maybe, it leaned over to get a better view of the bathtub.”
Emma
couldn’t quit chuckling in spite of her dilemma. “Many times, it beats me why
you ain’t out there performing stand-up comedy instead of wasting away in the
shadows as full-time house wife.”
“‘I get around,’” Afia said, doing a bad imitation of 2pac.
Emma
rolled her eyes. And the two women cracked up.
“A bathroom is the creepiest of
places on earth to be at. It’s the most scary spot you are permitted to be in
all by yourself.”
“Well then, take somebody in
with you next time you visit,” Afia teased.
“I can’t quite explain though,
but I’ve been goose-bumped a lot of
times I was in the bathroom and it started right from childhood. The freakishness
has grown and mutated with me right into my married life. In recent times, my
fear of bathrooms walks in a masquerade. When I’m in the restroom, it hides
behind thoughts like, Didn’t you put
pastry in the oven? What’s that horrible stink? Is the baby all right?
Someone’s at the door. Anything that should make I mean, give me an excuse
to hurry it up chop, chop and get out the bathroom. Just of saying or
screaming, ‘Get the hell out of there.’”
Emma threw her arms up in resignation.
“It’s pretty much the same here,
girlfriend.” Afia was always fresh out of comebacks. “Same goes for everybody,
no exceptions.”
Emma looked away from the window
at her friend. “You think that was the case with my mirror, don’t you?”
“What about your mirror, Emma dear?”
“There you go again trying to
make a fool out of me. Quit playing for one minute and hear me out. It’s means
the world to me that you hear my story cause I can’t shake the feeling that my
mirror has evolved.”
“Into what precisely?”
“I don’t know,” Emma said, her
words dripping with perplexity. “And I don’t know how to phrase it… I don’t
know how to put my association with
my mirror into words. It’s so… so… insane.”
“There’s gotta be a way to say
it. There is always a way of saying stuff like this. Start from anywhere. You wake up, go to the bathroom and look in
the mirror and…”
“I looked different. Whatever
that was, it wasn’t my face in the mirror. I saw the face of a stranger. I
grabbed a towel and wiped the mirror. I checked the towel and there was grime
on it or something a novice would
pass off as grime. When I touched it, I felt a vibe like low-voltage electricity
and it had a feel like grease to the touch. It stuck on my fingers and when I
washed it off with soap, it won’t come off. I sponged my hand and scrubbed hard as for
life.
“I rinsed the hand and examined
it. A strange and complicated activity was playing itself out. The grime was still on the tip of my fingers
only it was a little here and a little there. I wanted to get back to scrubbing
on my hands. I halted when I saw the grime vanishing.”
“You mean it evaporated into
thin air like steam? Grime don’t evaporate,
it’s ain’t gas.”
“It didn’t evaporate like water; it sipped into the pores on my fingers.
That’s probably where the others went. Under my skin. I rushed my hand under
the tap and turned on the flow. It did nothing to improve my situation. The
alien substance was under my skin and possibly in my bloodstream. I couldn’t
reverse that.
“How did you feel,” Afia asked.
“After the thing sipped into your
skin?”
“That’s the oddest thing about
the whole ordeal. I felt like million bucks. I looked into the mirror again and
what I thought was grime eons ago was
mere moist.”
“Did you check the towel?”
“Checked the towel and it was
squeaky clean.” Emma said. “Can you feature that? There was no grime and it was a white towel.”
“That was probably the last of
it from the mirror.”
“Not by a long shot. The mirror
was transformed into a window looking out onto pleasant scenery. I felt the
world around me and above me whirl and twirl, and my hair lifted up into the
air intervolving with the convolution.”
Afia
could not say she didn’t believe her friend’s story. Not so late in the day
when the tale’s gotten so complicated. And besides, you could blame Emma for a
lot of things and being overly sentimental was one of them. One thing Afia knew
her friend could not be caught dead doing was constructing tall tale.
“What exactly did you see in the
mirror?” Afia inquired. She saw Emma’s brow constrict and added, “I believe
your story. I’m just curious. I’m kind of new to this plane of thought.”
“What a strange sense of humor
you have.”
“Thank you.”
“I saw a world different from
ours. I don’t know what other way to describe it than tell you it was alien
universe. A place buzzing with creatures that defy human comprehension. They were
giants inside the mirror but when they opened a portal and came through, they shrunk
to the size of Lilliputians. The
creatures were green but unlike leaves, they gave off a faint glow. I stood for
a while staring at this puzzling reality. The longer I lingered there, the
better of that alien planet I pictured. I use pictured because a part of me keeps telling me it’s a dream that’s
already fading like an insect that flies only for a day then sheds its wings
the next.
