[ WP ] As you gaze into the mirror , you see a different person staring back at you .

Henry looked at himself in the mirror. His familiar face stared back. His face looked fine, no paler than normal, his mouth seemed okay, his eyes did n't look any different to how they normally did. So why did he feel so ill? He felt like he had a mix of a hangover, a blocked nose, and tonsillitis, yet he had absolutely no visible symptoms. 
 
 His nose began to tickle, as he felt a sneeze coming. Quickly he reached for a tissue, catching his sneeze just in time. Then he looked back up and saw himself in the mirror again. Only there was no tissue. Henry began to look closer. Has his nose always been that crooked? Instinctively he reached out to touch himself. His reflection did n't. 
 
 `` What the...?'' he said confused. As the man in the reflection said nothing. 
 
 Henry turned around behind him. The bathroom door was still shut, He was still alone in the room. He turned again to the man in the mirror. It seemed like it had been facing Henry this whole time. 
 
 `` Who are you?'' he asked. 
 
 The person mouthed a reply. `` I'm you'' Henry read from the man's lips. 
 
 `` No you're not,'' Henry nervously replied. He was getting freaked out now. The layout of Henry's house made it impossible for their to be any way for someone to stand in secret behind this mirror. 
 
 `` I am you,'' the mirror responded, `` I am Harry.'' 
 
 Henry hesitated for a moment. This defied all rational thought. Reaching to the wall he lifted the mirror up, and looked behind it. Nothing but blue tiles and the two hooks that held the mirror against the wall. It was a small mirror, one which Henry had bought from a department store several years ago. He had no reason to suspect there was anything suspicious at all with the mirror. 
 
 Yet even now, holding it in his arms, in a different location, the man, Harry, still stood there. Despite now the reflection behind him being that of Henry's bathroom's ceiling, Harry still stood with his feet on the ground. Henry walked around the mirror, watching Harry rotate as he did. 
 
 `` Please listen,'' Harry mouthed once more. 
 
 `` Stop it,'' Henry said, `` This is a fever dream. I'm ill. This is n't real. It ca n't be. I wo n't hear this.'' With that Henry retreated from the bathroom, closing the door behind him. he ran to his kitchen. A cool drink. That would help him, he thought. Eagerly he grabbed a glass and began to fill it. 
 
 Harry was there, in the waters reflection. `` Please, just listen to me.'' 
 
 Henry threw the glass down the sink. He put the glass on the counter. He was freaked out now, and began to panic. He began to wobble on his legs, and felt that he had to sit down. Making his way to the table, he propped himself into one of the wooden chairs. For a moment he closed his eyes and caught his breath. It was a delusion, he thought to himself. He was sick. He should just go to bed. 
 
 Then he opened his eyes again. He looked around his living room. His glass table. There was Harry. His TV, Harry was sitting front and centre in the screen. His decorative crystal vase, Harry was in every single refraction of light. Every reflection, every remotely shiny surface, there was Harry, continuing to talk. 
 
 `` Please, I'm sorry,'' Harry said in the relfections, `` I just want my life back. I beg you.'' 
 
 Henry made his way for his bedroom. This was a horrible nightmare. His body ached, his brain especially, and this delusion was now making him feel extremely uncomfortable in his body. Henry just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to fall asleep and forget all about Harry, and this nonsense he was spouting. 
 
 Climbing back into bed Henry took one last look around. The reflections still contained Harry. He would not relent. 
 
 `` Please. I just want my life back,'' Harry continued, his eyes desperate, `` Just let me have my body back. Please.'' 
 
 Henry rolled over to his side. As he slowly relaxed he looked to a picture frame of his wedding day. There was his lovely wife, looking radiant. But Henry was transfixed on the fact that the groom was Harry.
