The Hall of Mirrors
I was young when my parents died in a tragic accident and left me and my brother alone in the world.
After they passed my brother and I neglected the estate, our once grand, luxurious home soon became a hollow house of crumbling corridors filled with cobwebs. There was only one spot of the entire estate we bothered to maintain, The Hall of Mirrors. It was a large room, with walls made of ancient mirrors that shone strangely even in the absence of light. It had always been my mother’s favorite room.
Thusly, it was the only room in the house that held some remnants of joy, some glimmer of happiness long lost; soon it became common for us to dine in the glimmering room.
It was during one of these bland meals that I observed my reflection, my blonde hair was frizzled and my blue eyes were stained with tears. Those eyes had once been the source of my name; they had once sparkled so brightly that my mother had insisted they name me Andromeda, after the sparkling Andromeda Galaxy.
But now they seldom sparkled, they only wept. They wept for the lives that had been lost that fateful day when God had called my parents home. How God could ever leave a child and his elder sister alone to fend for themselves, I never understood.
I was barely a teenager and now I had to take care of my little brother. My parent’s deaths affected my brother even more than me, as evidenced by his dreadful reflection. His heart was broken in such a way that I doubted it could ever be healed. I yearned for a way to ease his pain.
Then she came. She came suddenly, as if in answer to my silent prayer for my brothers healing. I saw her, a terrifying, beastly creature and although she was human in form she was not so in actions. Her wild gold hair flew outward in all directions and although she attacked my brother it was I she looked at, never taking her dangerous blue eyes off me.
My brother screamed my name, “Andromeda! Andromeda!” He cried. But it was as though I was dreaming, I wanted to stop her but I couldn’t.
She slammed his head against the floor and blood trickled down his face. He cried out for her to stop but she wouldn’t, she had a job to do and would see that it was done. She slammed his head several more times against the marble floor and his screaming was eventually silenced. His blood splashed up against the mirror.
Wait-The Mirror? I froze and so did she. She ran a bloodied hand through her tangled locks and so did I. Every move I made, no matter how slight, the killer mimicked. My blood ran cold.
My reflection. I had watched my reflection kill my brother. But reflections can’t kill people, I thought. I felt sick. Had I killed my brother? I was shaking and crying but I couldn’t stop staring at the mirror, at my bloodied reflection.
I saw my brother’s corpse in the mirror too; I saw the blood dripping off his face in a steady rhythm. The liquid made strange patterns on the floor, like a design painted on it by some demented artist. The sound of the blood falling echoed horribly against the glass walls, a revolting sound, like a melody composed by the devil himself. Drip-drip. Drip-drip. Guil-ty. Guil-ty. Guilty!
The word echoed horribly in my mind, “No,” I screeched at the polished and blood splattered glass. “No! You did this, not I!” The reflection in turn accused me.
I put up my hands to my ears to block the sound of the blood, but I couldn’t stop looking at the mirror. Even when I closed my eyes, the hideous image stayed with me, haunting me, and plunging me into a feeling of indescribable agony. I beat my hands against the glass, smearing the blood in odd patterns, distorting my reflection, making it look even more beast like. “No! No!”
I was frantic; I fear all my sanity had fled from my mind, “You did this! You killed him!” The mirror echoed back my words and any glimmer of sanity left in my soul vanished. I threw myself at the mirror, desperate to avenge my brother’s death, desperate to destroy his murderer. The glass shattered and the many pointed shards pierced my body. I fell to the floor and my blood mingled with that of my brothers. Now the blood-patterns on the floor seemed strangely beautiful.
I smiled softly at the swirling sea of red, for even though I knew I was dying, I was content. I had destroyed the beast that killed my brother.
This November we want to know your plan to survive the Zombie Apocalypse. Tell us where you’d go, how you’d survive and who you’d take with you all in 200 words or less. The winning plan will receive a Zombie Survival prize pack including; The Zombie Survival Guide and a Zombie Survival Kit Lunchbox. Our team of not-Zombie library workers will judge all the entries and announce a winner by December 16th. But be quick you only have until November 30th to submit your plan.
If you have a pulse, check out some of these books about Zombies. If you don’t…stay away from the library.
The winner of the 6 Word Memoir contest is (drum roll, please)….
“I have something to fight for.”
