• “I thought I told you to get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich!” a smelly man with a beer-belly shouted, before slapping his wife on the cheek.
    She fell to the floor, her face as red as a strawberry patch. She looked at the rest of her body. Second degree burns covered her arms, her legs were bruised, and her face was black and blue. When is this going to end? The only thing louder than her moans of pain and agony was the crying of a baby.
    “Look what you did! You woke up Charlie,” complained the abused.
    “Wailing like a fire alarm, he takes after you,” chuckled the angry dad.
    The woman ran down a hallway and into a room, but fell.
    “Ah!” she screamed. The suffering woman turned her leg over and saw a steak knife lodged in it. Her head started spinning. The pain soared through her body, resulting in her leg pounding-pounding in pain. She shut her eyes and let out a deep breath before griping the knife. She slowly pulled it out, her screaming now as loud as her son’s. The woman heard footsteps approaching and she covered her ears to get a grip on things and to concentrate. It was like death was stalking towards her, coming slowly, almost as if to torture her with anticipation.
    “Get away from my son!” the man shouted.
    “Roy, you’re drunk! Just let me take Charlie to my mother’s house,” pleaded the lady.
    “No. You’re going to-” Roy belched “-make me a sandwich.”
    Roy’s face turned emotionless, but yet twisted. He threw his beer can to the side and wrapped his hands around his wife’s throat and he began to shake her. She gasped for air, she gasped for life. She gasped anything-just not this. What would you do in a life-or-death situation? Would you do anything, no matter what it takes? Would you do what you didn’t think you would, for the ones you love? If you ask anyone, they will say “it depends, nothing irrational though”, but when you are in a one-on-one with fate, it’s different.
    But this woman didn’t even think about it. She thrust the knife into Roy’s chest. Roy’s eyes widened, his mouth gaped open-he was in shock. He held the handle, but couldn’t pull the knife out. It was obvious to the lady that his energy was drained and he was dying. Roy fell to his knees, shut his eyes, and never opened them again. The lady wasn’t happy, sad, nor mad…but confused. Where to go from here, was what raced through her mind.
    Ten years later, Nina walked into Art Van. She feared one thing: walking into the store with one thing in mind, but ending up buying more. “Impulsive shopping” is the word for it, but she didn’t care, she just wanted in and out.
    “Hey. Can you show me where the mirrors are?” Nina asked an employee.
    “Hmmm…I think we’re temporarily all out. I’m terribly sorry for this inconvenience. Try stopping by in a week or so, I think that’s when we get a new shipment in,” explained a perky worker. She wore the fakest smile Nina had ever seen.
    This made Nina about as angry as taking a shower when the hot water is depleted. She was about to vent to the employee, but something distracted her.
    “Hey you, with the shirt,” she heard a voice whisper to her.
    Was she going crazy? Have past traumatic events in her life made her mentally unstable, like her mother has told her all along? No, she was not: a man stepped out from behind a sofa on display. He was a bit odd looking. This man was unusually short, had little hair, looked older looking, bald (except for a few hairs), and had glasses. His face looked scrunched-up, as if he puckered after he ate a lemon and never lost that face. Nina stared at him with a puzzled face and pointed to herself, as if saying “who, me?”
    The loony-looking man nodded and-out of pure instinct-she approached him. Animals have instincts, such as gathering food or caring for their young. But, obviously, humans are much different. Our instincts tell us to do stuff that, from other people’s view, looks stupid. But for some reason, we do it.
    “Um, yes?” responded Nina.
    “Need a mirror, you say?” asked the man.
    “Yeah, I do. Do you have one in the back?” replied Nina, seeing he wore a name tag, thus he was an employee. The tag read “Shell”.
    “Follow,” said Shell plainly.
    Nina didn’t know what to think of the caveman talk, but she followed Shell. She followed him past the couches, past the lamps, and into a small storage room. The storage room contained nothing but a chair, a table, a radio, and a…mirror. This mirror looked as old as cheesy pick-up lines. Cobwebs practically made themselves a home on its rough exterior. The mirror was rectangular and had corners so sharp they could poke someone’s eye out. But a mirror is the one thing where its appearance doesn’t matter, but yours does.
