“Forty seven…..forty eight….forty nine…..fifty!” Jessie slams the brush on the vanity.  Her little hands grabs the long coal black locks and binds it into the right ponytail.  Dark eyes blink and regulars her reversed image.  

“It’s not right!  It sits higher on the side of your head than the left.  Mommy will make us do it all over again.”  The image tells her.

She squints in distance for the voice much like hers.  “She said fifty brush strokes on each!  I’ll take the backside of the brush to you!  Mommy ain’t telling me to do it over any way!”  

“Mommy says…” The image gets cut off.

“Mommy don’t say anything any more!   You won’t either if you make me mad!” Eyes burning into the mirror show a little more than rage.

“Oh, yeah.  Mommy will come to tuck us in.  She’ll see your hair. Then you will have to sit there and we will have to go through fifty more brush strokes!  You are gonna get us in trouble again!” The image looks much sadder than the girl.

“Shows you what you know! Here ask Mommy for yourself!” Jessie raises the severed head of Mommy. 

 It’s eyes hollowed, the image starts to cry. “How could you?”

23 thoughts on “Mirror

      1. True. Norman was much more subtle. He only poisoned Mother & then pretended to be her to keep her alive. Mama’s severed head is like a trophy to this girl!


  1. Chills the whole way through for me.

    Funny too, for me, I just wrote a flash fiction yesterday about a young woman seeing herself in a mirror. Mine is not set to post until the 23rd but I find it interesting how there seem to be invisible lines of conciousness among people. I have one blog I follow where we always seem to be posting about the same thing within days of each other.

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    1. Maybe the mystics are right there’s only one consciousness we call plug into…or coincidence runs strong here. I didn’t believe in coincidence. So we are connected is only thing left. Thanks for the chills part!

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      1. I can do both. But time usually fits me in smaller doses. I’m in that working plan for a twenty thousand word masterpiece…. but that’s a feel piece. The plague in an airport. Best wrote when traveling. 😉


      2. The people in the airport and the time on plane are prefect for it. And Yiu cab tell the person next to you that you’re writing a book and need one more victim ti kill off. They will leave you alone:-D

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      3. I’ll be on fifth flight this year next week. I Isuzu travel three ti five tines a year but don’t always fly. But since this time in going to las Vegas, I’ll have material to spare. I’ll be in the California desert fit four days


  2. Jesus! Here I was having a little chuckle because to this day I have absolutely no intention of brushing *that* much! Mind you, my mom did not make me brush at all if I didn’t want to. Only on special nights out or for school pictures. One could ask you the same thing. How could you!?

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    1. My wife would brush our my step daughters hair that wasn’t cut until she turned eight. She said it would take forever. Well I heard someone at work see they told their daughter her hair would get cut if it wasn’t brushed out every night. I thought, hmmm. What would a sweet little girl do. …;-) I never had thick enough hair.


      1. To be honest, it’s necessary. If you don’t brush it (and I even tie it back) before bed, you can wake up with an awful mess in the morning. And brushing out knotted tatted hair can make you wish your head (or all your hair) was simply cut off. Your tale is actually kind of cool in that I don’t think Grimm ever wrote a fairy tale that would warn little girls what little bitches they might become if they don’t follow their mother’s strict brushing orders! 😉


      2. Well back then girls didn’t have Disney to teach then to be princesses. And there were five to ten kids in each house, so if a witch ate one ot two it might take a week to notice someone was missing. 😉

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