Nathan Philip Guest

Hello neighbor. How are you? I’m fine thanks. I’m just encircling you as I always do, though during the day you can’t usually see me. During the night however, depending on the time of the month I may be anything from a sliver, to a full and bright ace, beaming at you with delight, and even on some days that face is still there, beaming at you with delight but my shadow covers it up. I must say that I really like you, we’ve been friends for quite awhile and will continue to be so for a long, long time, but one day, when we are both much older, I might just stop encircling you and collide with your most perfect blue and green face, though I imagine it won’t be so perfect then, and all the things that you love won’t be as bountiful on it as they are now. If they are, then I feel sorry for them and apologize in advance, because I wish no harm, these things just happen when things grow old. But you and I are still relatively young and I that’s a blessing, because I wouldn’t know what to do without you, my earth, just as you wouldn’t know what to do without me, your moon.

(Author’s Note: This is based off of the Japanese folk tale The Mirror of Matsuyama, which I then modified some, modernized, and added my own twist to.)

In the secluded, rural parts of southern Indiana lived a happily married, but poor couple, a provider, and a caretaker, who had only bore one child together, the most precious and beautiful daughter anyone could wish for. One day the provider of the family had to leave for the city of Indianapolis in hopes to sell some of the new craft they had finished, making a promise to the dutiful caretaker that gifts would be brought back to honor them in ways that they had never dreamed of, and that their precious daughter would only receive her gift, that she would immensely enjoy, if she behaved in the way that only a proper daughter could behave during one of her guardian’s leave of absence. Upon acceptance from both, the provider left for the great city and would return days later.

Upon the provider’s return and hearing of the status report from the wife, gifts were presented to both. The daughter received a box of baked goods from some local bakeries in downtown Indianapolis, along with another box of chocolates from the South Bend Chocolate Co., which had the best chocolates in town. The caretaker on the other hand received a brand new mirror of intricate design that the provider had found at one of the local Wicca gift shops. The provider instructed the caretaker of the so-called powers of this mirror and asked to treat it as if taking care of their precious daughter, since it would be the provider’s one and only gift for a long while.

The caretaker loved the darling little mirror that the provider had given as a gift and took care of it as if it were another child of their’s. Looking upon its polished surface, it never dulled, and always reflected back the smiling, beautiful, and caring visage of the caretaker. Each time it was put up it was wrapped in soft velvet in order to protect its surface and to always keep it looking new.

One day however, the caretaker began to have headaches and would frequently look in the mirror to look upon the visage that gave comfort, because it never changed, because no matter how the caretaker looked, the mirror visage was always the same as the first day it was received. The visage of the caretaker was always smiling, beautiful, and caring within the mirror, no matter what it looked like without.

The day finally came where the caretaker passed on, and the provider and daughter fell into a long period of grieving, and the daughter had been given the mirror as a gift to remember the caretaker. Months passed until the grieving left, at least for the provider; for a new caretaker had been stumbled upon, and they had married not long after.

The new caretaker resembled much of the first one, but always looked pristine and never realistic, and because of this the daughter thought of the caretaker as false and never accepted the change while also longing for the old caretaker. Also because of this, the daughter was always treated harshly for her attitudes towards the new caretaker instead of treated with sympathy, which only added on to the conflict between the two.

The daughter would look into the little mirror many times a day, usually to the frustration of the new caretaker, and she would do so because she only saw the reflection of the original caretaker and couldn’t resist the addiction that staring upon it so many times brought on.

Finally, the new caretaker had had enough and cornered the weeping and scared daughter when she refused to hand over the mirror. The new caretaker was able to wrench the mirror out of the child’s hands and finally took a look at the visage within the mirror.

Horror crept upon the caretaker’s face as the visage that stared back was not the visage of the present, but of the past, when the caretaker was more loving, and sacrificed less of the quality time they once shared in order to become lost in the mirror’s reflection.

The caretaker released an unearthly growl from the depths of the soul and launched the mirror into the nearest wall, shattering it. Finally pleased, the caretaker left the room to a very distraught daughter weeping in the corner.

The daughter slowly crawled to the ruins of the mirror and saw nothing being reflected back in the shattered glass. Her loving caretaker, one of her beloved guardians, who she thought she once knew, was gone forever, and nothing was left to remind them of what the caretaker once was.