    Nina gazed at her own reflection. It was stunning. It was just her normal self, but something about the reflection seemed different, brighter, and just better. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but this mirror’s reflection seemed more…complete. She didn’t know what was missing before, but she could sense there was, in fact, something missing before. It’s not something she saw, but something she felt. It was like a super model disguised as a fat guy. She could see the fat guy, but not the super model. She felt like she could now see the super model with this mirror…but why?
    “The boss was talking to some people yesterday. He said he’s going to fire me today. I need to get rid of this”-he nodded to the mirror-“you can have it, free of charge,” the old geezer offered. He grinned, showing his nasty, yellow, crooked teeth.
    “Yeah, I’ll take it,” Nina said.
    Apartments are always thought of as a home for people that can’t afford an actual house. But nobody ever thinks someone can afford a house, but wants an apartment. Nina is one of these rare people. To Nina, the smaller home made her feel, well, safe.
    The mirror stood vertically beside Nina’s balcony. She liked admiring herself on there, she didn’t know why, but she did. Charlie said it was because she “enjoyed the soft sensation of the cool breeze”. Nina thought he was just oh so smart; he liked impressing her with his high vocabulary.
    “Go get ready for school, Charlie. I have to drop you off on my way to work today,” Nina said as she walked towards the balcony with her hair brush in one hand.
    While doing her hair, she realized Charlie was right. The warm, summer-morning breeze felt like she was at a beach. It was so relaxing, so refreshing, and so crisp. She looked into the mirror to see her light brown hair blow through the wind. The wind felt like an angel gliding across the sky, honoring it with its presence.
    But, almost suddenly the wind shifted to big gusts: the kind of gusts that are so intense, they can blow your umbrella inside out. This sudden change in wind speed gave Nina goose bumps, from the wind itself and the eeriness. This didn’t scare Nina but, well, it freaked her out. Though, once she glanced at her reflection, she dropped her brush in horror. If she was any more in shock, her jaw would have dropped to the floor. Looking back at Nina…was not her current reflection, but a much younger one. A quick chill rushed down her spine and she was sure the wind was not a factor. This younger reflection of her was not beautiful nor glamorous, but disturbing. Bruises, cuts, scratches, and blood scaled every inch of the reflection. The younger-looking Nina was grasping a kitchen knife and looking down, as if thinking-or praying. The reflection looked up slowly and stared at Nina in the eye…and winked. But, Nina did not.
    How was this possible? This must be a hallucination of some sort, Nina told herself. But on the other hand, the reflection looked so real; it looked crystal-clear. Is her brain playing déjà vu? She already lived through that wretched day! Isn’t that enough without her brain doing this?
    Nina looked away, shut her eyes, inhaled deeply, and let it out. She returned her gaze to the mirror: it was her normal thirty-year-old self looking back at her. She walked away and continued with her day.
    “Mom, I can’t sleep!” Charlie’s voice woke her up. Nina looked at the alarm clock and moaned. It read twelve AM. She did not want to get out of bed; she was tired and had work the next day-but she did anyways. It wasn’t because she felt guilty he couldn’t sleep, but out of pity.
    “Hey, Mom?” moaned Charlie.
    “Yes, Charlie?” Nina replied
    “When is dad returning from Iraq?” he asked
    What would you do to protect someone, not physically, but emotionally? Would you lie to hide something that you think they wouldn’t understand? Lie to hide something that they couldn’t quite grasp? Nina did just this. But she didn’t know how much longer she could keep it up.
    “Never,” she shot back, as fast as a bullet.
    “What if the was never ends?” Charlie asked.
    Nina could sense he was seeing through the web of lies she had weaved. She felt guilty telling her son lies. But what else could she do, say “I killed your abusive father”? She ignored his question and told him “I’m going to shut your door now. Get to sleep, you have school tomorrow.” She walked to her new mirror take her make-up off.
    As she took the make-up off, she felt the familiar strong gusts of wind. This cannot be happening, Nina told herself. The twenty-year old Nina reflection returned. But something was different about it this time. She could feel the horror rush through her veins. Her heart raced, like a marathon runner on steroids. This time, the reflection’s knife dripped blood…which dripped onto the floor on the other side of the mirror. She could actually feel her mind work and process all these crazy images. What was going on here? How was this even possible? Thinking this was all a hallucination, Nina crouched to the floor and touched it.
