Face the Mirror and Ask

 

I looked at the mirror today after having washed my face and for the longest time, gazed into my eyes, and I asked it, "Who am I? Am I you? Or are you me?" Upon questioning my own reflection, my peripherals narrowed till there was only me and the mirror, standing in a bright and spacious room, cold and hollow. 

Am I you or are you me? We asked each other but neither could answer. The question repeated until a word bubble grew from the right side of my head and out in large fonts, the words are spelled.

Pop! The word bubble separated from my head and hovered over me, taunting me and the mirror and the me that stood on the other side of it; it has become a transparent wall-- the mirror. It must have happened while the word balloon shroomed out of my head. Funny word,'shroomed' and the moment I thought of those fungus, the words fell at my feet like little mushrooms in Super Mario World. 

I started laughing.

 

 

The curtains suddenly opened and there stood my nephew in his underwear, "Uncle!" he started with a complicated look on his face, "Were you crying or laughing? You sounded really creepy!"

 

I cleared my throat, picked up my nephew and swung him around, imitating the sound of a jet plane. 

 

One last glance and I saw myself in the other side of the mirror, crying. I wanted to ask it, "Are you me or am I you?" but my little nephew will catch a cold if I don't find him his clothes; the nannies have gone and we're all alone again.

 

Before I closed the door to the bathroom, I thought I heard my brother's voice, faint and low, "No ... it's me."