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A failed relationship. A new home. An old mirror. And messages from the dead...

Mirror Mirror New.png

Mirror, mirror on the door, who is it you're waiting for?

Cassidy is reeling from a painful breakup from Elise.

He's trying to move on and compartmentalise his broken relationship, and he's managing to.

But then, the messages begin. Messages written on a mirror hidden in an old wardrobe. Messages from someone called Amy who tells Cassidy she's dead.


She also tells him there's no such thing as ghosts.


Mirror, mirror on the door, who is it you're waiting for?

The move went well. Smoothly. He guessed that was good. Nice.

House moves don't always go wrong, nor do they go right every time. Ornaments can break. Sofas can sometimes not fit through doorways. Televisions, expensive and massive and slim, can be dropped. Shit happens, on occasion. He, Cassidy, had changed address multiple times. Usually, it was a voluntary adjustment. Leaving home. Upsizing. Downsizing.

More than once – twice is more than once – it hadn't entirely been his choice.

The mirror he'd thought was perfectly clean wasn't. There was a mark. Something only seen by a random glance of light from his watch face and his position leaning slightly forward, blocking any other light out. Cassidy was disappointed. It was only a smudge, like the oil from the side of a sweaty hand., but it tainted something he'd unconsciously taken to signify he could cleanse his life. If a mirror, hanging forgotten in a wardrobe probably older than Cass himself, could remain spotless, then there could be hope. The blemish was a stain on his optimism. A darkness that, if left unchecked, could spread and consume him.

In the centre of the mirror, written in a deep red substance that could have been Sharpie, lipstick or blood, was a single word.


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