The Boy In The Mirror

The Boy In The Mirror

By:  FossilFlame  Ongoing
Language: English
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She had always wanted a vanity ever since she was a little girl. She remembered it clearly, the wooden art piece her mom had painted a glorious white to match her small room. But Hannah had never known that it would come with a friend. A "friend" that had a past so chilling, her parents would have known that the red on the bottom of the mirror hadn't been rust. Benjamin Faye had owned it long before her, too bad she had never met him. This is their story.

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5 Chapters
1. The Vanity: Colorful
"Mommy, when can I get one?"A little girl with bright red hair stared up at her mother with pleading eyes."Soon, dear. We're looking. We're just trying to find the perfect one for you without breaking our funds."Hannah frowned, kicking her little legs as she walked away from the tall vanity in the store, pristine and coated in shiny pink. The color was alluring but the child managed to turn her eyes away from it anyway."Okay..." She whined softly, her small hands seeking her mom's.The older woman sighed, sadness in her eyes that Hannah couldn't understand at her young age. But she saw it nonetheless, and so she smiled at her mom to make her happy.Yet all she did was frown some more, squeezing her hand."Soon, Hannah-bear... I promise. We'll manage to find you one soon."---                        
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2. The Vanity: Strange
"I....I really don't want to, dad."George looked down at his son with irritation, his thick brows raised as he sighed. "Ben, you've been putting this off for weeks. I don't have time for this today. I need you to do your chores before I get home from work.” “But dad…”“ I don't have time to argue with you. Get. Them. Done."Ben's shoulders immediately slumped as his father walked out the door with an air of finality.Ben prided himself on not being scared of much. He had been twelve by the time he had fully grown out of the monster under the bed, been too old for myths and legends for plenty of years now. He wasn't afraid of the dark, or spiders, he didn't mind snakes, or zombies; honestly, he wasn't scared of much. He knew most of these things were harmless or just flat out weren't real. So when something managed to spook him, it frightened him to the core.And as his gaze fell on the garage door, wh
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3. The Vanity: Theorized.
"What is vanity?The trickle of satisfaction when you look in the mirror?The pride and glory, poured into each reflection peering back at you. A taste for the finer glimpses of life--shallow, skin deep?A shred of vanity, it didn't harm anyone, some could say.Yet to the eyes behind the mirror, well, perhaps it felt differently.Perhaps it felt perplexed.Hostile.With just a dash of predatory."Ben stiffened in his seat, his eyes wide as the passage from his literature class was spoken fluidly from his teacher's lips. He looked pale in his seat, he knew it from the whispers around him. A blonde he had always liked kept staring at him from the corner of his eyes as she mouthed “are you okay…” to check in on him.Any other day, he would’ve been ecstatic. His hormonal teenage self would’ve been thrumming with life at the idea of even having her attention—finally, he might add. But toda
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4. IV. The Vanity: Knowing yet arrogant.
“Alright, you can come out now. I’m sick of putting up with your bullshit!”Ben stalked into his garage with vengeance, planning his confrontation exactly ten minutes after his parents had safely left for work. The quiet slumber of his house ate at him, the silence loud in his ears as he traversed through the chilly air to the mirror.Ben had told himself that he would be brave. Reaffirmed to himself that he wouldn’t let the entity (he spitefully refused to use his name) get under his skin anymore. And as the apprehension grew in his stomach, Ben recalled how warriors of the past went into battle without fear. Granted, most of them had weapons and armor. So considering the fact that he was sporting a worn down T-shirt and a pair of alphabet kitchen magnets in his pants, Ben felt his slight nerves were justified.Knuckles tap once on the wooden desk of the vanity, and then he’s waiting. “Are you coming out or not?” &n
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5. The Vanity: Spiteful
“Hey, Ben!” His father called from the garage, the clanging of tools echoing behind the door. “Have you seen my wrench? I can’t find the dam—“ His mother cleared her throat from the dining room table and his dad coughed, before continuing, “that blasted thing anywhere.”Weird, his dad usually was incredibly organized with his tools, sometimes he’d joke with Tyler that he loved his metal babies more than him. Though, they all knew it wasn’t true."No, I haven’t seen it since last week. Do you want help finding it??” Ben called back, setting down his math notebook. He was getting a headache from it anyway.There was a pause before the gruff man relented, his head popping in through the kitchen doorway. He looked exasperated. “If you don’t mind, I need to retighten the bolts on the car again. Not sure what the issue is but every time I mess with it, it loosens up again the next day.
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