1 My Place

Have you ever looked in the mirror and thought there was another world there?

A realm where the boundaries between light and darkness blurred, and the unknown beckoned with an enticing, yet terrifying, allure? Imagine the life people led there… And if given the chance, I’d like to meet them, talk to them, and exchange stories with them. I’ve dreamt of that opportunity time and time again—the chance to step through that shimmering veil and leave behind my mundane existence.

Would you know? The eyes were the mirrors of our soul? I couldn't tell, but my Lola used to say I had a beautiful soul. As a child, I often caught glimpses of myself in the mirror, searching for evidence of that beauty she spoke of. Instead, I saw a confused boy with messy hair and a smudge of dirt on his cheek, wondering if the reflection held a secret I couldn’t yet grasp.

One rainy afternoon, while the world outside blurred into a watercolor of gray, I found myself standing before the bathroom mirror again. I leaned closer, squinting as if the simple act of concentration might reveal hidden truths. My heart raced, and for a fleeting moment, the reflection shimmered, distorting like rippling water.

In that brief moment, I glimpsed something beyond my own face—a twinkle of something.

I reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against the cool surface of the mirror. My heart pounded in my chest, caught between fear and desire. Would I dare to cross that threshold? Would I emerge on the other side, still me, or would I lose myself in the beauty my Lola had seen all along?

Sixteen years old, and I still believed in something so whimsical. I sighed as I stared into the mirror, hoping to find the enchanting realm I had imagined, but there was nothing there—just my own reflection staring back at me.

I ran a hand through my messy hair, thinking how low I had fallen. My Lola's words echoed in my mind, reminding me of the beauty she insisted resided within me, but I struggled to see it.

As I leaned closer to the mirror, a flicker of movement caught my eye. My heart raced as I squinted, searching for that elusive shimmer, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Frustration bubbled within me, and I pressed my palm against the cool glass, wishing with all my might that it would reveal its secrets.

In that moment of longing, I felt a tug at the edges of my consciousness—a whisper of possibility. Was it foolish to hope for something extraordinary in my mundane life?

I pulled my hand away.

Perhaps the world beyond the mirror was just a figment of my imagination, a wishful thought clinging to the edges of my reality. But deep down, I knew that hope, no matter how whimsical, was worth holding onto.

And then she appeared, practically running to the mirror. It was a girl around my age, wearing the same clothes I did—a black shirt with a panda’s face on it. My breath caught in my throat as our eyes met, and I realized this was not just a trick of light. The girl in the mirror looked at me with wide and frantic eyes.

Suddenly, her face crumpled, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Why did you steal my place from me?” she cried, her voice trembling with sorrow.