“Is the mirror still hanging on the wall in your bathroom?”
“Yes?”
“Can I have a look?”
“You don’t ever wanna do that.”
“Why?”
“Because.” Emma shrugged.
The
bus bumped along the busy road while the two women contemplated their prospects
in silence.
“Please,” Afia pleaded.
“It’s dangerous, Afia.” Emma was
one step shy of hysteria. “Let me tell you the rest of the story and then see
if you still want to see that cursed thing. Tell me then if you have any urge
to look into that mirror. First, the
mirror is still there on the wall of my bathroom but I threw a towel over the
thing. That answers your first question. That way its influence is utterly put
in check.”
“What influence do you mean? What else does it do besides project motion
pictures?”
Emma’s
face turned solemn. “It wields a power so corrupt, you can only imagine. While
the revolution I described earlier was going on, I saw my hair in the mirror, go
up in flames. It was a broiling rage of inferno. It was on fire and burning
yet, I felt no heat. As realization came home and the horror clutched my lungs I
ran my fingers through my hair, it was… my hair. Nothing changed. In the
mirror, I could see my eyes. They were blazing balls of orange flames. I
figured they were probably as normal as my hair.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m saying these
things. The mirror had eyes, feelings, and a unique consciousness of its own. The
mirror sees things differently. I
think what I saw was the reality existing side by side with the one we’re
living in.”
Emma
paused for breath. The urgency hung in the air. It hummed a muted hum.
“A form of energy spurted forth through
the screen of the mirror into me. My body shuddered with the inflow of alien
influence. The force poured, gushed, and spouted. I can’t guess how long it
continued. I thought it would never stop. I thought it would last forever.
After what seemed like the breadth of 10,000 lifetimes, it ended. I levitated on
negatively charged air, the atmosphere in the bathroom was charged up with
electric potential.
“I heard and understood the
dialect of the creatures in the mirror. I heard their cries; their charge to me.
They want to be a part of our universe; they wish to communicate with us but first,
we humans must them.
“Ayama” (as in /agama/)
“Your husband?”
Emma
nodded in agreement. “Chose to make an appearance at that peculiar moment. Flames
shot out of my hair and wrapped around him like a blanket. He was grilled
golden brown. Then, tiny creatures that defy description matched out of the
mirror and carted him off saying they didn’t want to leave evidence of their
presence around.
“The band of flame that shot out
of my hair and cooked Ayama was a reflex action. I was completely powerless
against it and I swear to you that I would have stopped it if I could.”
Tears
streaked down Emma’s face as she spoke. The bus was advancing at a crawl and
both women had to check their route. Somebody yelled for the driver to step on
it.
“Each strand of hair possessed a
consciousness and a will of its own. I literally felt them exhale and feed on the
oxygen in the atmosphere and their flames grew bigger, thereby.”
“I wish I could say I
understand,” Afia said. “How can I when I have not seen it? And your husband’s
disappearance, his colleagues are gonna throw a fit if he doesn’t show up for
work. You need a witness or things might get nasty in a hurry. ”
Their
bus came to a halt and both women got off. A very light rain fell. Emma and Afia
lived on the same block and only a few meters apart. Emma was sobbing
convulsively. Afia decided to walk her home.
“How you mustered courage to
cope and contain this misery baffles me. Come, I’ll walk you home.”
Inside
Emma’s apartment, Afia sensed nothing out of place. It was like it’s always
been; just like Emma’s apartment.
“You think I can go have a look
at that mirror of yours?”
Emma’s
eyes grew wide and panicky. “No! don’t try that. Don’t you even dare.”
But
Afia was already trotting in the direction of the bathroom.
“Afia no!” Emma hurried after
her as fast as her sadness allowed her legs but Afia never broke her stride for
a second.
Afia
pushed the door to the bathroom and let herself in. The air was acrid with acid.
It was like walking into liquid electricity. She could almost hear the air in
that place crackle.
Afia
pulled the towel off and revealed a mirror hanging behind it, on the wall. She
suddenly wished she hadn’t.
“Afia.” Emma had just stumbled
in and saw what Afia had done.
Afia
took her eyes off the mirror briefly to look at Emma. She was yet to lay eyes
on the horror Emma had glimpsed. She returned her gaze to the mirror and green
organic tubes like giant octopus’ tentacles reached out of Emma’s looking glass
and rushed at her.
Blood
drained from Afia’s face. She screamed and leaped back. She booked for the door.
Emma was waiting there and her hair had become a ball of sweltering flames. Locks
of fiery hair rose from her scalp and probed Afia’s eyes, ears, mouth and
nostrils. She busted into flames and within minutes, it was as if Afia had
never existed.
Eneh Akpan
June 9, 2013
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