Reflection: The Ancient One

A pull followed by a twist.  The familiar motion is done without any conscious thought.  Hot water quickly envelops me, forming a soothing cocoon from which I never truly wish to emerge.  And yet, there are things that must be done.  Eventually, I pry myself free and lazily dry off before approaching the mirror that hangs behind the sink.  A quick swipe reveals my reflection.

I tried to gasp, but remained silent, bound in fear.

Within the mirror resides a glowing pair of eyes staring back at me.  A desire lies within their gaze; insatiable hunger, a want for more, no matter how many succulent courses are piled onto its plate.  I am merely prey within its judgemental gaze.  A quarry pursued to the edge of reality simply to satisfy some instinctual need to consume.  Attempts to placate it, brings further, harsher demands.  The void can never be satisfied, not until every last drop of the watering hole has dried.  It lurks within, waiting for more.

As I look deeper into the mirrors' great depths, what I realize to be true, unnerves me more than the creature displayed prior.  A different kind of horror returns my stare.  I look very little like the image that inhabits my mind.  Objects tangentially spring forth into my mind: a well worn jacket, tattered with frayed edges and faded colors, a door hinge that creaks if opened imperfectly, and finally a grandfather clock slowly winding down.  No amount of repair will return them to their former glory.  Each alone is hard enough to accept, let alone the surmounting culmination.  Try as I might, I can't help but give in from time to time.  Every drop of disparagement released summons forth the awaiting horror, slowly dragging itself closer as it gradually blends into reality.