The House of Mirrors.

The sign read ‘Welcome to the House of Mirrors’.

What could be more revealing than your own altering reflection based on various mirrors that all had your story to tell?

As you entered the house you were immediately confronted by your 8-year-old self in a mirror to the left of the opening passage. You noticed that the essence of naivety surrounded you but your innocence outweighed it all. The car crash that sent your world spiralling was no stranger to you, the looming feeling of fear meant that as a child you began to grow with everything being a danger to you. The reflection of your mother’s embrace slowly formed while you walked through the hallway and gazed at a mirror directly above a derelict piano. You began to remember your only source of comfort, the only origin of perfection in a somewhat distorted perception of the world. Her constant words of life counteracted the echoes of deceit and betrayal from those considered your closest allies. However behind those words revealed a constant stream of tears, reminding you that it’s not every river that brought joy, some seas were better not be formed in the first place.

As you progressed through this house,  a mirror shatters and as you gather the shards you see the opportunities you’ve lost and in each fragment you watched your peers excel through life. Never had wasted potential seemed so beautiful as the pieces of glass seemed to reflect the harshness of the moon’s soft radiance, expressing the duality in its nature.

Had circumstances been different it would have been you in this house.

The fragments become disillusioned as another mirror forms, this time showing your first born child. The epitome of grace staring right back at you with no formal understanding of the world, you longed to keep it that way. The vastness of the cosmic couldn’t compare to the depth in her brown eyes, but it was the same eyes that wished you would have stayed but a relentless work schedule meant you sacrificed time to get paid, your biggest shame. Money over blood until your conscience became stained. These mirrors knew you by name because they reflected what you’d had become, but that’s life. You spent your days viewing your reflection through a distorted lens that concealed who you truly are, what you truly have the potential to be.

You decided that you had seen enough. As you attempt to leave the house you notice that where there was once a door was again another mirror. This time the mirror began to unveil what your life could be like if you decided to seal the fragments together allowing you to see the true reflection of the self. But unlike the rest of mirrors in the house, the flash forwards of your potential didn’t fade over time. Stuck in a repetitive loop you struggled to understand why this mirror showed you hope despite the self-inflicted cracks you caused. At the moment you knew that unless you took control of your vision, you will never leave this house of mirrors, you’ll only enter a new one.

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