Break a Mirror, Seven Years of Bad Luck

"Friday the 13th? How lame…" Briley said to himself. "That is nothing but a naïve hoax. Nothing bad ever happens on that day!"

He was walking around the Hood County square to spend his sixty bucks on a birthday gift for his fluffy, new girlfriend. He always hated when Friday the 13th came. He have never believed in luck, karma, or any superstitious. He thought it was a childish hoax. Just a stupid rumor spread by some dumbass that wanted a kick out of it.

Bad luck? Who would believe in that load of bullshit? Briley questioned in his mind. But he may have said that a little too early…

He stopped at an antique shop that he has never once seen at the square, but he hadn't been here in awhile. So maybe it was just new for him. He glanced up, but he didn't see a sign hanging above. He glanced at the window, but a sign wasn't in there either.

"That's a little strange," Briley commented. "A shop with no name. Oh well, I'll check it out."

He entered into the shop and see countless of ancient relic. The shop looked very run-down and dusty. The chandelier above him kept flickering, and it seemed very desolate.

"I guess maybe it's not that new," Briley replied. "This place looked like it been here for years!"

Suddenly, something caught his blue eyes. He walked over and saw a handheld mirror. It was craved with angels on the back, and outline of ivory vines and thorns wrapped around the handle. It had painted pink heart right above the mirror and a painted black heart opposite of it. The mirror was a little small, but Briley was able to see most of his face in it. He smiled at himself in the mirror.

Without warning, a black face popped out if the mirror and Briley dropped it with a startle. He heard the glass shattered on the oak wood floor as it scattered about, glistening like raindrops.

"Shit!" He whispered. "I broke it!"

He started scooping up the shards when he felt a sudden rumble roll through the shop. His eyes shifted over, and a huge man with a red face and red, curly hair towered over him as his beady, black eyes were filled with rage. Briley stood up and towered over the man.

Briley has always been pretty tall for his age, and he loved it. It made him feel very powerful, and the girls at his school always chased after him, because apparently, he was sexy and tall. He loved the advantages you got when you are tall.

"Sorry, about your mirror," he answered as he glanced down at the man. He was shorter than Briley thought. Briley chuckled at the sight, because he was an angry midget.

"Did you know what you have done, punk?!" the midget screamed out in rage. "You broke a rare relic of Queen Aurafer!"


"Aurafer! The late queen of Spain!"

"Never heard of her."

"That's because Aurafer disappeared before her marriage! Now, pay me sixty bucks!"


"You break it, you buy it! Now hand over sixty bucks, even though I should charge you a thousand dollar for breaking such a fine antique!"

Briley grumbled, but he gave him the sixty bucks and glanced down at the broken mirror. The obese, short man counted the money and pocketed in his apron.

"Okay," he replied. "You are free to go, and you know it's Friday the 13th, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

"You broke a mirror. That's seven years of bad luck right there, but you didn't break any mirror. You broke the Queen of Heart Mirror, the rare relic of Queen Aurafer."

"Whatever. I don't believe in that shit!"

"Okay, but you rather be safe then sorry. Beware of Aurafer!"

Briley waved a hand at him and walked out of the shop with a stupid, broken Queen of Heart Mirror in his hand. After crossing the street, he hopped in his 1990, red Mustang and throw the handheld mirror to the passenger seat. It didn't matter. It was broken already.

As he was driving back to his home, he felt a sudden pain in his shoulder. He tried to ignore it, but it kept getting sharper and sharper. One of his hands let go the wheel and touch his shoulder. He felt something stab his finger. He grabbed at it again and pulled it.

"Ouch," he screamed out after pulling whatever it was out. He glanced down and saw a pointed shard covered in red liquid in his right hand. He then rolled down the window and let the glass shard collapsed on the ground and die.

"Stupid shard," he replied angrily as he put his right hand back on the wheel. "Must've got me when I dropped the mirror, but that's a little strange that I didn't feel it when I was at that shop. Oh well, it's not like it was bad luck or anything. Just an accident."

