Reflection

By Scarlett V Claybaugh

Jenna Rosa always lived a calm ordinary life, content in her own little world as a local freelance artist. On her twenty-fifth birthday, she discovers an old mirror. Intrigued by the seemingly ancient-looking glass, she takes it with her. Whispers from the mirror fill her home and what she sees is not her reflection but a man named Ian trapped inside a glass prison.

“It was left in front of my shop by this old woman who claimed that it was cursed.”

“Finally someone who can see me without screaming… Oh, you have no idea how relieving it is to actually talk to someone other than myself.”

“You couldn’t save her before, and you can’t save her now.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662438905

Book preview

Chapter 1

Is April Fools’ Supposed to Be a Joke?

Twenty-first century

The sound of the alarm blared around the bedroom on the sixth floor of an apartment building that overlooked a busy street in New York City. Hands slapped the off button of the alarm as the sole occupant of the apartment sat up groggily, her cropped cut light-brown hair completely in disarray from sleep.

Pulling herself out of bed, she went to the bathroom to freshen up for the day. As soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, she dressed herself in her usual shaded-colored schemes, complete with a silk scarf she wrapped around her head.

In the kitchen, she turned on the TV to listen to the forecast and determine whether today would be a good day for business or if she must stay inside. She sighed while she waited for her coffee to finish as her silver-blue eyes turned to the calendar on the wall and saw today’s date.

April 1, what a joke. She said to herself bitterly and sighed. Twenty-five freakin’ years old. I thought people were supposed to feel old in their forties. She added as her coffee maker dinged before she took the pot and poured coffee into her Mona Lisa mug. She added cream into her coffee and began to stir it with a spoon as she listened to the forecast, her already sour mood becoming bitter when she saw that today will be very windy with light drizzles.

Why am I not surprised? she asked rhetorically as she drank her coffee, her eyes turning to her art supply bag she takes with her on sunny days when the parks are full and she can paint animated portraits of her customers. It’s a good business for her, being a street artist, no strings attached, and it pays for her modest apartment. Today will be a setback given the weather, but thankfully, her apartment had a spare room she reserves as an art studio. Her talent as an artist earned her some clients who sought her out to paint beautiful art pieces on bedroom walls as well as fantasy paintings, depicting mythological creatures.

Her phone on the counter rang. She put her coffee mug down to answer her cell. Hello, Jenna Rosa speaking.

Hi, Jenna, it’s Marie Fields. Sorry if I’m interrupting anything, but my sister’s birthday is a week away, and I need to know if it’s ready. You know how much she loves mermaids.

Jenna could picture the near desperate look on her frequent client’s face, no doubt feeling the stress in her catering business that lost another employee who decided to up and leave without a word.

Don’t worry, Ms. Fields, it’s already finished. Just come over, pick it up, and hide it where your sister would never think of looking for it. Jenna assured her with a smile as she heard her sigh in relief.

Thank the cosmos! You are a lifesaver, and stop calling me Ms. Fields. Call me Marie. She said, wishing Jenna would stop calling her Ms. Fields, seeing how they are more than acquaintances on business transactions.

Okay, see you soon, Jenna said.

She hung up and made her way to her art studio to pick up her wrapped project and wait in the living room. Her client, Marie Fields, has been coming to her for her artistic skills for over two years since she came to live in New York. In a way, she was the closest to ever be considered as a friend to Jenna. Given the latter’s nomadic lifestyle and childhood spent in the foster system, she has a hard time trusting others, let alone creating friendships with people or, God forbid, romantic ones.

The doorbell rang, signaling her client’s expected arrival before Jenna got up from the couch to answer the door to reveal Marie with her blond hair tied back, bright blue eyes, and a joyful smile on her face.

Come on in. Jenna invited her in then closed the door behind her and led her to the living room, where her artwork was boxed up.

