MARIAN E. WRIGHT WRITING CENTER

Serving students and faculty since 1971

There were already stains on the carpet when Shawn arrived at the motel earlier that evening, but this new one stood out. He could see it clearly in the reflection of the mirror…that, and the lifeless woman lying next to it. A rivulet of red seeped out from the bullet wound in her neck, and the lingering scent of her perfume gave way to a dull metallic miasma. He turned and took a step towards her, but the sight made his stomach curdle. He fixed his gaze back on the mirror, where a silent man returned the stare.

“Jesus Christ, what’ve you done to her…”

The man in the mirror said nothing. Shawn stumbled over to the nightstand and grabbed the half empty bottle of rum, hoping it would steady his thoughts. Instead, it made his head spin more wildly. The haze of the moment still hung heavy in his mind; one second they were arguing, the next she was shot, young life spilling out of her. And as she laid there choking on her final breaths, the man in the mirror looked back at Shawn, quietly watching….

Shawn turned from the desk to see the man still staring at him through the glass. Anxiety began to creep in. He could hear police sirens in the distance, drawing closer by the second. In a panic, he cried out.

“Why? Why did you do this? What the hell is wrong with you?”

The sirens grew louder. A red-and-blue light show danced across the walls of the room, and Shawn’s mind began to race. He’d never be able to convince them that it wasn’t him, that it was the psychopath in the mirror who’d killed her. That mute son of a bitch, staring back at him with empty eyes.

“You sick bastard, say something! Tell them it wasn’t me!”

The reflection of the bloodied pistol on the bed caught Shawn’s eye. Just then he heard a car screech to a stop outside, then another. His ears were ringing. He looked at the man in the mirror, who nodded back at him. Shawn picked up the pistol and pushed it against his temple.

A flash, a bang.

A lifeless body giving way to gravity.

And the silent man in the mirror, turning his back to the room, and walking away.