The Arcade Photography Contest Special
The old mansion was his now. He’d never had much of anything in his life, not since the orphanage and the ‘system’ made sure he didn’t get much of anything.
But this was nice. Unexpected. A tidy inheritance, a place that was his own. The lawyer had said he was the sole heir and the will was air-tight. He’d been working at the dead end job, trying to stay ahead of the bill collectors and the loan sharks. His band had broken up, his friends had deserted him. One thing after another. But now – things were looking up.
He wandered the passages of his house, exploring. The decor came from mid-last century, maybe even earlier. Nothing was locked as he wandered the house. That was, until he went up to the attic. But an old skeleton key seemed to fit the lock on the door and he pushed it open to a groan of the hinges. He found a light switch, flipped it, and in the dim illumination the light provided, he finished the climb up the narrow passage. And then he came into a room of wonders.
There were old suits on racks, cloth-covered furniture, jewelry boxes and odds and ends. He found trunks, standing closets, boxes and crates with so many things. There was an assortment of strange mannequins and dress making dolls, cages for birds or other pets, parts of children’s toys here and there, and evidence that a manufacturing process was going on – someone had been taking parts from one doll and trying to assemble it to make different creatures. He heard twin meows and found a two headed cat in one of the larger bird cages by the large tri-paneled mirror. Large dark moths fluttered around taunted the cats.
That’s when he found the skull. It was under a veil of black lace near the mirror on a stand by itself. He tossed the lace aside, and picked it up, and as he held it, he chanced to look up into the old fashioned mirror. And there he beheld a sight. It was him, but not him – he was someone else, perhaps. It felt like he was seeing himself in a dream. He blinked and tried to clear his eyes. But the image simply grinned back at him, red lipped and wide mouthed.
The image was attractive, and he couldn’t look away. It was sort of odd, but awesome, too.
He was the J-Rock star that he’d always wanted to be, dressed in a chic shirt, and pinstriped shorts, a loose tie and fingernails like crazy – or were those claws? The shirt was sheer, unbuttoned, revealing tattoos the way he’d always wanted. The moths fluttered and landed on his mess of long white tinted hair, assembling themselves like a strange insectoid crown. His lips were red, his mouth wide, and a smirk was there. He had attitude – and there was this weird set of glasses he was wearing. So totally odd! But this was what he’d always wanted to be.
The image of himself spoke in the mirror. “You need only say the word, “ the image said. “Say the word, and this can be you. What can it harm? Just say yes to your dream.”
He frowned. Sure, this is what he wanted to be – he felt it. Even with the strange things going on in the mirror. But how could this be? He felt uncertain, and the weird nature of the mirror was slowly getting to him. “But I’m just nobody,“ he whispered.
“Now you can be somebody, and then you know just who you are, “ his image said to him from the mirror. The image reached for him – fingers extended, as if touching the mirror’s surface.
“Yes, “ he said, unable to stop the word or his hand reaching back. The mirror image took his hand, and then stepped out, once it had grabbed his hand. It was like a camera trick of overlaying projected images on one another. And it sent the old image of himself into the mirror.
“Now we’re somebody – and we’re gonna find out just who we are,” he said, into the mirror. And things were just never the same again.
Shirt & Tie- ::GB:: Wet shirt 2016 & Tie (Store)
Pants- NEWCLOVER)) HALF PANTS (MOM)
Butterflies & Eye Art- :curelessamore: / Surrealisme / L’Aura & Les Larmes (The Arcade)
Skull- -David Heather-Blinged Out Skull (The Arcade)
.Reckless. – Gypsy Warrior (N21)