I know I say this for all my clients, but I do believe this to be my best work yet. Jenna said with a proud smile as she opened the small box and lifted a small sculpture of a beautiful mermaid with long flowing blond hair, decorated with seashells and covering her chest and a green tail as she sat on a rock, playing her harp. The paint was smooth to the touch and catching the light in a beautiful shimmer.

Jenna watched Marie’s expression that was just starstruck.

So what’s the verdict? she asked as Marie shook and squealed, She’s gonna love it!

Jenna smiled before she wrapped the figurine in bubble wrap then sealed it in the box.

I hope this fits on the cake. Jenna said as she handed the box to Marie.

Are you kidding? They’ll forget about the cake the moment they see the mermaid. Marie said, further praising Jenna’s work as she wrote down her check before ripping it out and handing it to Jenna and taking the box from her.

You know, Jen, you should really come to this party. Catching the look on Cleo’s face when she sees this on her cake would truly be a victory. Marie said, using her favorite nickname on Jenna who looked uncomfortable at the prospect of parties.

Thank you, Marie, but me attending a party is never a good idea. Nothing against you. I like you enough to make my masterpieces extra special. Marie smiled at the compliment. But I’m terrible at socializing, and I don’t have that many friends. I would just ruin your sister’s birthday. Jenna said, ignoring the pang her own words brought her. Even though the prospect of having friends was appealing to her, she was still an awkward girl who doesn’t know how to make emotional connections to people.

You won’t ruin anything, Marie began, eyes filled with kindness and empathy. I told my family about the little sculptures you make for our catering business, and they absolutely want to meet the artist who has kept our business from going kaput. Marie said, making Jenna chuckle. Seriously, just think about it. This would mean a lot to me to have someone who has helped me out extensively. Marie said, giving Jenna the puppy eyes.

Jenna sighed, knowing there was no way she would be able to get out of this without coming up with an excuse not to go. I’ll think about it. Jenna said.

Marie smiled. Good enough for me. She said before grabbing her bag. Now I have to buy a dress for Cleo. I just hope she’s still a size 6 1/2. She said, worried about what dress size her sister is now as Jenna escorted her to the door.

Don’t worry about it. This will pass very quickly. Worry about her dress size when she’s eating the cake, Jenna assured her as she opened the door for Marie who laughed at her joke.

Thank you, and call me if you are coming. She said as she left.

Jenna closed the door behind her then went back to her living room and slumped on the couch with a sigh. Looking at her clock, she saw that it was 9:00 a.m. Why can’t today be over already? she said, letting her head fall back against the cushions as she stared at the ceiling, contemplating what she should do on this dreary day.

After five minutes of moping, she finally decided to get up and put her shoes on, grab her coat and purse, then left her apartment.

Chapter 2

What Am I Looking At?

It was as the weatherman predicted when she stepped outside. It was fairly windy and cloudy, but she found it relaxing on a bustling street such as hers. She kept on walking in the direction she usually takes, wanting to have a nice, relaxing stroll just to kill some time on her birthday.

As Jenna made her way down an almost-deserted street corner, her eyes caught sight of an antique shop and saw a sign posted on the window: Going-out-of-business sale, 50% off. After a moment of contemplating whether or not she should go in, she decided to bite the bullet and cross the street to visit the shop.

Upon entering the shop, with the ringing of the bell the moment she opened the door, she saw what she was expecting with a variety of objects from decades ago that looked new. She could not help but enjoy the peaceful atmosphere this shop brings, as though a peaceful moment from the past has come to the present. She smiled at the thought as she looked at a cute cat figurine that had a top hat and cane.

Suddenly, she felt something in the air that made her tense up as she looked around the shop. She tried to shrug it off, but that feeling would not go away. So Jenna, being the curious person she is, stepped further into the shop and looked at some of the items she recognized in movies and documentaries until she found a red curtain. Without hesitating, she drew the curtain aside and found a small room with a few extra antiques sitting on the shelves.

