I’d always been afraid of mirrors
Not in the normal way that most Americans scurry past their reflection at night, but in a senseless, terrified way. When I was nine, I stopped looking at my reflection almost completely, terrified that it might be a stranger. When I brushed my teeth, I always did so with my back facing the medicine cabinet that held the mirror, I also rushed through showers or anything else involving the restroom. My fear remained a secret until I was ten years old, playing Truth or Dare with my longtime best friend. I mistakenly chickened of a dare out and chose Truth.
“What’s your biggest fear?” Tasha asked.
I contemplated lying to her. It’s only Tasha, I thought. I’m sure her biggest fear is just as silly. So I told her.
“What?” she laughed. “You’re such a freak, Charlotte oh my God!” She kept laughing and I snapped. “It’s not that funny!” I stormed off.
The next Monday, everyone at my school knew about it. Tasha had told everyone my secret because I had lashed out at her. I didn’t worry very much because I thought my classmates would forget within a week, but a week went by. Then two weeks. Then a month. Then two months.
Approximately ten weeks after my secret was let out I sat in my school desk, drawing an elephant to pass time. By then, most teasing had stopped, so I thought I had nothing to worry about when I rushed to the bathroom at the sound of the lunch bell.
I was so occupied with counting the tiles in front of me that I failed to notice Tasha and two girls whom I didn’t know well following me. When I opened the bathroom door, the two girls rushed in and shut off the lights while Tasha, my old friend, held the door closed tight. They grabbed my face and forced me to look at my reflection while laughing and chanting “Bloody Mary.” I started to cry and scream but they didn’t release me until a teacher opened the door.
“What in God’s name is going on in here?” Mrs. Meyers yelled. The girls froze and I could hear Tasha’s footsteps sprinting away.
“Uh nothing,” the thin blonde girl said. “We were just playing a game, right Charlotte?”
I didn’t want to get in trouble, and I certainly wanted the bullying to stop so
I shook my head yes.
Mrs. Meyers looked unconvinced. “Well,” she said, “All three of you need to get to lunch immediately and quiet down. Next time I’m sending you all to the principal’s office and phoning your parents.”

That night, I decided to do something about my irrational phobia. I was tired of having to look away from mirrors in school restrooms, clothing stores, even my own bathroom and hallway and most of all, I was tired of being a “freak”. I looked up Ways to reverse phobias online. After approximately an hour of searching the web, I finally found a helpful website.
The site contained an old legend that said “those who fear their reflection only fear themselves. And therefore fear what they are capable of” It went on to say that people with phobias similar to mine had killed someone, or done something equally horrific in their past lives. It said that the only way to cure the fear was to take your weakness, allergy, or something that makes you ill and hold it in front of a mirror. If your reflection stands still then you are safe and cured. But if it shies away or moves, you’re done for. No one knows what happens to those unlucky few. Just gone without a trace.
Being a superstitious person, I decided to give it a try. The next morning my allergies were acting up so I picked flowers filled with pollen from my yard after my mom left.
I took a deep breath as I walked to the full length mirror outside my parent’s bedroom and held the flowers in front of me. I looked at myself for a while and noticed things that I hadn’t before. Freckles, zits, bruises on my elbows. Focus, I thought. I tried to resist the urge to sneeze or cough.
Thankfully, I did.
I let out a sigh of relief and walked to the couch. I was cured. I was invincible. I was no longer a freak.
I was so relieved that I almost didn’t hear the loud sneeze come from the hallway and the laughter that followed.