A Mirrored Past

Chapter One: Reliving

Paige Welling walked down the hallway of a dimly lit building. She stopped in front of a grungy looking door. Peeling letters in the middle of it spelled out Dr. James Miller, Psychiatrics. She looked down at the scrap of paper in her hand. Yes, this was the right room. In a nervous gesture, very reluctant to knock, she shifted her weight onto her left leg. Finally, she got up the nerve and lightly knocked on the translucent glass above the name. The door opened to reveal a slightly balding middle aged man.

"Well, hello Miss Welling. Come in, come in," he said in a voice of forced cheerfulness. Paige could tell, looking into his tired, gray eyes, that he would rather not be here meeting with her right now. 'So that makes two of us,' she thought. "Make yourself at home," he said  in the same mocked tone.

She sat down in the large squashy chair across from his desk which he settled himself in back of. "So tellme, what has been bothering you." She did not reply. This was a complete stranger; she was not about to tell him anything personal. "That's all right…take your time," he said as if he had nothing better to do than sit here staring at her

She thought back to why she was here in the first place. It had happened last night.. She was in her bed lying on her stomach reading a book at around 12:00 (she couldn't fall asleep) when she heard what sounded like a flute being played very far off. Concluding that she had imagined it, she thought nothing of it and went back to reading. About five minutes later, she heard it again, but this time it sounded much louder and nearer. She jumped up, positive that is was not merely a figment of her imagination this time. Hesitantly, she walked into the room adjacent to her own and switched on the light.

Her eyes immediately fell on the mirror. This was usually a reflex. There was something unnerving to her about mirrors. She had heard so many frightening stories about them and was always terrified that she would see something in one that was not supposed to be there. She knew that it was kind of childish, but she just couldn't get over that fear. That was why she would never oblige to having a mirror placed in her room.

However, this was only half of the reason that she focused on the mirror. Her stomach dropped dramatically in fear. She didn't see herself in the mirror. In fact, it didn't seem to be a mirror anymore, but a whirlwind of color. Just then, she had an urge to touch it. She felt that nothing could prevent her from walking toward it and placing her hand in the very center. Just as she did so, she was whisked off of ther feet and swirling through time and space until it all ceased as suddently as it had started. Paige felt herself fall onto a fairly hard surface.

She opened her eyes (she had had them closed through this whole ordeal) and  saw that she had fallen onto a field of grass overlooked by  a magnificent castle with numerous turrets and towers. She heard the faint sound of hooves behind her and turned around just in time to see a white stallion mounted by a knight in armor galloping toward her. Terrified, she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the blow, but just before it should have came, she felt herself fall onto a soft surface. She opened her eyes and saw her own reflection staring back at her in the mirror in her own house again. Had it been her imagination? It had seemed so real.

Deeply perplexed, she headed back into her room. She had not been able to sleep all that night. Seeing the bags under her eyes, her mother had given her a slip of  paper with Dr. Miller's name and address, obviously thinking that she was troubled.

Paige jolted herself back to the present, staring into the doctor's eyes which told her nonverbally that he was anticipating her answer. "Nightmares- I've been having nightmares," she finally said.

"Well, those are very curable," her replied, writing her a prescription, "Here you go."

She took the prescription and quickly left his office. He wouldn't have believed her even if she did tell the truth. No one would believe her.