    The texture, the scent, and just the overall feel, to this blood…it seemed familiar to Nina. The familiarity was the complete opposite of returning home from college. It was a punch in the face from Chuck Norris. She’d remember that feel, that scent, from anywhere: she was touching Roy’s blood. …But how?
    The next day, Nina realized what she must do: return the mirror. The perfect reflection was not worth that trip down memory lane. She entered Art Van and saw the same perky employee.
    “Can you tell me where, um, Shell is?” Nina asked.
    “He isn’t working here anymore. But is there anything I can help you with?” replied the worker. Nina then remembered shell saying he was going to be fired.
    “No thanks, I’m fine,” Nina said politely.
    After some research, Nina found his address. She sat in his drive way an hour later and took a deep breath before exiting the car. The house was as ordinary as ordinary can get. It was one floor, had no pool, nor additions-it was just a house. Nina knocked twice on the door.
    “Who’s there?!” shouted a voice.
    Nina scanned the area, but saw nobody. Then, she saw a speaker next to the door. The speaker had a blue button next to it, which she pressed and replied “This is Nina Kirkland. You gave me this mirror. I t has been weird, for me at least-” Her little introduction was interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking. The door opened and Shell looked as if a bear walked in his bathroom, used it, and left: pretty surprised.
    “Please, come in,” gestured Shell, in his old-man voice.
    Shell’s house reminded Nina of Applebees. Random objects were tacked on the walls. Not just posters, but frying pans, bicycle tires, a beach towel, a psychedelic painting of a pickle, clippings of newspaper articles, a head of a hammerhead shark, and many more bizarre objects. Well, at least objects that are not ordinarily tacked onto walls. It was like a bulletin board of oddities. Nina looked at the picture of the pickle with a look of confusion, but also interest. Shell saw this.
    “Everything on this wall represents an event in my life. From learning to cook, to catching a shark, I have saved everything. I like to look at life as a puzzle and these are the pieces to it. Without the pieces of a puzzle, how can you see the product, the final result? You can’t, Nina, you just can’t. I use these memories to look back at my life,” explained the old geezer.
    “Well, the mirror you gave me…it has a good reflection. It’s not good, it’s perfect. But there’s something different about it-” Nina started.
    “Yeah, I know,” Shell stated.
    “…you know?” Nina asked in surprise.
    “Yeah,” he said simply.
    “Then why did you give it to me?”
    “The mirror has the ability to show you your past. But there is an evil hidden deep in it’s depths that feeds on the person’s sorrow. The evil’s appearance depends on the person though”-Shell looked at the frying pan and took a deep breath-“when I saw you that day in the store…there was something in your eyes, that when I looked into them, I knew you were the one to rid this evil. And the fact that you came into the store, looking for a mirror, is fate,” Shell explained.
    “You expect me to believe that?” laughed Nina, sounding a bit cocky.
    “I sure do. That is the truth and I think you drove here for answers. If you don’t like the answers I gave you, well, I don’t know what to tell you,” said Shell with a “ha!-take that!” kind of look. Nina did not want to believe this hunk of lies, but yet, she could not stop thinking about it on her way home.
    Nina stood on her balcony that night. She didn’t have make-up to remove or anything, she just stared at the mirror. She wanted to see this “evil”, she wanted proof Shell wasn’t-as the cowboys would say-blowing smoke up her but. Well, after all, nobody likes being lied to. What broke the caboose on her train of thought was a strong gust of wind. The trees swayed to and fro from the long breeze. But something caught her eye.
    A hand came through the mirror.
    Nina pinched herself to reassure she was, indeed, awake. Unfortunately, she was. This hand was half in the mirror and half outside of it, as if it was reaching towards Nina. She screamed so loud her throat was sore. Next, the rest of the body came through, almost like it was a portal. Nina observed this…thing in disgust. Its face, the worst of all, made her cry in fear. It was the face of a drunk, of a psycho, of an abuser, of Roy. His face resembled a monster. The skin on the left side of its face was just…not there. Just blood and bone was left. It smelt rotten, filthy, and dead. But its worst physical feature was the gaping hole in his chest. It was like it wasn’t even human, but a living reminder-an evil. It turned its head and gazed into Nina’s eyes, like it was remembering the last day he saw her. But how could it?