Jenna entered the room and allowed her eyes to wander around to find something that was out of the ordinary until her eyes caught sight of a tall object covered in a black sheet. Jenna took calm, sedate steps toward the black-covered object until she was directly in front of it. She raised her hand, took hold of the fabric, and pulled. The sheet fell and revealed a full-length mirror hanging on the wall. It was covered in dust and buildup, but she was able to make out her own blurry reflection. The frame of the mirror looked like it was made of bronze, and there were blue, green, and red gems embedded into the metal. The mirror was oval-shaped while the framework spiraled and curled in an intricate branch-like pattern.

Jenna was mesmerized by the artwork of this mirror as her fingers traced the edges of the frame before she pulled her fingers back to inspect the dust that stained her skin. She stared at her dust-covered hand then back at the mirror and concluded that this object has been here for a long time.

This area is off-limits. She jumped at the voice, startled as she turned to the side to see an older man standing at the edge of the doorframe. I am so sorry. I wasn’t aware. I saw the sign out front and thought I’d have a look. She said, her hand on her heart that was beating rapidly from the man’s sudden appearance.

Eh, it’s fine. I’m trying to get rid of everything and go into retirement. Hell, I’m hoping to go to Hawaii and get some color back to my dead skin. The older man said, which made Jenna laugh at his joke. Is this for sale? she asked as she pointed at the mirror in front of her.

The older man’s eyes widened, You want to buy that? he asked, gesturing at the mirror in surprise.

Yeah. Why, is something wrong with it? Jenna asked, bemused by this man’s reaction before he approached the mirror.

Depends on the person who buys this thing. He said, staring at the mirror in apprehension.

I don’t follow. Jenna said, unable to understand what this man just stated as she glanced between him and the mirror.

The older man sighed as he stared at his blurry reflection. I didn’t purchase this mirror. It was left in front of my shop by this old woman who claimed that it was cursed. He said as he turned to Jenna who gave him a bewildered expression.

Cursed? she repeated, in need of some clarification.

The old woman said she saw a man inside the mirror. No reflection, just a man. Told me to be careful with it. Then she just ran off, he answered, bemused by how he got this mirror in the first place.

You believed her? Jenna asked. The concept sounded ridiculous as she glanced at the mirror.

The older man shrugged. Far as I knew, she was on something, or her age was starting to get to her. But get this, once, there was this family, they had a kid who was special. Back when I had this displayed out in front of the window, the kid started freaking out, yelling about seeing someone staring at him in the mirror. I’ll chalk this up to his condition, but all honesty, I get this weird feeling like someone is staring at me whenever I’m alone with this thing. He said as he stared at the mirror, as though something will jump out at him.

Is that why you placed it back here? Jenna asked, felt that this was some far-fetched urban legend.

When you have this thing for fifteen years, you start to feel a little paranoid. The sheet was only for good measure. He said as he picked the sheet up from the ground.

Jenna scoffed under her breath. No offense, sir, but I don’t believe in the supernatural. If anything, the state of this mirror only makes it look cursed. Personally, I just want to clean this thing up. She stated since myths don’t actually exist. Ironically, most of her artwork is fantasy-based.

He snorted out a laugh and asked, So you’re interested in buying?

How much are we talking? Jenna asked, straight to the point so she can take the mirror home and clean it up.

The older man crossed his arms and hummed as he figured out the price for the mirror. Normally, I would sell something like this for five hundred, but since everything is half off, two hundred and fifty will suffice. He said as he finished his calculations.

Perfect. Jenna said as she fished out the right amount of cash to pay the owner.

Not to sound like a nagging grandmother or anything, but are you really sure about this? he said as he gave her the final warning.

I see nothing wrong with it. She said, then he took the money she held out for him.

"Okay, but just to be on the safe side, here’s my phone number. Call me if something supernatural does happen." He said as he took out a sticky note and wrote down his number then handed it to her. She took it and read his name.

