Chapter One: The Broken Mirror
Before I begin this story, I feel the need to talk a little bit about… antique stores. Laugh if you will, but I think you ought to know a little something about them. They are, more often then not, full of junk. Most are not really antiques at all, just items dusty enough to give a ghost an asthma attack. But sometimes, if only by accident, something really special comes into an antique shop. Something truly old, otherworldly… magical, even. I recieved one of these items at least once. It was a piece of bamboo in a pot shaped like a panda. The bamboo died but the pot remains. I believe that each and every day this pot steals a little bit of my soul, and some day it will take over my entire being and then take over the United Kingdom. You can always tell these 'mystical' items by the tingling sensation that runs through your spine as you pass them… This story begins with one-such feeling…
"You're not seriously buying that are you? It's ugly, dirty, and cracked of all things!" Delilah stood at the counter of the old, dusty antique shop. She thoroughly hated everything about it, especially its smell, which she could only compare to an old woman's moldy attic. Due to this she was in an amazingly bad mood, and was willing to snap at everyone and everything. Her best friend, Alex, just happened to be her newest target.
Alex let out a great sigh, running a hand through the loose curls of blonde hair that danced around his shoulders. He held out the mirror and frowned. "I like it. It's a real, old looking-glass." He held it at arms length and smiled at his own reflection. The mirror was average-looking really. The silver had long since acquired a dull blackness to it; the filigree embroidery around the mirror was worn to the point of non-existence, and a deep crack gouged the glass completely through diagonally. Still, for some reason, he liked it very much. Although it was not something he had previously liked nor collected he still felt it must be obtained at all costs. So he pointedly ignored his friend and plucked it on the counter, pulling out his wallet while a kind-looking elder lady carefully wrapped the object in sheets of paper.
And so the two wandered out of the shop and back to their neighborhood. The cool air and evening sun, which was presently bleeding behind the landscape, seemed to ease Delilah's mood greatly and she moved cheerfully about, playfully wrapping her fingers in Alex's hair and tugging when he seemed to be daydreaming. He dropped her off at her house with the promise to pick her up tomorrow morning to shop somewhere she'd like.
Hurrying to his own house, Alex weaved into the kitchen to give his mother a hasty greeting and a kiss. Then, with a strange feeling in his heart as if he were horribly late for some appointment, he clambered up the stairs and into his room. He threw himself onto his bed and began the slow unwrapping of the looking-glass, treating it was the most careful of attention despite the fact it could hardly get any worse.
He carefully propped up the mirror and for a shocking moment it seemed to absorb all light in the room and flash with the brightest intensity. Alex shook his head, assuring himself it was merely a strange reflection of the light. And quickly the uncomfortable binding feeling faded and he found himself rather bored looking at the mirror. So, he pulled himself away from the mirror and left the room, eager for a cup of tea. Perhaps chamomile, if it was available… With honey, and perhaps a shaving of cinnamon… And just that quickly the mirror was all but forgotten…
But soon, oh so very soon, the mirror would not only be remembered a supremely harsh way, but the mirror would soon swallow his whole world and throw him into one of his own. And I mean that very literally.
End of Chapter One
Thanks to everyone who wasted minutes of their life on my story. If you have comments or corrections, please give it a review? Don't make me do the puppy-eyes. I swear I will.