Anne was sweet, for a teenager. She was kind, smart, funny, beautiful, everything that you'd want a child to be.

However, she was vain.

Whether she was at home, or miles away, she had to have a mirror with her. But she wasn't a typical self centered model type of person; she was insecure about her urges to pull out a mirror every three seconds just to gaze upon the reflection.

So she carried the hand mirror her grandmother gave her before she passed away. It had a silver handle that had the words The true reflection is something you usually don't see. 

Anne didn't really like her granny, she was always so mean. A nasty person really. But who would guess?

But her grandma would always say "There are mirrors that know you more than you know yourself" and give her a green. toothy grin. She said it so often that Anne got to watch as the grin turned brown and silver. It never left her mind.

At age 87, the old hag died of lung cancer, exactly at midnight

If she were alive today, she would have been 100 years old Anne thought. She was gazing into her mosl favourite mirror that she got at the antique shop. It's frame was decorated by gold branches that bore little golden clocks like fruit.

The girl in the mirror looked back at her with shimmering blue eyes, admiring bouncy, black curls. What a delicate little flower.

With one last glance at herself, she turned around, and quietly walked to her bed.

She got herself to sleep in the usual way. By listening to the tick, tick, ticks of the little clocks.

Tick,

Tick,

Tick,

Tick,

Tick,

Thunk.

Anne shot up in an instant, to find that all of her clocks have stopped. So naturally, she made her way to the mirror. And almost screamed.

The girl in the mirror was changing. The nails grew like tree branches, and her hair seemed to squeeze out of her scalp, like a meat grinder. Snowy skin turned a sickly shade of gray. Her mouth opened like a bloody blister and teeth fell like raindrops.

Anne took a step back, covering her mouth. The girl let out a gurgling laugh and stepped forward.

And Anne lost it, picking up a chair, and smashing every mirror.

Seconds after, she stood panting. Two mirrors left. Her favourite, and her grandma's. She grabbed the hand mirror and smashed it against a wall.

The girl in the mirror was Anne again. And the mirror who knew her the most? 

The pieces were never put back together again,