‘Well, to be honest it was the worst hallucination that I’d personally experienced.  My face telling me in the mirror that it’d be much, much better if I just simply ended it all.  No more hell in my head the promise was.  I knew it for a trick the moment I saw it.  The voices were saying feel good feel good, and at first I thought of it as a statement.  As I stared there I heard changes in the inflections and then knew the message was a question.  No I fucking don’t, I thought.  This shit’s giving me severe fear.  At that, the mirror was lying.

 Went to my dresser and pulled out my pair of gas-powered steelball BB guns.  Not even .22 but they packed a nice compressed air punch.  Shoot through both sides of a can of beans.  Went back in the bathroom and emptied one into my reflection.  Wouldn’t you after that shit?  Well, wouldn’t you?  Glass shatters and a few shards cut into my arms.  Hurts even as it dies.  Evil fuck.  Grab the rest of my ammo and gas cartridges.  Run out of my flat and outside - I know where there are more mirrors - down the end of Queen Street, just after the Jack Inn.  Little office building, mirrored windows.  Seen my reflection there for years, coming home from school, then work, then from pick-ups.  Seen my reflection every fucking day this life, man.  Reflection eating me away.  Running down street.  Catch a sun glare.  Look left.

My reflection in a car window.  Empty one into it.  Then the rest…

Reload and notice my reflection in every car window I come across.  I knew then that cars are hidden mirrors and moved methodically from vehicle to vehicle - windscreen, front left, left wing, back left, rear wing left, rear, rear wing right, back right, right wing, front right and then into the car for the one above the dash.  People looking at me crazy, you know, eyes biting and thrashing, spitting hate..?  Reach the end of Queen and total the Big Mirrors.  My reflection shatters and dies.  Or so I think.  Calm down and someone’s talking to me.  He say calm down, grabs one of my pieces and then says look at me boy, and I do.  In his head, I saw it through his eyeholes, two fucking reflection demons.  Shot him through both eyeball lieballs.  Cunt, I thought and started looking for more eye meat to cleanse.  Cops turn up soon after and I hear cries of put down the gun, drop it or we shoot, kinda shit.  Naturally I turn and get the fuck outta there.  I don’t know, somehow I escaped them, even with their ninja cops diving at me though windows singing knife-happy tunes, whistling katana blades, loadsa shit. 

But now my reflection’s in their bodies.  I seen it go deep inside.  I’m no longer playing with them as arbiter.  Now I take the scores.  Their vision is nothing. 

All the fuckers are mine…

© 2003 Owen Pellow