Your name is Biscotti? she asked incredulously.

Biscotti chuckled and explained, It’s my middle name. Yeah, my parents owned a coffee shop, so they decided to give their children’s middle names after confections. Marble and Brownie live up to their names.

Jenna raised an eyebrow. Wait, what is your first name?

Biscotti coughed into his hand. I’d rather not talk about it.

Jenna nodded before she introduced herself, I’m Jenna Rosa by the way.

Beautiful name. He complimented before he turned back to the mirror and covered it with a sheet. Now let’s carry this to your car. He said, but Jenna scratched the back of her head sheepishly.

Um, actually, I walked two blocks here. She said as Biscotti’s face fell before it brightened up.

Wait here. He walked out of the room to get something to help her, leaving her alone with the sheet-covered mirror.

A tapping sound caught her ear, which made her look around the room but found nothing. She shrugged it off, thinking that it was coming from the other room as Biscotti came back with his keys in hand.

My wife will watch the store for a bit while we drive this to your home.

He and Jenna carried the mirror to his old pickup truck and sat it in the cargo and drove to her address.

Ten minutes later, they set the mirror up in her living room as Biscotti looked at her artwork she displayed on the shelves and on walls. Should’ve known you were an artist. Seriously, why aren’t these selling at a gallery? Biscotti exclaimed as he marveled at her artwork while Jenna pulled the sheet off the mirror.

Couldn’t rent a gallery space. I mostly make my cash on sunny days at a park by drawing portraits for customers, Jenna explained as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. How much do I owe you for helping me get this here? she asked as Biscotti turned to her in surprise.

Hm? Oh, no charge necessary. This was on the house. He said, shaking his head.

No, I can’t do that. I owe you for taking time out of your day for me. Jenna insisted, wanting to repay him for his assistance.

Biscotti hummed as he looked at the paintings on display until his eyes caught a gorgeous painting with an angel holding the hands of a toddler as they walked through the meadow. How much do you usually sell these paintings? he asked, pointing at the artwork he liked.

They range from a hundred to three hundred. You can have the one with the angel for free if you like. Jenna said, giving him permission to take one home with him for free.

Biscotti turned to her and exclaimed, Really?

Jenna nodded as she came over and took the canvas off the wall and carried it back to her studio to wrap it in brown paper for its protection. Here you are. Signed, sealed, delivered, it’s yours. She said as she gave her wrapped gift to Biscotti.

Thank you very much. My wife loves angels. This will definitely make up for forgetting our wedding anniversary last year. Biscotti said, which earned him a bemused look from Jenna before adding, I paid for that day with my life.

Jenna nodded in understanding and sympathy.

Again, thank you very much. Jenna said as she escorted him to the door while he carried the painting under his arm.

No problem. Have a good day. Biscotti said as he left the apartment with his anniversary present in tow.

Jenna went to the kitchen to retrieve cleaning supplies for the mirror, intent on scrubbing it until it is good as new. With a pair of rubber gloves, a sponge, and a spray bottle of cleaning solution, she set to work on removing all the buildup dust on the mirror, revealing a clear reflection of herself. After an hour, she removed the last bit of dust from the frame. Stepping back with a sigh, she surveyed her work and couldn’t help but feel impressed with herself. From an artifact of an antique store to decoration for the living room, the mirror was clean, clear, and new again.

She smiled at the mirror, picked up her cleaning supplies, and put them away before going into her art studio to create more masterpieces.

Chapter 3

Man in the Mirror

Unknown to Jenna, a man watched her with a smile as he leaned against the glass of the mirror. He could not describe how happy he felt to see the outside world again after being covered by that sheet for over a decade. He was even happier to have his view cleared of filth and see the beautiful pieces of art displayed in front of the mirror.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the woman who now owns the mirror. She looked so much like her. The eyes, the hair color, the shape of her mouth—everything. Tears streamed down his cheeks at the memory of his beloved. No matter how many centuries have passed, the image of her still remains. What hurts worse was that this replica of her will never truly see or hear him. Even though he has gotten used to his isolation, he can never stop that longing for an actual conversation with another human being.

