The Mirrors of Dorothy May
Fear the reflections
She had beauty, that was like a mirror. Perfect, shiny, and reflective of everyone's joy. But like a mirror's glass, it was sharp, like it could cut, make you bleed. Maybe it was in her eyes.
And she never had any mirrors. Not anywhere in her mansion. People noticed that in her Great Gatsby-like parties. So I heard. And that’s what I used to think.
I lived a fair walk away in the city, but one day I got an invite.
Dear Wendy Wilds,
I would very much like to invite you to my party at my home. It’s going to be a memorable time.
Please come in attire most reflective of your loveliness,
Dorothy May.
I wore a dress. Black. It usually does the trick.
“So how do you know the wonderful Dorothy?” a partygoer asked.
“I don’t,” I said, clicking my camera again.
“That’s a big camera.”
“Is it?”
I went on further into the colourful crowd. Parties aren’t my thing.
I leant that the gossip from my friend was correct as I noticed the blank walls.
Someone was looking over the top floor bannister I was near to the bottom floor, with mystery glinting in their perfect glass-like eyes.
“That’s a nice camera,” she said.
“Thanks. Shouldn’t you be enjoying the party?” I said to Dorothy.
“Darling, I am the party.”
My lips slightly curled. “Do you mind if I? — ”
She nodded.
I raised my camera and clicked.
That night, disappointedly alone in my home, I looked back at my photos. There was a good one at the top of the stair and the party-goers below. But I could have sworn Dorothy was meant to be there.
“Maybe she’s a vampire.”
“Oh shut it, Steve,” I said on the phone at home the next day, then laughed. “My camera’s probably got faulty.”
“Vampire sounds more plausible.”
“That’s stupid.”
“You always have the most up to date cameras, Wendy.”
“True.”
“That settles it. You're just going to have to go all Van Helsing on her butt.”
I went to her house late at night. I was bored and knew she wouldn't mind as her house is always open late for parties, apart from Saturday.
It was Saturday. But the lights were on that day.
At the door, I doubted whether I should go inside.
“Funny thing happened with this picture I took,” I said, then shook my head. “You know dear, you are so gorgeous you don’t come up on digital!”
I put my hand out as if I was placing it on her shoulder and caught the door and it creaked open. That was odd. Maybe someone had broken in, and she was in trouble!
I wandered in, a hero to the rescue.
It was cold and even larger now it was empty of people.
Then I heard the whimpering. My heart sank thinking it was Dorothy, I followed the polished floor that reflected yellow from the candelabra above to a door that had stairs leading downwards, into the dark.
Mirrors. A corridor with mirrors, person-sized, going down. I walked past them, and each one didn’t have my reflection. It had a screaming person inside.
“This is clever.”
“Is it?”
I jumped in my skin.
“Yeah. Nice tricks. Digital. Projectors on glass right?” I gave a strained chuckle.
Silence.
“Right?” I reached for my camera in my jacket pocket, wishing it was more gun-shaped.
“What do you think of my looks?”
“Well, I — ”
“Do you know that I am beautiful?”
I blinked. “Yes.”
“How beautiful?”
“Like… very.”
“Hmmmph,” She said. She walked towards me and I walked backwards, my heart beating fast and my hands getting slippy.
“And do you desire my beauty?”
I said nothing.
“Do you desire…?”
“Yes.”
I walked past mirror after mirror, the reflections within seemingly pleading at the glass.
“Do you know how I maintain that beauty?”
“Err… diet and exercise?”
“Look behind you.”
I turned and saw a mirror.
“There’s no… there's no reflection.”
“There will be.”
And she pushed me into the mirror.
And that’s where you found me. I’ve been here for quite a while. It gives you time to reflect, don’t you think? Smile for the camera.
