Murder Through The Mirror

         “July 14th, 2011
It was all over the news about what happened to Greg. There was nothing wrong with him. He was happy and healthy one day, and then the next he was found dead in his room. No overdose, no illnesses, no poison, no… nothing. My best friend died and there was no explanation for what happened. And that was the most frightening part. It wasn’t that he was dead, because I know death is going to come for everyone one day, but it was the fact that I didn’t even know how it happened. And now he’s just a body in a box and will soon be in a hole almost ten feet underneath the surface. I’ve mourned for him ever since he left, and now there isn’t pain anymore. It’s this craving to know what happened to him. It’s sadistic, yes, but I don’t think I can ever truly let go of my friend until I know what happened to him.”
         I closed my pink, leather bound diary and set it back in the trapdoor in the bottom of my drawer; a secret place for my personal thoughts. Nothing was really personal when you’re the popular student council girl. Everyone seems to know everything about you even when you don’t. That was one thing I missed about Greg. He knew nothing about me and knew everything at the same time. He never questioned me or wanted to know what I was doing or what was wrong. He took me as he saw me. But no one took him as they saw him. The nerdy little gay boy was all they saw. I saw the sweet, charming, sarcastic and trustworthy friend. I knew everything about him though. And now this feeling is inside of me to know how he died and why. I don’t understand it, but it’s like something is telling me that I need to know.
         I went over to my full length mirror and looked at myself in the mirror. I had my black dress on with matching shoes. My hair was flat from a whole hour of care to it. And I wore the little pink charm bracelet Greg gave me for my birthday five years ago. And every one of my birthdays since then he added charms to it that he liked or thought I would like, or they symbolized good times we had together. The charms clanked together, years of memories and friendship on my tiny wrist. And now there would be no more.
         “I miss you Greggy.” I mumbled his pet name, blinking back threatening tears.
         “Oh get over yourself.” A voice echoed in my room. I instantly looked up and whirled around, searching for the location of the voice. A voice that sounded… like me? “Behind you!” It shouted, and I jumped back around to look at the mirror. But instead of seeing my reflection like I should be, I saw myself like I never thought I would. In my reflection I had short, spiky black hair tipped with blue highlights, unlike my long blonde hair.  I wore a tank top that revealed half of my stomach and an old jacket that looked like it belonged to a guy. I wore black and blue stripped knee socks, scuffed up converse, and shorts with holes in them. I didn’t look like myself. I looked ruff and un-kept and it frightened to see me this way.
         “A little shocking, huh?” My other self smirked. “How you doing Macey?” She asked. But I was baffled. I was delusional. I was crazy. There had to be an explanation to this.
         “How…?” I began, but she held up a gloved finger to silence me. It didn’t take much. I felt like fainting.
         “Let me introduce myself first. My name is Macey Longhorn, born January 10th of 1993. Does this ring a bell?” She asked, but I couldn’t speak. That was my name and my birthday. Oh my…
         “Who are you?” I whispered, fearful of what I was seeing. I was crazy. I have to be. But then she started spilling out more information; her social security number, her school, her favorite food, etc. Everything was mine. Everything was hers. We were the same. But that was impossible. I was seeing an alternated reflection of me. But we were the same.
         “Nu-uh. We’re not the same really.” She replied with sarcastic smile. Oh great, now I was reading my own mind. “You see Macey, I live in a different world than you do.  One that isn’t plush with pink pillows, great parents, or an amazing life style. I am a side of you that no one will ever see. We are the same in the inside, but on the outside we are nothing alike. And you know what?” She grinned, and I swore I saw the evil in her eyes—my eyes. I was too scared to move or answer by it.
         “I want what you have.” She answered.
         It took me a second to reply, my voice was cowering in the back of my throat. “But… you’re me. This isn’t possible.” I breathed slowly, trying to stop myself from passing out.
         “Did you not just hear me?” She snapped, and I saw what she meant by us not being the same. I didn’t really anger—I simmered and wrote about it. But she was fiercer than me. Scarier. “I said we are not the same. I am the opposite of you on the outside and inside, except the fact that we are joined together from birth.” She explained. But I was shaking now. I was panicking because I was scared of what I was seeing and the fact that I was starting to believe this.
