There was only one door down this hallway, and it stood at the very end of it.
I turned to go back the way I came when I hesitated. I was already down here—if I really wanted a tour of the school, then I might as well check out the rooms I’d never visited before.
I began to walk towards the far door. My footsteps echoed along the hall, and I heard a small splash as I stepped into a puddle along the cobblestone floor.
I came up to the wood and wrought iron door, reluctant to go any further. My pulse sped up as I wrapped my hand around the iron handle. I tugged. Locked.
Of course it was. The school wouldn’t just leave their doors unlocked for students like me to come traipsing through.
I dropped my hand and stepped away from the door, not sure why I felt disappointed.
The door made a screeching sound, and I put a hand to my mouth as it swung open of its own accord. Beyond it, the room was cast in darkness.
I’m not going to go into the spooky room. I’m not.
I took a step forward, and then another. Once I crossed the threshold, the room lit up.
What I saw took my breath away. Crystal chandeliers hung over my head. A gilded mural was painted directly onto the ceiling. But that wasn’t even the most fantastical part. A series of mirrors ran down the length of the room. I stood inside a hall of mirrors.
Once I regained my bearings, I wandered further into the room. Behind me the door swung shut. I dearly hoped it didn’t just lock me in.
I walked up to the first mirror. My reflection stared back at me.
Why was a hall of mirrors located on a subterranean floor of Peel Castle? It was beautiful, but it made no sense why the gorgeous room would be relegated to such an unvisited area of the building.
The air above my reflection coalesced into a message: Welcome to the Hall of Perception.
I staggered back and the words disappeared.
I moved to the next mirror. Spider-web wrinkles formed around my eyes and lips and along my forehead.
I brought my hand up to my face. The skin beneath my fingers felt smooth and unblemished. Meanwhile my reflection’s wrinkles deepened and the skin along my face sagged. Bags formed under my eyes and the skin became discolored, and my eyes rheumy. Within a minute my reflection was an old woman.
The mirrors in this room were enchanted.
In the next mirror I saw myself as an adult. Behind my reflection the room had vanished. In its place was a suburban house. A child ran up to my reflection and tugged on her leg. My reflection turned away from me and knelt in front of the boy. She reached out and grasped his hands and I caught a glimpse of a wedding ring. Beyond her a man I didn’t recognize came out of the house and appeared to call out to her. Whoever he was, he wasn’t Andre. My reflection smiled and the little boy ran into the man’s arms.
The three of them together looked . . . wrong. I’d never have kids, never just live in suburbia—I may never even be as open and content as my reflection looked. Not to mention that I couldn’t imagine myself with someone who wasn’t Andre. He was the only guy who’d managed to get past all of my boundaries.
I broke away from this mirror and moved to the next. Within this mirror, my skin glowed. I took one step and then another towards the radiant girl in the mirror, intoxicated by her appearance. I touched the cool glass, and our hands met. This must be what people saw when the siren came out. Not even I could completely resist it.
Reluctantly I left this reflection. All the mirrors appeared to show alternate perceptions of reality. One showed how I would age—though I’d never get the chance thanks to my genes. Another showed a mundane but happy life, which I’d also never get to experience. And the last mirror showed what I looked like as a siren.
In the next mirror Andre stood behind me and wrapped his arms around me. My reflection smiled to herself; she looked mischievous as she turned to face him. The most startling thing about this version of me was how blissful she appeared. Did I look like that when I was around Andre?
My gaze flicked to the vampire holding me in the mirror, and my breath caught in my throat. It wasn’t his beauty that captured my attention, but how he gazed at the girl in his arms. I’d seen him wear that particular expression, but never as an outsider. That was true love.
I watched them for a bit, but as soon as they started making out, I left the mirror—watching them at that point felt a little too creepy.
I wondered what a room like this could be used for. Predicting the future? Seeing and understanding all sides of yourself better?
Other than the eerie way my reflections acted independently from me, this hall of perception was kind of neat. At least it was until I stepped up to the next mirror.