He sighed as he slid down the mirror’s surface until he was sitting with his arms on top of his knees. The side of his head touched the cold smooth surface of the glass as he listened to music coming from that girl’s studio. At least this one is a much more pleasant sight than the old woman or that wailing child. He whispered to himself, remembering those few minutes of lost hope when someone saw him only to react negatively. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to let the strange music fill his ears. And with better taste in music.

Jenna sang along to her playlist as she continued painting. Her favorite song she was currently listening to was called Man in the Mirror by Michael Jackson. The heartfelt emotions that came from his voice helped her create new pieces of art. She held onto those feelings as she spent hours on end painting canvases. When evening came upon her, she decided to call it a day and let the paint dry as she washed her art supplies in the sink.

After hanging up her apron, she made her way through the living room to the kitchen to get an evening snack before bed. Her phone rang when she was looking through her near-empty fridge. She closed it to answer her cell and saw it was a text message from Marie.

You have something waiting for you at the front door.

Walking over to the front door, she looked through the peephole and found no one standing in front of her apartment. She opened the door and found no one around until she looked down to see a white box with a blue ribbon on the floor. Picking up the box, she caught the sweet sugary smell she instantly recognized—cake.

After closing the door behind her with her foot, she carried the box to the kitchen counter then untied the ribbon that held the box closed. Flipping open the lid, what greeted her was a decorated cake with Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa at the center with Happy 25th Birthday, Jenna Rosa! spelled out above. Her eyes caught sight of a card beside the cake and pulled it out to feel a square metal object inside the card. Opening the card, she fully expected jolly music to come from the little recorder but got something else.

Happy birthday, Jen! First of all, I meant to give you this cake when I stopped by today. Sorry about that. I keep getting swamped thanks to Jay—inconsiderate jerk. Anyway, let me just say happy birthday to you, happy birthday to—what the hell! Cujo, bad dog, you’re not supposed to crap in the house!

The birthday message ended with a click before Jenna placed the card off to the side.

Jenna was disgusted at the latest image Marie accidentally put into her head thanks to her birthday message. She sighed as she looked down at the cake her friend made for her until her stomach growled. She stepped away from the counter to search for a birthday candle until she found one along with a matchbox. Taking the cake out of the box, stuck the candle in the center and took a match, and lit it.

She closed her eyes and thought of her wish. While making wishes made very little difference to Jenna, a small part of her harbored a silent desire for love and happiness with someone she can confide in. Taking a breath, she blew out the candle before opening her eyes to see smoke streaming off the candlewick then took it out to get a plate, knife, and fork to cut the cake.

He watched Jenna from the mirror. He couldn’t help but feel sad for her spending her birthday alone like this. Doesn’t she have any family? He has seen many of the mirror’s owners have families of their own, even the woman who had the mirror before the antique shop bore three sons who gave her fifteen grandchildren.

He sighed as he turned his eyes away from the woman to stare at the wall and said to himself, Talk about an unhappy birthday.

Jenna’s head shot up when she thought she heard someone speak. She looked around, saw no one, shrugged it off, and finished her slice of cake. Afterward, she placed the cake back in the box and stored it in the fridge then left the kitchen.

Looking out the window, she saw that it was already dark—meaning, it was time for her nightly routine. She turned on the faucet in her bathroom and started brushing her teeth with cinnamon-flavored toothpaste. All that was heard was the sound of the faucet running and the brushing of her teeth. After spitting into the sink, she turned off the water and used a towel to wipe her face.

Suddenly, she froze stiff when her ears caught a sound that was foreign to her within the apartment. Slowly, she lowered the towel onto the sink, listening to the sound until she realized that it was