         “No! It’s not possible! You’re not real!” I shouted, the tears spilling over. But when I blinked through them I saw what she meant by a different world. My room in the reflection had no windows, a small twin bed with a sleeping bag, a lamp and a few other things. It was the opposite of my room in every way possible. My room was full of light from the windows, a big full size bed with a soft pink comforter, a vanity and every corner of my room was full with something that brought joy to my life.
         “I am real. I am as real as you.” She grinned, and then…
         She stepped through the mirror. She took form and shape and standing in front of me I realized we could be twins. A different side of me that would always be a part of me. But she was lethal looking, terrifying. I backed away and bumped into my desk.
         “What do you want?” I almost cried.
         “I want your life. Every choice you make in life backfires on me and becomes the opposite thing for me. You make an ‘A’ on a test, I make a lower grade. You get a friend, I don’t. You don’t get your wish, and then I do. But the problem is that you get everything you want. So do your parents. You all succeed in everything, and get everything, and do everything… and my parents and I get nothing! I’m sick of it!” Now she sounded like she was the one who wanted to cry. I paused at this and I saw myself even more in her. A scared person who was just trying to make their name in the world. But if what she was saying was the truth, then I was the only person with a chance at that.
         “I—I’m sorry.” I whispered, hoping I’d still reach the person who like me. I was wrong. Her evil grin returned and she glanced up at me.
         “’Sorry’ isn’t going to make up for it. I only get one chance of make my life better, and I’m not going to waste it on ‘sorry’. Just like Greg wasn’t.” What she said made the air leave my lungs.
         “G-Greg?” I gasped.
         “You know… I have a diary too. I’d like to read you today’s entry that I wrote before you had the chance to erase that opportunity.” She said and pulled out a black, spiral bound note book. She flipped through a few pages and began reading.
         “I’ve written thousands of times in here how much I hate my other self, but apparently I’m not alone. There is such a thing as instant connections and that’s what I had with this one boy that I passed on the street, and I knew he felt it too by the way he looked at me. But there was that force, pushing us away when we saw each other. Our other halves were close, so we couldn’t even talk. But just a few days ago he walked right up to me and there was no force. He talked to me like we had known each other forever, and when I asked how he was even able to come near me without that boundary line he told me his secret. He got to his other half, and when they touched he felt like he was connected to his other half even more. He then grabbed the wrist of his other half and concentrated on that pull, and he felt like there was a life source inside of him. And then his other half dropped dead. He finally figured out that when two halves touch they begin to conform to one another, and it’s the stronger half that wins. Greg killed his gay other half, and now I am going to kill mine so there it is definite that we can be together in any of the worlds.” And then she closed the book and smirked at me.
         I instantly fled for the door, screaming for my parents. But something pushed me back hard and flung me against the wall. I groaned in pain, my side throbbing, and finally looked up. But when I did I gasped in horror. Standing in front of the door was…
         “Oh, I didn’t know you came through.” I heard my ‘other half’ speak out. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the figure blocking my door. Someone I thought I would never see again.
         “Greg.” I gasped. He looked just like he had the last time I saw him. The Greg that I knew… the one that was dead. Killed. Murdered.
         “I’m not the one you know.” I gritted his teeth, as if he was in pain to talk to me. Then he snapped his head back to my other half. “You need to get it over with. Our world will be trying to pull you back soon.” He said. My other half nodded and advanced to me.
         “No…” I backed closer to the wall. “Greg, please I know you’re the same Greg I knew.” I pleaded with the guy in front of me.
         “No can do Macey. You’ll never see that side of Greg again.” He narrowed his eyes. But I kept staring at him, unable to tear my eyes away from my best friend. The best friend that looked… just like the Greg I really did know. This side of Greg wasn’t an opposite from the Greg I knew. He wasn’t like my other half. “You can do it, darling.”
         Darling. The little pet name Greg had given me. And then I saw it, the light in Greg’s eyes. This Greg was my Greg. And when my other half’s hand touched my shoulder I knew what to do, thanks to the fact that one of the differences between me and my other half was she was a big mouth and I wasn’t.