Grandmother's Mirror

With this spontaneous and total knowledge, she glanced over his shoulder at the mirror, then at him, and grinned widely. He has never forgotten that. At times when he walks passed the mirror in the hall, he catches a glimpse of her dying grin in the tilted glass. The hallway holds an eerie quiet and the middle room to the left stands empty and locked.

Alex could no longer stay there. He turned and ran down the stairs. It had only been two days since his grandmother passed. Things were heavily tainted with death in the air. Those around him were still wearing black, and red-eyed. They walked around in a daze. As if he weren't there. He sat on the couch watching everyone and then went out on the lawn. He ran from one side of the fence. Then to the other. Feeling his youth. He took another run across. Half way there, he noticed a cracked slab in the fence. It was too much temptation and he crawled underneath. He felt a bolt of energy go through him. He ran and ran some more. He looked down at his feet and saw pavement. A loud rumble was approaching to his right. He looked and froze in his step. A frightened man sitting high above the ground was in a sheer panic slamming his breaks.

Alex awoke in a twighlight haze. The bed he lay on was his own in his room. He felt the pain in his legs rise up to his back. But somehow he knew he could walk anyway. He got up and walked around trying to find the door. But he was disoriented. The room was growing dark as he left the area of his bed. Ahead through the darkness was a small glittering light. Walking towards it, Alex felt terror well up inside him. A cherry wood frame, finely etched with swirls and loops, began to take shape as he walked closer. He stepped up to the glass and peered through. And on the other side was a delicately embroidered carpeted hallway with a downward staircase at it's end. At the side wall, the middle room's door slowly crept open. Alex's heart pounded as he beheld his grandmother emerge from behind the door. He backed slowly away from the glass. The ground beneath him was no longer solid. It had turned to liquid glue. As his steps became close to impossible to take, he stared ahead as his grandmother walked effortlessly through the glass and toward him. And as she came closer, out of the shadows, Alex recognized what he saw. The last moment of communication they'd had. Knowing what she knew. Knowing what she'd hidden so well from everyone. Insanity. She approached him. Slowly. Delibrately. Grinning.