Choosing the best 6 Word Memoir was extremely difficult and our panel of judges felt that there were more than a few 6 word memoirs that deserved some extra attention (in which we give them the undeniably wonderful prize of being mentioned on the blog – don’t you feel famous!).
These 6 Word Memoirs have grabbed the award for best confidence. You’re awesome, but you already know that don’t you.
“Way too amazing for six words.”
“I am the most awesome kid.”
“I am a very smart girl.”
“I can write very good memoirs.”
The following 6 Word Memoirs are nominated for the deepest and most soul searching. You don’t need a prize – your prize is speaking what’s in your heart.
“I am simply striving for success.”
“Better to feel pain than nothing.”
“Your yesterday will mirror my tomorrow.”
“Life goes on, no matter what.”
“I am unashamed of the Gospel.” (Romans 1:16)
This honorable mention goes to the two memoirs that mentioned books. (We are librarians, after all.)
“Great books can keep me flying.”
“Dogs art nails shoes books friends”
Finally this mention goes to the 6 Word Memoir that made us giggle. We don’t know what it’s about (other than Kevin Bacon), but we liked it anyway!
“bacon bacon bacon bacon Kevin Bacon.”
If you didn’t see your 6 Word Memoir on this post, have no fear your chance for fame and glory will come again. Our Teen Writing Contest is happening now, but you only have until October 31st to submit your 1,000 word short story. If your 6 words were awesome, just imagine how awesome 1,000 could be.
Thanks to all the teens who participated in a our “How Bacon Changed My Life Contest”. We had entries that made us cry, entries that made us laugh and entries that made us cry again (mostly because we were laughing so hard), but our winning entry comes straight from the heart. This brief paragraph on how bacon changed Megan’s life was too moving not to win.
Bacon really changed my life when I became a “Bacon Farmer.” I grew up on a farm and had cats and dogs always a clover bud until I turned nine. And every 4-Her knows that turning the big nine means. It means that your finally a “big kid” a real 4-Her. I knew as soon as I turned nine I was going to show livestock. After much debating and negotiating with my father we finally decided on hogs. Hogs changed my life. It’s not about just showing. You have to raise these animals from start to finish. You have to know about the animals. As a diabetic I was also shocked to find out that hogs also produce insulin that I use to keep my blood sugars under control. But raising hogs has made me the person I am today. I’m more responsible and grown up. And I provide healthy good quality bacon to all bacon loving people out there.
Now for our honorable mentions. Although we can’t give a prize to every entry, we felt that these last two deserved a bit of attention.
Creative countess and blog post scribe? (Okay maybe not a REAL countess, but who cares.)
I live for hot bacon mornings? (Too true. Too true.)
Morning is my nemesis, so evil. (So evil, it is eviillll. I’m tormented because bacon is a breakfast food.)
The challenge is on. Submit your six word memoir to our new teen contest for a chance to win a copy of I Can’t Keep My Own Secrets: Six Word Memoirs by Teens Famous and Obscure by Larry Smith and some magnetic poetry. Maybe my mornings wouldn’t be so bad with a little poetry hanging on my fridge.
Looking for that perfect birthday gift? Need to apologize to your girlfriend? Hoping to win over your teacher? Or maybe you just need a little pick me up. Nothing says love like the gift of bacon.
Go ahead. Picture a bunch of bacon sizzling on a griddle. The russet textures cooking to bacony perfection right before your eyes. Too much awesome for your imagination to handle? Then take a gander at this beautiful work of photography.
Can’t you just feel the love?
During the month of August we are giving away a generous bacon prize pack filled with a bacon wallet, bacon air freshener and more bacony goodness. It is our way of showing love and a great opportunity for you to re-gift these bacon prizes to the loved one of your choice. …Or you could keep them for yourself (I would if I could win). All you have to do is submit a few short words on how bacon changed your life. Our super intelligent computer will select a winner at random from all the entries.
Need some inspiration? Take a look at some books on bacon recipes. Just please, use a napkin. You’re drooling.
Identify the objects in these photos and you’ll be entered into a drawing to win a bubblewrap keychain! Enter as often as you’d like. New photos to guess each week. Photos for Week 4.
Identify the objects in these photos and you’ll be entered into a drawing to win a bubblewrap keychain! Enter as often as you’d like. New photos to guess each week. I Know You Are Contest Week 2.