Brielle Engelhardt
Brielle Engelhardt is an English major with a minor in Journalism. She is the treasurer of Venture and was the design editor for this year’s issue. She is in the Baccalaureate Honors Program at Rider, as well as being the treasurer of the national honor society Alpha Lambda Delta. She loves to write and paint and is excited to have both a literary piece and art pieces selected for Venture’s Spring 2025 issue.
There are just too many mirrors in this place, it’s creepy to look around and only see yourself.
Dylan had recently moved into a new house, it was small and felt even smaller with all of the mirrors. When he had moved in the house, it was already furnished and he did not have the time or energy to make any changes. Everything from the curtains, to the rugs, to the couches were old-fashioned. However, as long as he had a place that he could sleep with a roof over his head, then he was happy. Even so, that didn’t prevent his annoyance with the mirrors, he felt as though he was always being watched with the constant reflection of the entire room.
One day, as he was brushing his teeth, he leaned down to spit out the toothpaste and as he stood up, he was met by his reflection just a second too late. It happened so quickly that he wasn’t certain if it happened at all. He quickly brushed it off as he got ready for work, but later that day, when
he was watching TV, he turned his head to look outside the window. He managed to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror, which again, was just a second too slow. He noticed these instances happening more often. At first, it was as if the mirror was delayed just a second, but as time went on, it gradually became more noticeable. Dylan didn’t want to think about what these mirror distortions could mean, so he chose the next best option, covering them up. He took extra sheets, blankets, and towels in order to cover the mirrors. When he ran out of sheets, he resorted to taking a few mirrors off the wall and placing them on the floor, backwards, leaning against the wall.
The peace that he felt was short-lived. At first, he felt relieved, at least I don’t have to see myself at every turn. Yet, there was something in the back of his mind trying to convince him to uncover the mirrors. He had become accustomed to the placement of the mirrors but, even so, they always made him feel unsettled, as if he was being constantly watched.
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The doorbell rang, and as Dylan opened the door he was met with the familiar faces of Liam, Elliot, and Jillian.
“Hey guys! Come inside” Dylan said, gesturing for them all to follow him inside.
As his friends walked in they all couldn’t help but notice the covered mirrors that littered the wall. With a wave of confusion and discomfort they began to settle into Dylan’s living room.
“It’s so great to finally have you guys over. Trying to get settled into the new house and new job have taken what feels like forever but I’m glad you guys could make it.”
Both Liam and Elliot looked to Jillian, expecting for her to voice what they were all thinking.
“It’s great to see you too, the place looks so good. If you don’t mind me asking though, what’s with all of the sheets covering the mirrors?”
“The place just seemed a little claustrophobic with all of the mirrors so I figured it would be best.”
“Why didn’t you just put them away somewhere or just get rid of them if you have no intention of using them.”
“No.” Dylan said, nearly shouting at the notion of removing the mirrors.
“I know that all of the sheets might not look the best but, I can’t get rid of them.”
That thought resonated throughout Dylan’s head, I can’t get rid of them, but why? He could get rid of them but, for some reason it felt as though there was something holding him back. He considered following his friend’s advice and simply put the mirrors either in storage or on the curb but he knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to do it. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about the mirrors but, even so, there was this unspoken force that compelled him to hold onto the mirror.
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Dylan’s eyes slowly began to open as he woke up. What happened last night? He didn’t remember last night clearly, he remembered his friends coming over but he didn’t remember them leaving. How did I get into bed? As he glanced around the room everything looked normal, just as it should have, except nothing felt normal. That when he started to hear it, a quiet murmur, a hushed whisper, so miniscule that he wasn’t sure if it was real. It gradually grew louder, as he tried to tell where the sounds were coming from he landed on the last place he wanted to look. Ultimately, he landed on the mirror that was hung on the wall of his bedroom, covered by a sheet. He got out of bed and walked closer to the mirror and there was no question where the sound was coming from. With a shaky hand, Dylan hesitantly reached out and slowly pulled the blanket aside. He saw himself smiling wide. The only problem being, Dylan wasn’t smiling.
“Hello,” said Dylan’s reflection in the mirror as he chuckled at the horror on his face.
“Who are you?”
“Well, I’m you. At least the otherworld version of you, call me Daniel.”
This is a nightmare, a really, really bad nightmare. This cannot be real. Seeing that Dylan is frozen in shock, Daniel says, “Glad to see you’ve finally uncovered me, it took long enough. I thought I was going to have to borrow your body again.”
“Borrow my body? What are you talking about?
“You know what I’m talking about, everything I do while I’m in your body you are aware of. Dylan, why do you think you never brought these mirrors downstairs? Storing the mirrors downstairs would have been much easier than covering all of them up or taking them off the wall. What do you think you’re going to find down there? Or should I say who?”
Dylan couldn’t make sense of what Daniel was trying to say. However, as he is speaking, Dylan begins to get flashbacks of vague memories that do not feel like his own.
Dylan retorts, “These mirrors are antiques, I couldn’t risk dropping them down the stairs.”
With a condescending tone Daniel replies, “Well, this mirror is small so, if you don’t want to
see me then take it downstairs.”
It was as if something in his mind was urging him to leave the mirror where it was, or at the very least, not take it downstairs, but he couldn’t stop himself. Dylan picked the mirror up off the wall and headed downstairs and began to descend. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he flicked on the light switch and as he looked around, all he saw was bodies. He scanned the floor and saw three of his best friends all laying dead on the floor. He nearly collapsed at the sight and in the process he dropped the mirror.
The mirror doesn’t break on impact and instead is cushioned by the grey rug on the floor. Dylan is suddenly hit with a wave of memories of the murder of each of his friends by his own hands.
“Do you finally remember?”
Dylan quickly turns his anger on Daniel, “You did this, not me!”
“Maybe I did, but you could have stopped me. It was your weak mind that allowed me to venture into your world. You could have prevented their deaths. You were so pitiful that you weren’t able to.”
Immediately following Daniel’s words, Dylan walked over to a shelf and grabbed a hammer out of an old toolbox. He walked back to Daniel and held the hammer high, before bringing it down on the mirror. This is what you deserve for killing my friends.
In this process of his quick actions, Dylan didn’t realize how Daniel resumed control of his body mere moments before the shatter of the glass.
“A reflection can only cross into this world in moments of danger. So, thanks to you Dylan, your fear gave me the chance I needed. Your body is mine now, forever,” Daniel said.
As he gazed at the shards of the shattered mirror scattered across the floor, each jagged piece reminded him of the glass that had once held him captive—now reflecting nothing but freedom.