After arriving at his house half an hour later, he pulled up to the driveway and slammed the door shut, leaving the broken mirror alone and trapped. He went in and saw that the living room was empty. He sat himself down on the couch and began flipping through channels.

It was very common that Valerie, Briley's mother, is out and gone somewhere. That was fine with Briley. He wanted to be alone, because he didn't want to take out his anger on her. He was having such a shitty evening.

Nothing wasn't good on the television, so Briley turned it off and went into his bedroom. His room was just a filthy pig pen, but he didn't care. Most boys didn't care when they're teenager. He sat on his bed and felt another sharp pain. This time coming from his back.

He stood up from his bed and saw another piece of shard in his bed. He threw it out the open window and stare at the blood spot on his sheet.

"Maybe Brandon went in my bedroom and broke something," Briley replied, refusing to listen to superstition.

Superstition is just a stupid phobia of so call "luck." He refused to listen to them. He refused to be like those kids at his school. He was not going to fall in the dumb hoax of Friday the 13th. It was extremely foolish!

He exited out of his bedroom and lingered into the bathroom. He suddenly felt another sharp pain in his back again, and he saw in the reflection that it was another shard. He pulled it out and threw it down the sink. He glanced back and saw three more shards in his right shoulder. His hand plucked them out and threw it down with the other glass shard.

"Okay, that's a little creepy," he replied, "but I refuse to believe in this seven year of bad luck shit!"

He then saw a dozen glass shards in his back in his reflection. He plucked them out in horror and threw them down the crimson stained glass with the others. He sprinted out the bathroom and went back in the living room.

He saw another bundle of pointed shards, covering his right arm. He shook them off and sprinted in the kitchen. A tall glass of Mountain Dew waited for him on the counter, so he took a quick drink of it. He then saw glass shards on all his fingertips. He plucked them out one by one and threw them down the beige tiles. He then stomped on them angrily.

"There is no such thing as bad luck," he replied, trying to soothe himself. "There is no such thing! Friday the 13th is just a freaking hoax!"

Again, glass shards are covering his right arm. He shook them off again and sat himself down on the couch in a tight ball.

"This is not real," he convinced himself, or at least tried. "This is all just a nightmare! Just an illusion!"

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain near his chest. He glanced down and see yet again another glass shard, but there was something else. A note was pinned onto his chest with a glass shard. He plucked out the annoying shard and unfolded the leaflet which was neatly folded in half.

And written in a delicate handwriting and a liquid that appeared to be blood, is a note. A note that sent chills down his spine. A note that made his heart skipped a beat. A note that made him actually feel fear of the superstition.

"Break a mirror, seven years of bad luck," Briley read out loud.

His grip dropped and the note glided down slowly to the oak wood floor. His throat felt so dry, and he felt the sharp pain of the pointed glass shards covering his whole body and in his blue eyes, he saw a shadowy figure of a female body standing in the doorway with hair and the bottom of her dress blowing in the wind.

No, this has to be a hoax! Briley screams out in his mind. Superstition is just a foolish phobia of bad luck! This is not real!

"Oh, but this is real, child," a female voice answered. "But I won't let you suffer for seven years, so don't fret. This will only take one cut."

The shadowy figure lingered into the living room with a huge piece of glass nicely gripped in her left hand. Briley tried to move, but every time he moved a muscle even slightly, the sharp pain grew sharper. Finally, the lady was closed to him and she sat on his lap with the shard rise up to the ceiling. She kissed her victim on the cheek as the shard cut through the air to end the life of Briley.

As the glass shard was coming toward him, Briley had a thought that could be his last. This was his thought:

Break a mirror, seven years of bad luck. This is not real! Superstition is just a stupid phobia of so call "luck." Break a mirror, seven years of bad luck is just a dumbass hoax!

Then in a flash, he saw a tidal wave of blood appear before his eyes…

I want to thank Sara Ellis for pointing out something, R&R, and giving her opinion.

A/N: The hood county square is a real place. It is in Granbury, TX, my hometown. Sadly, there is no antique store with no name there. That was just created by me. And the character, Briley, is an actually friend of mine and he has a mother name Valerie and an older brother name Brandon. But this is not a true event! This is totally fiction!