[ WP ] You check yourself out in the full length mirror before going to bed . You bend down to untie your shoes . As you are nearly finished , you see with your peripheral vision your reflection stand up seconds before you do .

( First attempt to write in a long time, even though I frequently read and submit prompts. Be nice! ) 
 
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 Keys out. Door unlocked. Step inside, shut door, flip light switch. Slide lock back in place. Drop keys on the counter. Microwave clock emits a greenish 2:19 glow in the kitchen. I sigh and open the fridge. The light is temporarily blinding. Scan the contents with a lingering stare for a few seconds until I turn away and shut the door and let the kitchen embrace darkness once again. Too tired to eat something despite the rumbling in my stomach. Dinner was eight hours ago. Feel my way along the wall into my bedroom. Flip the light switch. Did I forget the light by the door? I'll get it in the morning. Stare in the mirror and drink in my human condition. Baggy eyelids crowned with eyes staring back at me, searching for an answer. Sad, forlorn, hopeless. Do this every night. Asking myself if who I am is who I want to be. Wishing the man in the mirror would wake up to be something more. I thought he could be so much more. I stoop down to remove my shoes. I wish my soul would feel as free as my feet are about to be. My stiff fingers gingerly untie the knots so strongly tightened twelve hours ago. That's one. I can feel the tension slowly releasing euphoria down into my toes. Next shoe. Ah that's better. Unexpected movement catches my eye right before I stand. My God. What is happening? My reflection or what was my reflection stands up as I fall backwards. Scuttling backwards. Eyes locked with my reflect- with *it*. The eyes are different now. Something still sad, but pitying. Am I hallucinating? It speaks my name. I say nothing. It repeats. Y-y-yeah, I say. *Why are n't you more*, it asks. It has my voice, I realize. I'm silent. *You trapped me in this mirror*. I do n't know what it's talking about. *That night after that blown interview*. Does it read minds? *No, I am you, I know your thoughts*. I'm definitely hallucinating. *You stood in front of this mirror and thought about all you wanted to be and you gave it up. You trapped your hope and your desires and your dreams in this safe place and became comfortable to feel safe*. But at least I'm not being rejected anymore, I retort. I sit up a little. Feeling less apprehensive. I do n't have it in me. My dreams are bigger than I can handle. I overstretched. *You lost your determination. Now, it's killing us. * Great, now I'm schizo. *I'm not going to let you do this to us anymore. I want to live and thrive. Every night you look into this mirror and you kill us a little more. * I stand up. Indignant. I keep us comfortable, I say. I keep us fed and warm and at least there's some money in the bank and our father is n't making pointed remarks about how we're not grounded in the real world. I take a deep breath. My pulse is pounding. I feel lightheaded and dizzy. *You've given up hope, but I'm not willing to die just yet. * The room begins to spin a little. I stumble forward against the mirror and brace myself against it with one hand. Cold sweat forms on my forehead. What's happening? My reflection comes closer to the barrier separating the reflecting world and his. He puts his hand against mine. I feel warmth instead of a cold surface. Want to recoil, but frozen. His hand breaches the barrier and tilts my clammy chin up so my eyes meet his. *Thanks for the overhead. It'll serve nicely while I get out there and make out of us what we were meant to be. * Sudden shock, like a great fall. But I appear to have moved... no, that ca n't be right. I feel stuck. The reflection steps back and I step back. It raises a hand and I follow suit. I realize that I am the reflection now. I look into his eyes. Helpless, pleading. *Goodbye, * it says. *You're of no further use to me. * He lets me watch as he turns around and walks to the doorframe. I know I'll cease to exist as soon as he flips the light off and leaves the room, shutting out even the infrared reflection of my body. Now not my body. I am the reflection. He stares knowingly, coldly, into my eyes before he flips the light out. My thoughts race in the final moment. I must get out of here. I've never been so desperately intent on living until I can no longer.
