It’s already time for the last prompt of this month! I may give you a treat and do one more, since there is on more Wednesday this month, but I haven’t decided yet. You will just have to wait and see.
I was 10 when I heard it the first time. I was so terrified that I didn’t sleep in my room for a week. My mother kept insisting that I was hearing things, nothing was knocking on my mirror. She even slept in the room with me one night and we heard a knock, but it came from the window. My mother laughed and told me I was being a silly child.
I didn’t hear it again until I was 16. I was getting ready for my birthday party. I was looking in the mirror when it happened this time. I even saw the mirror distort in the area where the knock sounded from. I ran from my room and went to my party. I wasn’t going to ruin the party my mother had spent so much time and money on. After the party I told her. She simply shook her head and told me I wouldn’t start that again.
It was a year before I heard it again. Another birthday, only, this year was different. My mother passed away only a few months before. I was now living with my grandmother, my dad had died in the war and I was an only child. My grandmother was strict and I didn’t see her much, but it didn’t matter to me. I would be out of her house soon enough. Thanks to my mother’s frugality, I had enough money to go to whatever college I wanted.
I was looking in the mirror again, when I heard the knock once more. My first reaction was to run and tell my mother, but she was no longer there. I couldn’t tell my grandmother, the crazy bat would have sent me away. Thinking back, that probably would have been better anyways. I told my best friend about the knock. She let me stay at her house the following night. I was sure I was safe at her house. At least I thought it was, until the dead of night when a knock came from her mirror.
I sat up in the bed and stared at the mirror, waiting for it to happen again. My friend woke up and stared at me. She asked what I was staring at and I told her of the knock. She laughed, got out of bed, and knocked back. In all the years I had dealt with the knocking I had never thought to knock back. I wasn’t brave enough to knock back. Nothing happened. My friend told me everything was okay and to go back to sleep. She did, I didn’t.
My friend’s steady breathing filled the quiet room. I heard the knock again. It matched the knock my friend had used. Five rapid taps, a pause, and two more. My heart stopped. I threw a blanket over the mirror and went back to sleep.
Another year later, I was getting ready for college. I was finally going to be free from my horrid grandmother. She had made my life a nightmare. I was finally free. I packed what little belonged to me. I wasn’t allowed to bring a lot of things when I moved in with grandmother, just some clothes and very few personal items. I hated her for getting rid of everything that reminded her of my mother. All I had left of my mother’s was a bracelet and a diamond ring. Also, a few picture albums. I looked through them often.
I didn’t live in a dorm. My mother had put back enough money for me to rent an apartment near campus. When she was alive she would tell me of the horrible experience she had from staying in a dorm and never wanted me to go through that as well. I was grateful to have my own place, but it got a little lonely.
A month after moving in, the knock started again. It was the same five rapid taps followed by two more after a short pause. It was almost as if the thing in the mirror had learned a new knock. Being alone, with no one to run to, I knocked back. That was when I realized, there was always something on the other side of the mirror.
I had felt so alone since my mother had passed away. I was excited that I finally had something to talk to, to confide in again. I quickly learned Morse code and the mirror seemed to know it as well. I would sit up for hours every night, speaking to this thing in the mirror. I was so happy to finally have the ability to talk to the thing that had scared me most of my life. When my friend visited me one weekend I wanted to show her.
I knocked on the mirror, to tell the thing hello. And it knocked back. I smiled and looked to my friend. I was afraid the thing in the mirror would be shy and not knock back, but it did.
“Did you hear it?”
“Just you knocking.” My friend said. I looked at her confused. I knocked on the mirror and told the thing in the mirror to say hello again. It did. But my friend shook her head and frowned. “I think you need to see a doctor.”
I shook my head. I didn’t need to see a doctor. She did, she needed to get her ears checked. The knock was as clear as day. That night, while she slept, I spoke to the thing in the mirror. I told it sorry for my friend’s inability to hear. It said it was not worried, that it would always be there for me.
The next morning my friend drove me to a doctor. Soon after, I was put into a mental institution. No one else could hear the knock on the mirror. But true to its word, the thing never left me. It followed me through the facility, knocking jokes to me and telling me I was going to be okay. I was okay, as long as the thing stayed with me. I would only talk to it when no one was around. I wanted to get back to my life, but they wouldn’t let me out.
I stopped talking to the thing. I told it I couldn’t talk right now, because they were not letting me go. I told it I had to stop just until I could get out. I wanted to get back to the normal life my mother had planned for me. I was released a month later and I returned back to school. But the thing stopped talking to me. No matter how hard I tried, it wouldn’t come back. I told it sorry, explained over and over again why I had to ignore it for a while, but it wouldn’t come back. I begged and pleaded, but it wouldn’t come back. I was alone in the world again.
I started losing sleep, I would sit up all night going between rooms with mirrors. Knocking on each mirror as I passed it. I started skipping classes, and a few professors dropped me from their class. Nothing mattered anymore. I just wanted the thing to come back.
It wasn’t long before I was back at the hospital, shouting at all the doctors that they made the thing go away. They sedated me, knocked me out cold. When I woke up I was back in a familiar room. It was the room I had called home for a month, where the thing stopped talking to me. A knock came from the mirror and I smiled. It was back. I knew it would come back. I was never leaving it behind again, never ignoring it again.
“Your daughter thinks there is something in the mirror.” The doctor told the girl’s mother. “Has anything happened in her past that may cause her mental state?”
“She saw her father kill himself.” Her mother said, wiping another tear from her eyes. “What is she saying to the mirrors?”
“Nothing.” The doctor replied. “It’s the same knocks over and over again.”
“She said it was Morse code.”
“It’s non-sense. We sent a recording of her knocks to a specialist. She just knocks random letters. There is no purpose to them.”
“Why would she think I am dead?”
“Because you always told her there was nothing knocking. You were the only thing holding her to the reality of the matter.”
“Will she get better?”
“She has been in here since she was 17, it has been 10 years.” The doctor shook his head. “We don’t know how to reach her. Now she refuses to speak to anyone, just knocking on the mirror all hours of the day.” She is lost.
I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think.