David E Anderson – Author

I was a firm believer in the idea that if you pictured your desires, you could manifest them into reality. And for the last two years, since I’d been a high school sophomore, I had fervently pictured April Nielson by my side.

She was a fiery red-haired beauty who’d been dating a guy a grade above us, but the relationship ended when he went off to college. So at the top of our senior year, I made my move.

This would be our third date, what many referred to as the “sex date”. I was picking her up for a nine o’clock movie at the Horizon Six, the premiere of a new horror flick. Date number two had ended with some serious second base action, which had been glorious. I hoped it left her wanting even more, as it had for me.

I stood before my bedroom mirror, meticulously adjusting the collar on my dress shirt, and practicing some charming smiles. I retrieved a condom from a dresser drawer – just in case – tucking it in my shirt pocket.

I pictured us in my car after the flick, and decided to rehearse what I would say.

“April, you know I’ve liked you for a long time…” I was in love with her, to tell the truth, but didn’t want to spring the L-word on her quite yet. 

“I’d never try to push you into doing anything you don’t want, but…” No, that sounded feeble.

“I just think you’re so incredible, and wonder what you think about our taking things to the next level.” Not bad.

In the mirror, I conjured an image of April blushing and biting her lip, knowing exactly what I had in mind. I pictured her opening her mouth to say…

“HA HA HA!” Her mouth opened unnaturally wide, and her once flowing hair transformed into

a garish red wig with frizzy curls. Her complexion turned ghostly pale, the color of pure white makeup. 

She’d turned into a goddamn clown. I had no idea why my imagination had taken this dark turn without my consent.

I shook my head like I was trying to erase an etch-a-sketch in my mind.

I looked back into the mirror and pictured April as her authentic and beautiful self, seated beside me in my parents’ car. “Oh, Corey,” she whispered, placing her hand on my knee. “I really like you, too. And I’ve been thinking the same. In fact…”

Then, like a nightmare come to life, the clown reappeared. Its features were like April’s, same seductive mouth and same almond-shaped eyes, but obscured by the bulbous red nose and frilly wig. “Say your goodbyes to April! She’s mine, you fool! Mine!” The clown cackled like a maniac, sending shivers down my spine.

Jesus Christ, what was happening? I’d only been conjuring mental images, yet the clown stood beside me in the mirror, its arm draped casually around my neck. I could feel the phantom weight resting on my shoulder, but when I tried to push it away, my hand met nothing.

I glanced back at the mirror, and the clown had vanished, leaving behind a reflection of myself with panic in my eyes. I reached out and lifted the mirror off the hooks, flipping it around and leaning it against the wall.

Maybe the idea of asking April to sleep with me was messing with my mind. I’d been on dates, but had never been with a girl, not all the way. Perhaps I was worried about how I’d perform my first time.

I considered calling off the date, but refused to be the kind of guy who bails on a girl at the last minute. I couldn’t tell her the truth, but figured if I lied to her, she’d suspect something. She wasn’t naive.

I went downstairs and said goodbye to my parents. My mom asked if I was all right, noticing I was frazzled, and I just attributed it to pre-date jitters.

I got into the family’s Pontiac and put it in reverse to back out of the driveway. The sun had already set, leaving a faint glow in the sky. Backing out, I glanced into the side mirror and was met with the clown’s bulbous nose and glaring eyes. I panicked and accidentally slammed on the accelerator, shooting the car backwards into the street before I managed to slam on the brakes, stopping just short of taking out a neighbor’s mailbox.

I threw the car into drive and set off down the street, flipping up the overhead rearview mirror to remove it from my line of sight, and positioning the side mirrors so they were similarly invisible to me. Not something my driving instructor would have approved of, but it beat having that damn imaginary clown startle me into crashing. It had appeared real, but was undoubtedly the result of my overactive imagination.

When I arrived at April’s, I parked on the street and took a minute to steady my nerves before heading up and ringing the doorbell. Her dad answered the door and shook my hand. “Hey, Corey. Come on in.”

We engaged in a bit of small talk, while Mrs. Nielson went upstairs to let April know I was here. April’s dad was a cop, definitely the kind of man who could be intimidating, but he seemed to like me a lot.

After a few minutes, I heard someone enter the living room and turned, expecting to see April. But it was her mom, wringing her hands. “I can’t find April.”

“She’s not in her room?” asked Mr. Nielson. “Did you check the bathroom?”

“I checked everywhere. I don’t know where she is. I would call her, but her phone’s on her dresser. She never goes anywhere without her phone, so where is she?”

“April!” Her dad’s voice thundered through the house. Getting no response, he opened the patio door and shouted her name into the night. He turned to me, his face etched with concern. “She didn’t mention going anywhere before the date, did she?”

“No,” I said. “She didn’t say anything. When did you see her last?”

“About a half hour ago, maybe?” said her mom, her worry mounting. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation and she’ll be just fine, but…I mean, how could somebody have gotten in and grabbed her or anything?”

A chilling realization washed over me. It defied all reason, but deep down, I knew. That damned clown wasn’t a mere illusion. And it wasn’t just in my mirror.

I sprinted up the stairs as Mr. Nielsen called after me. I found April’s room, found the mirror standing atop her dresser.

Though I could see her bedroom reflected in the mirror, my own reflection was curiously absent. Instead, I could see the reflections of two others. April’s, and her doppelganger clown’s. One of its twisted arms was wrapped around April’s trembling form. April’s eyes locked with mine, silently pleading for help. The clown’s other arm held a butcher knife to her delicate throat.

