I lay in bed, waiting for the sun to rise, when I hear it again.
Tap tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap… tap tap. Tap tap… tap… tap.
Tap… Tap… . Tap.
It's the third time I've heard it tonight. The tapping on the glass seems to come whenever I'm about to fall asleep. It's like it knows…. whatever it is. I'm just assuming it's some kind of deranged woodpecker that thinks my window is a tree. I'm not sure if woodpeckers are nocturnal, but it's the only explanation I can think of for the random tapping.
I close my eyes and try to imagine what else could be causing the tapping. A swarm of bees all lined up that hit my window one after the other? Or maybe there's a cute boy standing in my front lawn with a handful of pebbles.
I thought of nine year old Jason Meyers sneaking out in the middle of the night to try and win the heart of his math tutor that's twice his age. Not that this would have been the first time.
My eyes fell shut for what felt like the tenth time tonight as my mind and body relaxed and I began to fall into a peaceful sleep.
Tap tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap… tap tap. Tap tap… tap… tap.
Tap… Tap… . Tap.
Dammit. I'm never going to get any sleep with that horrible tapping. It seemed louder than ever, the sound becoming much less hollow and much more determined, as though whatever was making the sound was desperate to be heard.
The tapping came again, this time slower, less frantic and more clear.
Tap tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap… tap tap. Tap tap… tap… tap.
Tap… Tap… . Tap.
I've heard it so many times tonight that each tap was familiar now. I could feel my index finger tapping along with it in the pattern that no longer seemed so random.
What is that?
What kind of woodpecker pecks in patterns? I guess it's not a woodpecker. But there's no way Jason Meyers has that many pebbles to throw.
The tapping repeated itself. I wasn't sure why it was coming more quickly now, since before there seemed to be gaps in between that lasted more than a few hours. But I listened more carefully this time.
Tap tap tap tap. Tap.
Wait. Maybe it wasn't just random tapping.
Short short short short. Short. Short long short short. Short long long short.
Break. Long long. Short.
I remembered back to my days in Girl Guides and all the dumb badges you had to earn. There was one on Morse code, and I remember learning the whole alphabet. But that was almost ten years ago. I could piece together a few of the letters, but not enough to clear up the message.
_ef _ _e
I had to be getting something wrong, since I couldn't think of any four letter word with EF in the middle. I reached over to my night stand and retrieved my phone and googled morse code and filled in the blanks.
Help me.
I looked up slowly towards my window, waiting for the tapping to come again. I could feel myself sliding further under my blankets until the bottom half of my face was covered.
My curtains were pulled closed, so I couldn't see the glass. This time, when the tapping came again, I heard that it wasn't coming from my window.
Short long short short. Long long long. Long long long. Long short long.
Break. Short long. Long.
Break. Long long. Short.
I tried my best to translate the message using the image I had pulled up on my phone.
Look at me.
My eyes slide over from my window to the frame that hung on the wall next to it. In my mirror, my reflection smiled back at me, but I hadn't moved from where I hid under the covers.
The girl who was me but wasn't me stood from her bed on the other side and walked towards the mirror. The wall that separated us. She lifted her hand to the glass and began to tap at the surface, giving off the same hollow noise as before.
Let me out.
I could feel myself begin to shiver. I slid further under the covers and tried to keep myself from screaming.
My reflection looked furious, as though she was expecting me to leap from my bed the moment I saw her and immediately free her from her prison. But I still didn't move.
I didn't think my own face could ever look so angry.
I watched as my double began to scream in rage. Or at least I assumed she was screaming, since I couldn't hear anything past the glass. She pounded her fists against the mirror, each time her fist connected with the glass there was a loud banging, and I was honestly surprised that the glass didn't shatter under her fists. She continued to yell in her fury, but I still did not move.
Finally the girl collapsed to her knees. Her head was bowed, her hands flat against the glass, and she began to shake, as though she were sobbing. Without looking up, her fingers tapped lightly on the surface.
Help me. Please.
I couldn't make myself move even if I wanted to. I felt frozen in place, huddled under my thin blanket like it could somehow shield me from the girl in the mirror who was me but wasn't me.
Whatever moment of calm there was passed quickly, and the girl in the mirror stood, pounding her fists against the barrier harder than ever. She shouted and yelled and began throwing her whole body against the glass. Each time her body hit the mirror I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, like I was the one doing the hitting.
I hadn't realized I was flinching, but I guess the other me did. She stopped, leaving the room in an eerie quiet, and smiled at me. She backed up towards the bed on her side of the mirror, and turned, walking to the left, disappearing from the mirror.
I wasn't sure what was weirder. Looking into a mirror and seeing your reflection and seeing yourself doing things you're not doing or looking into the mirror and not seeing yourself at all.
Other me came back from the side of my room with the closet and lifted something small and shiny in her hand. The small amount of moonlight seeping in through the curtains glinted against the metal of the pocket knife as she flicked the blade open. Her smile sharpened as she brought the tip of the blade to her finger experimentally, and cut.
"Ouch," I winced, and pulled my hand from under the covers to see the drop of red drip from my finger onto the sheet of my bed.
Oh no.
I pushed the covers aside and stood, rushing over to the mirror. Now it was my turn to pound my fists against the glass and scream. Though I don't think she could hear me. The girl on the other side only smiled and brought the blade to her wrist, cutting deeply from wrist to elbow.
I screamed, more from surprise than pain. I continued to pound my fists against the glass, but each hit only left the surface more and more red.
My head hurt, and it was getting hard to stand. The girl on the other side looked just as dizzy, though that didn't stop her from taking the knife in her other hand and cutting just as deeply into my right forearm.
The blood was everywhere. It stained the mirror, the floor, my clothes, my body.
She smiled and brought her finger to the glass again, resting her bloody forearm against the transparent surface. She tapped out one final message, her smile broadening as she did.
Sweet dreams.
The girl on the other side only laughed, and now, as I collapsed to the floor, I could finally hear her. I could finally hear the twisted version my own laugh. It was too loud, too shrieky, too delighted by the blood that now surrounded me.
The light of the rising sun slipping through my curtains dimmed around me. I closed my eyes, and even though I could still hear the tapping, I finally fell asleep.
So tell me what you guys think
And be honest ;)
Aye