Eisoptrophobia

When I was a kid, I used to get scared by my reflection. I would stare at it for hours and I was certain that I was looking at a different person and not at the mirrored image of myself. Sometimes I would stand there for almost half an hour, staring at the mirror, frozen in fear.

It would happen whenever I was fixing my hair or doing something with my face. I would stare at my reflection for a bit too long and suddenly I would become completely transfixed by it. I would look into the eyes of the reflection and I was certain that I wasn’t looking at myself anymore. I kept my hands where they were and stared in scared silence, waiting for the “reflection” to slip and move when it thought I wasn’t looking.

Its eyes seemed to widen and its mouth seemed to twist into a crooked smile. I could count the little white teeth in its childish mouth as it seemed to mock me just by changing its facial expression. Sometimes I would imagine that it had a voice. It never said anything to me. It just giggled and sighed, mostly. It was my voice, but it wasn’t. It was my face, but it wasn’t. It was me, but it wasn’t. I would blink and everything would be back to normal. I would be a normal child standing in front of a normal mirror again. My reflection would be me again. I wouldn’t even be sure whether that had just happened or if I had just imagined it all.