With a sinister grin, the clown rested its head on April’s shoulder.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Corey!” yelled a voice, but it wasn’t the clown. Mr. Nielson had entered the room and was calling to me. “What in God’s name is going on?”

I gestured towards the mirror. “Do you see it?”

He stepped forward and looked into the mirror. “See what?”

“Mr. Nielson, you have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” he scoffed.

Lirpa stuck out their tongue at Mr. Nielsen.

“April’s in there,” I said, pointing. “She’s trapped inside the mirror.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“But it’s true. Something’s got her. I’ve been seeing it myself.”

Mr. Nielsen sighed, his frustration evident. “Corey, I don’t know what kind of sick joke you’re playing, but…”

Mrs. Nielson entered the room. “Kurt, I think we need to listen to him.”

“Listen to what? He’s saying our daughter is trapped inside that goddamn mirror!”

“Kurt, please, stop,” she implored. “April told me something strange was happening. That she was seeing something in the mirror. Hallucinations, she thought. She didn’t want me to tell you, because of how you worry. But…” She turned to me. “Corey, this thing you’re seeing. Is it a clown?”

I nodded. “It’s a clown, and it looks like April.”

“Oh, give me a break,” said Mr. Nielson. “Is this some kind of twisted prank? Because it ends right now!”

“Mr. Nielson,” I said. “If you aren’t going to help, then get the hell out of this room.”

He stepped backwards, like I’d slapped him. “What did you just say to me?”

Mrs. Nielson firmly grabbed her husband’s arm, pulling him towards the door. She looked at me with a resolute gaze. “Corey, do whatever you need to do.” Her husband muttered protests, but did as his wife commanded as she pulled him out of the room and closed the door.

I turned to the mirror, my heart pounding, and still unsure what, if anything, I could do to save April. The clown was looking to its side, like it had watched their exit from the room, but it turned to face me, its face twisting into a wide, tooth-baring grin.

April had tears rolling down her face. She’d seen her parents, and surely suspected it could be for the final time.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“I want to have some fun,” the clown said, its high-pitched voice dripping with delight. “I want you to join us in the mirror. I want to witness your anguish when I slit her throat.” The clown made a mock frowny face, with blubbering sounds.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am Lirpa. Lirpa. Get it?” The clown chuckled.

“I don’t. I’m sorry. I…” Then I did. Lirpa. April spelled backwards. “Okay, you want me to join you. How do I join you?”

“Simply step through,” Lirpa said, and reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding the knife. It came through the mirror, into the room. “It’s time for us to play a little game. Do you enjoy games, Corey? Because I have such a fun one in mind.”

I looked at April, who still had the knife to her throat. She was looking at me, but then her gaze drifted up. I could see a serious expression in her eyes. She was trying to tell me something. But what? I was afraid to look up, worried that it would reveal whatever April had in mind. Instead I looked up into the mirror’s image.

The room she was in was a mirror reflection of this room. I could see her bed, the wall, the window, and, most importantly, the light fixture on the ceiling. It was the light she was looking at.

Lirpa was merely a reflection, and reflections can’t exist without light.

On her dresser was a hardcover book, a thick Stephen King novel she’d been engrossed in. I pretended to reach for the clown’s protruding hand, but instead veered toward the novel. I grabbed it, raised it, and smashed it into the lighting fixture.

“No!” I heard Lirpa yell, but its cry abruptly stopped when the room went completely dark.

The window was covered with blackout curtains, as April had told me she couldn’t sleep at night unless she had complete darkness. Even moonlight coming through her window kept her awake.

“Now, April!” I shouted. The next thing I knew, April collided with me, as I was still standing before the mirror as she’d leapt through it. We both fell onto her bed, but I scrambled out from under her and, still clutching the novel, smashed it against the mirror and kept smashing and smashing until the glass lay in a heap on her dresser and the floor.

“Is it gone?” April asked, sounding out of breath.

“Gotta be. Mirror’s gone, so it’s gone.”

“Let’s get out of here,” said April, her voice filled with relief.

“You still want to go on our date?” 

“Absolutely. In fact, Corey, I was kind of hoping…you know…third date?”

I laughed. “Let’s get out of here. Which way’s the door, again?”

She chuckled, taking my hand as she rose from the bed. “This way, Romeo.” She headed towards the door, then stopped abruptly. “Ow!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Stepped on a piece of broken glass. Dammit.”

I had shoes on, so didn’t have to worry about that, and we finally made it into the hallway, where her parents waited. Relief washed over them as they embraced their daughter tightly.

“Oh, Thank God,” said her dad. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Mostly. I got a piece of glass in my foot. Can you help?”

She lifted her foot, showing them a rectangular piece of mirror glass about two inches long. She gasped when her dad yanked it out.

Once her foot was bandaged, her folks tried to talk her into skipping the movie premiere, but April had none of it, and a few minutes later, we were in my car. April obviously noticed how the mirrors were turned, but didn’t say anything. I imagine she felt relief.

After the movie, she and I ended up in a lot of a public park that was dark and  deserted. We retreated to the backseat, embarking on a bit of intimacy, with her sitting on my lap, facing me.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. “But first, there’s one thing you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

“That piece of mirror glass that was in my foot? I looked at it before my dad pulled it out, and saw Lirpa in it.”

“No need to worry. I assume your dad threw it away.”

“He did,  but…” Her voice trailed off uneasily.

“But what?”

“Lirpa wasn’t in it after he pulled it out,” she said. “Only before.”

“What are you saying?”

My mouth went dry when her expression morphed into a wide, tooth-baring grin.