Day forty-two
I made a new friend today. Well, last night. His name is Matt and he lives in my mirror. He was really quiet but he was nice. I hope we can be friends longer.
- Matthieu
...
I stiffened. I wanted to vomit but nothing came. My mind was racing yet it was blank. He talked to his reflection just as I did.
I realized then that that was my first mistake. That by talking to it, I had started something terrible.
I looked over and found my reflection just the same.
...
Day fifty-two
Papa has been worried about me. I haven't really slept much lately. At night, Matt is always tapping until I get up to talk to him. Sometimes we talk until I fall asleep, then Papa has to wake me up for school. I'm not really making friends at school. I feel too tired and fall asleep in class sometimes. Maybe I should stop talking to Matt all the time.
-Matthieu
...
Day sixty-four
I'm sad today. Matt got hurt and he looked so scared. He kept telling me to let him through but I didn't know what he was talking about. He started crying and I didn't know what to do. I started crying too until Papa came in. He didn't understand why I was crying even after I told him. I hope Matt was okay.
-Matthieu
...
Day sixty-eight
Bella is worried about me. I heard her talking to Papa. She said I was doing so much better until something happened. I don't think she believes me when I tell her about Matt. He's real though. He knocks on my mirror every night. Sometimes I see him during the day too but he doesn't talk.
-Matthieu
...
As the days went by, I found myself always at company. I was never alone at the house and one of my brother's always dropped me off at school while Dylan picked me up.
Kiku was also worried. I told him I was fine, that I was simply back on the medication due to nightmares and he only nodded. He's such a good friend, I only hope nothing happens to him.
I also found myself sleeping in brother's rooms more often. It was strange for someone as old as I to sleep with my elder brothers but I found that the tapping wouldn't happen as often.
I slept more and that was good. Bella even noted me down for improvement but something bothered me. The notebook. I read as often as I could but everytime I did, I realized that this boy was in particularly close to the other being.
He talked to him every night. He even began to note things about the other's life. He often noted that the other being was in danger more than a handful of times.
He says so many times that he wants to help him but he can't. That he can't open the mirror. How does one open it? Should it be opened? I wondered if Oliver was in danger too.
I wondered if the Matt I had seen was really just the reflection. Had Matthieu actually managed to open this gate? If this was true, then where was he?
The real Matthieu. The sweet innocent boy. Did he even exist anymore? The questions were endless and only one person knew. That person was Matt.
...
My name is Matthieu Williams. I haven't written in this journal for a long time. I don't think I will anymore. The banging won't stop. I'm crying right now, he's so scared. I want to help him but I can't, I don't know how.
They're going to get him if I don't help him. I don't want to watch, I'm scared. I'm hiding beneath my blanket and I want my Papa. I haven't seen him in three days, I just locked myself inside.
I'm so sorry Papa. I miss you. I'm sorry I was so mean to you, I was just scared.
Please make it stop. It sounds like the mirror is going to break. Please help hi
...
I stared at the page confused. The rest of the page was torn off. I picked at the ripped corner before turning the page.
The next entry sent chills down my spine. The frantic writing made me want to curl up and hide. Aaron must have noticed me pale and trembling because he immediately turned off the stove and came to me.
I remember him asking me something but no sound came from his mouth. Everything was silent except for a light tapping, coming from the back of my mind.
I turned the pages and found no other entry after that. No other writing, no drawing, nothing. I turned back to the frantic writing. I took it all in.
The writing was sloppy, like from someone who didn't write often, very different from Matthieu.
The page was torn from being stabbed too hard by the pen and there were dirt marks on it. I felt tears come to my eyes and Aaron was now prying my grip off the notebook. He set aside and hugged me as I began to cry.
I didn't know how I felt. I didn't know if I felt sadness or fear. Maybe both. But everything about that last entry was definitely not Matthieu.
...
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry didn't know what to do.
I had to do it. I'm sorry. I had to get out. I didn't want to push him.
I'm sorry.