In the Mirror

Normally, you sleep soundly, but the thunderstorm raging outside is stirring you. You begin to doze, then another crash jolts you awake. This cycle lasts most of the night. 
You lay there, eyes open, looking at your room stretching out before you in oblong shadows. Your gaze moves from nameless object to object, until you reach your mirror, sitting adjacent to you across the room.
Suddenly, there is a flash of lightning, and the mirror flickers in its light. For a second, it reveals to you dozens of faces, silhouettes within its frame, mouths open and eyes blackened. They stare out at you, their pupils fixed upon your face.
Then it is done. Are you sure of what you have seen? Unsettled, you don’t sleep for the rest of the evening. The next morning, you remove the mirror from your wall and toss it in the trash. It didn’t matter if the vision you had seen was of truth or falsehood, you wanted to be rid of that mirror. In fact, you scrap every mirror in your house.
Weeks pass and the event of that night falls into passive memory. You are spending the day at a friend’s house and you need to use the bathroom. While you are in there, the faucet starts to run without you touching it. Taken aback by this, you do not yet act, trying to reason with the paranoia in your mind. 
The water starts to steam, and a skin of moisture covers the mirror up above. You’re watching intently as words form: “Please return the mirrors. We miss watching you sleep at night.”
Category:Historical Archive
Category:Mirrors
Category:Beings
Category:Micropasta