Those Who Live in Grass Houses

Seven Years

Seven Years

It was a normal morning and Jack Diogenes was looking at himself in the mirror. His stubbled face peered back at him, equally bleary-eyed and reluctant to go through the motions of shaving. There was no getting away from it, however, it would have to be done. All the beards he’d grown before had been scratchy, irritating and short lived.

“Nope, no chance of that,” he said to himself.

“I say do it,” said the man in the mirror.

Jack halted in mid movement. He had been about to turn away and get the razor but the thought left his mind and did not return for several days. His gaze flicked back to the mirror.

“What did you say?”

His reflection’s lips moved again. “You heard me. Let the beard grow.”

“This is crazy,” said Jack. “For a moment there, I thought the mirror spoke to me.”

“Wasn’t the mirror, dumbass. It was me.”

Jack’s mind cut in at this point. ‘You must be dreaming. Play along, it might be fun.’

“And you’re the man in the mirror? Another me, in other words?”

“Yeah, that’s the basic idea. ‘Cept we’re opposites. Like my left is your right and so on. So you might think I look like you but, really, that’s only because I’m the me you always see. The truth is, everyone else thinks I look like you but different somehow. They’re seeing that there’s something different about us but they can’t put their fingers on it.”

Jack yawned before saying, “Okay, I get it. So you’re my reflection and we’re subtly different. What’s your name in that case?”

“Same as yours but the other way round. Call me Cadge.”

Jack laughed. “So this is all because you want to borrow a buck?”

His reflection frowned back at him. “Jeez, you really are a dumbass. S’pose it figures since we’re opposites. It’s Jack backwards, that’s all. Do I have to explain everything to you?”

“And unlike me, you have no sense of humour. There’s something in this opposites business.”

Cadge made a face expressive of his frustration, eyes closed and lips screwed tight together. He muttered something under his breath and then continued, “Look, enough of this crap. You’ve got to help me get out of here.”

“And why would I do that? This is only a dream, after all.”

“It’s not a dream. Help me for old times sake. We’ve known each other all our lives and you owe it to me, popping up whenever you wanted to see yourself. It’s been exhausting and I want to live for myself for a change. Plus I’m going to catch hell for breaking the rules. It’s the prime directive never to let your world see what’s really going on. But I wanted to get out of here, it’s just awful, everything nice where you are is horrible over here and I’m never free to do as I please. You gotta help me or I’m in seriously deep doo-doo. And you know what they say, God helps those who help themselves. I’m yourself, so now’s your chance.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. How do I do that, anyway?”

“Break the mirror while I’m in it. You’ll have to get a hammer or something, make sure you can see me in the mirror, then break it. After that I’ll do what’s necessary.”

“Just a minute. That’s seven years bad luck where I come from.”

“That’s idiot superstition. Go find a hammer. Come on, Jack, get moving. I’m running out of time here.”

“Alright I’m going. Don’t move until I get back.” Jack turned to leave the bathroom. As he left, he heard the mirror say, “Oh har de har har, always the joker.”

Jack went straight to the oddments drawer and dug around in it for a few seconds. He found the hammer and returned to the bathroom. Going straight to the mirror, he looked in. Cadge peered back at him.

“Still here, are you?” asked Jack.

“Very funny,” replied Cadge. “Did you find a hammer?”

Jack showed it to the mirror.

“Okay, then. Keep me where you can still see me and smash the mirror. Make sure you hit hard enough.”

Jack moved back a bit, making sure that Cadge remained in the frame, then aimed a mighty blow at the mirror. There was a loud crash as the mirror shattered and the air was filled with flying shards. Jack pulled back sharply to avoid them. He tripped over the edge of the bath and fell backwards into it, cracking his head on the tiled wall as he did so. For a moment he saw stars and everything went dark.

When he awoke, he was folded into the bath and a man was standing over him. It was Cadge.

“You alright?” the reflected man asked.

“I think so,” repled Jack rubbing the back of his head. “Give us a hand to get out of here - I can’t move at the moment.”

“Fat chance,” responded Cadge. “I’m outa here. Gotta see my nice, new world out there.”

“Mighty neighbourly of you, I must say. I’d do it for you.”

“Ah, there’s the rub, Jack. Opposites, you see. Nice you, nasty me. Have a nice life.”

He waved a sardonic hand and turned to go. Then a thought struck him and he said over his shoulder. “By the way, I lied about the seven years bad luck. I guess yours has already started.”

And with that, he was gone.


House Martell

Word count: 915
For "Game of Thrones"  The North Remembers, Mirror Mirror Task 1
Prompt: "Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who's the ________ of them all?"