SELF-REFLECTION

SELF‑REFLECTION

Susan feels like she is on top of the world. The meeting went flawlessly, and she finally got the respect she deserves, long overdue. Nothing could bring her down. In the past, the boys in the office had never taken her seriously. They treated her like an errand girl, sending her for coffee, handing her the tasks no one else wanted, anything to keep her in the background. But after today, that would change.

The thrill of the meeting still buzzed in her chest as she unlocked the door and entered her three-room apartment. She started to dance, filled with self‑confidence. She felt untouchable for a moment. But it wouldn’t last long. The bathroom door stood wide open, and she accidentally caught sight of herself in the mirror. The eyes looking back at her were not hers. They studied her, unblinking. Susan stopped moving and stared back. The girl in the mirror beckoned her to come closer, a slow curl of her fingers that didn’t match Susan’s own stillness. But she didn’t want to. Instead, she tried to ignore her.

Then the pounding began. So hard that Susan was afraid the glass would shatter. Her heart skipped a beat. The sound crawled under her skin. But mostly she got angry. She’s trying to steal my thunder. “Shut up! Go away!” she said as she approached the mirror. “I need to shower before my company arrives.”

Susan stepped into the bathroom, dropping her clothes on the floor. She could see how the girl who looked like her watched her upside down, slowly nodding her head. It irritated her. Even though she had been there forever, Susan didn’t want her there anymore. And over the last year, that feeling has only grown stronger.

The self‑reflection always made her feel small, insecure. Nothing was ever good enough for her. She was constantly putting her down. And today, Susan simply couldn’t take it.

She moved closer to the sink. With her left hand she took some liquid soap and smeared it across the glass. She stepped back. Good — she could no longer see her. For a moment, the silence felt like victory.

Susan went into the shower, letting the hot water wash away all the negative feelings from her mind. But as soon as she turned off the water, she could hear her whispering. It was suggestive, urging her to listen. But Susan knew it was dangerous; it always led to long blackouts and lost time. To keep the voice out, she started to sing, loud and clear, while she wrapped her body in a fluffy pink towel. She stepped over the pile of clothes and left the bathroom.

On her way to the closet, Susan glanced at the kitchen clock. Only ten minutes left before he arrives. She had better hurry. Max was the kind of man who didn’t like to wait. She put on her yellow dress with red strawberries on it. She applied her makeup using only the tiny mirror in her powder box. She gently brushed her hair before tying it into a ponytail. Susan took a final look at the bed. Yes, she was ready. Seconds later, the doorbell rang. Susan smiled. It had been so long since she felt this free.

Max didn’t wait for her to open. He simply let himself in, as usual. He looked good, and he knew it. His shirt was half‑buttoned — a deliberate kind of carelessness he knew women found irresistible. Susan was definitely not the only one he came to visit. Max carried himself with the easy confidence of someone who moved through the world assuming everyone would welcome him. Max hadn’t brought her anything. He never did. He just gave her that look — the one he knew worked — and spoke. “You look like a schoolgirl in that dress,” he said with a teasing smile. “Take it off.” He stepped closer and pulled the elastic from her ponytail, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. “You know I want your hair down.”

Susan — the other Susan — was irritated. She couldn’t see them, only hear them in the hallway. The mirror had started to form small cracks, and she was desperately trying to see through them. She pressed her face closer to the glass, hoping the cracks would shift just enough to give her a glimpse of what’s going on. They never did. They only distorted everything, as if mocking her.

Suddenly they both passed her, heading for the bedroom. Her boyfriend laughed, chasing her double. She called out for his attention, but of course Max didn’t notice. A minute later she heard the bedroom door close. Then a loud scream. Then silence.

All afternoon she pleaded with her self-reflection, as she called her, not to do it. But this time she didn’t listen. It was the first time her reflection had ignored her completely, and the realization settled in her like a cold weight. Something between them had changed. In the past they had always found a way to coexist. She was the quiet one, unsure of herself. Too nice, to the point where people took advantage of her. The other one was her opposite. Strong. Fearless. Doing whatever she pleased. And somehow, that balance had always worked.

But lately she had become more selfish, unwilling to share the time. Breaking the rules, her personality shifted. She was starting to become something darker. There had been signs, small shifts she had chosen to overlook. A sharper tone. A lingering stare. A sense of impatience gathering on the other side.

In the middle of the thought, she heard someone running across the floor. And suddenly she stood in front of her. Naked, with drops of blood scattered across her body. Her eyes were wild. Unhinged. Behind the glass, Susan was frozen in shock.

She washed the mirror clean. Then she stroked her reflection’s cheek through the glass. She opened her mouth and spoke. “Thank you for letting me out. But I don’t need your sorry, pathetic personality anymore.”

Then she raised her hand and smashed the mirror.