    The evil leapt forward, like a pouncing cheetah. But Nina was quicker, she dove and fell backwards. It was now where she was previously standing. Suddenly, something dawned on her: I must wake Charlie, she thought. Nina sprung to her feet and dashed down the hall to Charlie’s room. She didn’t dare look back; she could sense it following her.
    “Charlie! Wake up, sweetie. We have to go,” said Nina, literally shaking him awake.
    “What? Where are we going?” Charlie asked, rubbing his eyes and yawing.
    “Anywhere but here”
    She grabbed his hand and led him down the hall. She turned the corner to the kitchen, and eerie enough, there was no sigh of the evil.
    “This is what I want you to do, Charlie: go and stay next door. Tell Mrs. Loraine someone broke in our house. Stay there, and if she asks, say mom has it under control. Okay?” Nina requested.
    “But-”started Charlie, sounding scared.
    “Just do it!” screamed Nina.
    Charlie’s hand just grasped the doorknob when they heard a roar. A roar so loud, so powerful, their ears were ringing like chimes on an autumn evening. The evil was creeping towards them.
    “Mom, who’s he?” whimpered Charlie.
    “He’s nobody. Hurry! Go!” shouted Nina.
    “I. Am. Your. Father,” the evil roared. Its voice was more of a growl, than a voice, barking each word separately.
    “Don’t listen to him!” warned Nina.
    The evil lifted her up in the air and threw her effortlessly, but yet, it was like he was throwing a medicine ball. She flew through the air, slid across the kitchen counter, and hit the floor with a thud. Charlie opened the door, exited, and slammed the door shut. Everything that was on the counter now fell to the ground or on her. Nina looked up from the floor to see the evil bend its knees: he was going to attempt to pounce on her again.
    She could not get up.
    Pain was pulsing through every inch of her body. She felt like someone squeezed a voodoo doll of her with a hand of torture. Even if she could get up, she thought she’d be too paralyzed from fear to move. Was this her fate? No, she could not take that. She could not absorb that as a whole: death. She turned her head to the side, even though it hurt- she just couldn’t watch. But a shine of light caught her eye. It reflected off of a knife next to her, which fell off the counter when she was thrown. At the sight of this, her spirits instantly rose.
    The evil sprung up into the air. It was like he was a pogo stick. If his head went any higher, it would have hit the ceiling. Nina stretched her arm as far as she could, just barely reached the handle of the knife. She gripped the knife as hard as she could and straightened her arm up in the air. The evil fell onto Nina, expecting that she would be the one to die. It fell from the air and pierced through Nina’s knife. To her, it seemed like she had lived through this before. She lied there on her back, facing a dead nemesis.
    “Ahhhh!” roared the evil with its final breath.
    Then…the evil disappeared. Without warning or hesitation, it just vanished, like the TV screen when you hit the power button. Taking its place was a small ball of light. Nina just sat there, dumbfounded by what just happened. This ball of white light made no sound; it floated a couple feet above the ground. Nina had a look on her face so puzzled that even if she had all the pieces to it, it couldn’t be re-assembled. She reached out a hand and touched this mysterious, new thing. It darted as fast as, well, light to the balcony. It charged into the mirror, and with a loud “crack”, it busted into pieces. Nina used all of her remaining strength to rise up from the floor. Her body ached from bruises, but pain didn’t bother her anymore-she knew this was the end of the end. The tough chick limped to the balcony to see what was left of the mirror.
    The hundreds of pieces from the mirror…disappeared, similar to the body of the evil. Well, not all the pieces vanished, just one shard remained, just one, lonely shard out of the whole mirror. She stood there on her balcony, like she has many times, and she thought. And after some thinking, she didn’t cry, but she laughed. She laughed until it hurt. How perfect! How perfect, she thought. Nina picked up this shard, limped to the now thrashed kitchen, and retrieved a roll of duct tape. She posted the shard on the wall, right above her couch. If you don’t have the pieces to the puzzle, how can you assemble it in the end?