Writer's Cramp-Face in the Mirror

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The Writer's Cramp  (13+) Write the best poem or story in 24 hours or less and win 10K GPS! #333655 by SophyBells

NEW PROMPT:
You wake up one morning, go into the bathroom, and look in the mirror. A different face stares back at you. Begin your STORY here.


”Whoa!” I sputtered as I spun around to see whose reflection was staring at me in my bathroom mirror. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind simultaneously in the split second that it took for me to do an about-face. My bathroom was much too small to accommodate more than one person at a time; much less accommodate a total stranger. As I stood there facing my very familiar wall, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Wake up” I said out loud to myself as I gave myself a hearty awakening slap. What was I thinking? Who would want to be in this cramped closet-like excuse of a bathroom with me? There was more room in the backseat of my husband’s bright yellow VW that he had when we were in high school than there was in this bathroom.

As I glanced into the mirror again, just about to start my daily routine of brushing my teeth and begrudging the too many years that reflected on my face, I was again painfully startled to discover that very different face peering back at me. Not the face that I had become accustom, and certainly not the face that my family, friends, and employer are use to seeing. I just stood there frozen in time, and starred right back.

“Honey, are you going to come have coffee with me?” My husband’s voice boomed. He always spoke too loud too early every morning.

“Probably not today dear” I managed to reply.

Then remembering those new-fangled psychedelic type mirrored posters that my children have on their walls I tried to scratch and peel the image from the mirror. I could feel nothing on the mirror’s slick glass surface. I deduced that I must still be asleep; although I could still feel the sting on my cheek from the slap I gave myself moments earlier. I decided to just sit down on the toilet, and start reading from chapter 6 where I had left off the evening before. With four needy children, and a husband whose company that I thoroughly enjoyed, the throne room was the only quiet place that I was able to steal time to read my Harlequin romance paperback novels. Sure it was light reading compared to the technical papers I had to review on a daily basis in my employment as Senior Technical Writer, but I found that the Blaze series relaxed me while restoring my faith in mankind. And finding the minor little errors in professional published books renewed my hopes of actually getting some of my own fictional works published someday. I breezed through the next 16 pages.

I heaved a sign of relief, convinced that I was fully awake, and stood up to once again start my daily routine. I was sincerely hoping that the image in the mirror would once again be a familiar one.

There the face was again. I realized that the sudden appearance of an uninvited guest into my bathroom could only be the remnants of some paranoid delusion. I intently studied the face.

“This can’t be real. I am neither paranoid nor the Wicked Step-mother in Cinderella. Therefore I must be losing my mind.” I mumbled calmly to myself.

“No, you certainly aren’t.” Came the reply.

“Unless you are a genie about to give me the winning lottery numbers, I would just as soon that you went back to from where you came.” I said harshly with my eyes squeezed shut.

“And I am certainly not a genie, but it is a nice thought.” The face laughingly remarked.
“Then would you please explain your reflection in my bathroom mirror?” I said very sternly. The confidant tone of my voice shocked me, after all I was standing in my bathroom having a conversation with a reflection that was not my own.

“Of course Dear, I am your Fairy Godmother.” The heavenly inflection and tone of the mirrored image washed over me like I was standing under a soothing waterfall of sparkling spring water.

“Nope that’s not it. I don’t believe you.” I stated emphatically. “I don’t have a Fairy Godmother, but if I did I owe you one huge ass whooping. If you are who you claim to be, where the hell have you been all my life?”

“Right here, dear.” The pleasant voice replied, obviously unshaken by my angry tone.

Could it possibly be true? My mind was flooded with thoughts of the thousands of times I prayed for help, cried for solace, or pleaded for just something… anything to ease my earthly torments. I was face to face with an image that claimed to be the Fairy Godmother that I had given up on in my early childhood years. Now, here she was in my lowly bathroom mirror. “Nope, I repeat… I don’t believe you!”

“Well I will admit that I had lost track of time, and you certainly have grown up in my absence.” Stated the sugary sweet voice.

“So now you are going to make excuses for letting me slip through the cracks. I guess this is not going to end up being a Cinderella story, is it? Just my damn luck.” The tone of my voice indicated I was definitely challenging this Fairy Godmother.

“I can make up for lost time…just where in your life would you like me to start making the changes?” Quizzed the Fairy Godmother image in the mirror.

“I will try to make your job easy. Just make me healthy, wealthy and wise.” I spoke the words; not believing how fast and easy the request poured from my lips.

I noticed a slight grin appear on the face in the mirror. “That’s all?” I could hear the amusement in her voice. So you want to be as healthy as a horse, as rich as Bill Gates, and as wise as the Solomon, do I understanding you correctly?

Suddenly the small cramped bathroom filled with thick, sweet smelling bellowing smoke. I quickly started groping the wall feeling for the heat/fan/light switches. I flipped the fan switch on, while standing there waving my arms trying to help the smoke to clear faster. Then another image was slowly becoming visible in the mirror. I was feeling relived that this psychotic episode was finally coming to an end.

I was frozen in horror as I viewed the reflection in the mirror. There I stood, still feeling like me but looking like a Frankinsteinish combination of _____________, ____________, and ____________.


(Fill in the blanks for your own amusement. I am over the word limit and have to stop now. Word count = 1132. ROTFLOL)
Sincerely,
The Critic

I would certainly appreciate your sending me your contributions to the end of this story. I will pick the best combination and list the user that helped me complete it.