The only sound was the gentle clicking of the keys on the laptop computer as Teagan typed a message on the instant messenger to Kristin. But, the bobbing head and the earphones told that other sounds were present, and the Bleeding Love Liona Lewis at the top of the IM screen told what that sound was. A few more taps and Teagan yawned, then fingered out, "I’m sleepy – off to bed Kris." She signed out, put the laptop to sleep and slid it off onto the bed beside her, then took a deep breath.
Tomorrow, she thought. Paper due in English, quiz in Chemistry and that stupid movie in Social Studies. She shook her head, slid over to the edge of the bed and stood up. She stretched and glanced at herself in the double-wide full length mirror on the closet doors at the end of the bed. Not bad, she thought, then did a quick double take. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. She could feel her heart beginning to pound. What was it that she was seeing? She quickly turned and looked behind her. Nothing there except the wall and the bulletin board. Quickly she looked back at the mirror. They were still there. Those little brown faces with the big ears and the strange green eyes. She felt herself shiver.
Slowly she walked toward the mirror, watching her own image get larger and larger. The small figures moved to the side, just like they were trying to keep her from blocking their image. What was going out? Was she going insane? She was having trouble breathing. She stopped about three feet from the mirror and suddenly started. All of the little faces were looking at her and smiling. Quickly she looked behind her again but there was nothing there. And now a thin finger was beckoning. Was she going to die - were they coming after her? She quickly opened the closet door but there was nothing behind it but . . . clothes and shoes. Slowly she swung the door shut, her eyes closed. When she opened them, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, they were waving at her. Waving for her to . . . to . . . come and join them?
Now she was both terrified and fascinated. She was obviously going crazy if, indeed, she was not already there. But, what was happening? Her heart raced even faster. And one of the figures was gesturing and pointing. But, what did he want? As she watched the small figure pushed a pointed finger toward her until it looked like it was against the surface of the mirror. Now, he looked at her again and smiled, a big toothy smile. What did he want? Then, a light began to dawn. Slowly she moved a trembling finger toward the mirror, toward that small finger that seemed to want to touch her. Her finger touched the mirror, only it wasn’t cold and hard as a mirror should be. It was soft and warm, like the end of a finger.
She wanted to scream, to run, to jerk her finger back . . . but she was frozen there, almost like she was physically attached to that finger on the other side of the mirror. Then, that little finger moved, as though he was withdrawing it from the glass. And, to her horror, she realized that her finger had followed his and was now completely within the surface of the mirror. It was over. She was crazy and maybe even dead. What had happened? She was physically shaking but somehow strangely in awe of what was happening. Perhaps she was asleep and just dreaming. Of course, that was it. But, it was certainly the most real dream she had ever encountered. Every sense was alive and tingling. It was surreal.
She hesitated but knew she had to do it. Those strangely entrancing green eyes in that wonderfully brown little face held her enthralled. She gently squeezed her eyes shut and pushed her arm forward. Everything felt normal and even the warm touch on the end of her finger remained. Slowly she opened on eye and peeked. Her arm was through the mirror to her elbow and the little brown hand was grasping her finger and tugging as he beckoned her with his other hand. If the arm could go through, could . . . ? OH MY GOSH! she thought. What will happen if it . . . can I get . . . will I be . . . Her mind wouldn’t allow her to finish the questions. Deep breaths, she thought. More deep breaths. Then, quickly she thrust her head straight at the mirror expecting a sudden jolt. Instead there was only the wonderful odor of flowers and the sound of beautiful singing.
"Hello," said a rich and very deep voice, totally out of place when she looked at its source. "I’m Hgiel." Again that huge smile and those twinkling green eyes. "Who might you be?"
Teagan didn’t know what to say. She just stared for long seconds, then spoke hesitantly. "You’re in my room – you must know who I am."
"It would seem so," he answered. "It would certainly seem so indeed. But, conversely, since I’m in your room you should know who I am as well, but I doubt that’s at all true." He giggled softly. "So, the real question is, am I really in your room?"
"I . . . " she stammered, "I don’t know . . . where you are, or where I am for that matter, or who you are or why I’m halfway through this mirror." She was afraid to move further in either direction. Her eyes were still wide as she seemed frozen in both time and space.
"I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that," he said as he tugged hard on her finger. "Just step the rest of the way through and we can talk a little here."
"About what?" she asked hesitantly.
"Are you afraid? Oh, and you’ve never told me your name."
"Teagan," she ventured.
"Well, Teagan, come on in, unless you’re afraid to have the greatest adventure of your young life. Just a little more and you’ll be through."
"But, what will happen if I step on through?"
"Oh, no hints," Hgiel parried. "You’ll have to decide. Advance or retreat? Adventure or hiding in today? What will be your choice?"
She still hesitated, half in and half out, trying to decide what to do. A little timid and shy by nature, she was afraid. Yet, adventure called, in this rather strange way, and she knew that only so many chances came your way in life. A deep breath, a sigh, and she stepped through, turning around to look into her room . . . which wasn’t there. She saw no evidence of the mirror or the room that she had just left. She was simply standing in the midst of a huge field of singing flowers, a small brown man holding her hand.
"Welcome to Acinorev," he said, smiling broadly again.
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