The Mirror Girl (A Palindrome Story)

It was a quiet, dull, ordinary Sunday morning when a little girl uncovered an old mirror that had come from an Antique shop and smiled.

“What a lovely mirror”, she said, twirling around in her black and white dress in front of it, “And don’t I look pretty in it?”.

But then the girl, looking into the mirror, stuck her tongue out, pulled an ugly face and laughed.

The girl in the mirror scowled at the girl outside and thumped, with her fists, upon the inside of the glass.

 “Let me out”, said the reflection angrily, “I’m a real girl. You're my reflection. You belong behind the glass”.

 “No”, said the girl outside, shaking her head, “You’re my reflection. I’m the real girl”.

 “Let me out”, said the girl in the mirror, sobbing, “Please”.

 But then the mirror girl, looking out at the real girl, grinned an evil grin; a grin that made the real girl shiver.

“No, this can’t be happening, it can’t", the real girl repeated to herself, “I must be dreaming, I must”.

“Speak this spell and speak it twice and I shall be you and you shall be me”, said the mirror girl in a distant voice like an echo, green and red and blue lights flashing round about the mirrors edges, and suddenly the real girl felt herself and the reflection start to change places.

 “Speak this spell and speak it twice and I shall be you and you shall be me”, the mirror girl said in a distant voice like an echo, blue and red and green lights flashing round about the mirrors edges and suddenly the reflection felt herself and the real girl start to change places.

“No, this can’t be happening, it can’t", the real girl repeated to herself, “I must be dreaming, I must”.

 But then the mirror girl, looking in at the real girl, grinned an evil grin; a grin that made the real girl shiver.

“Let me out”, said the girl in the mirror, sobbing, “Please”.

“No”, said the girl outside, shaking her head, “You’re my reflection. I’m the real girl”.

“Let me out”, said the reflection angrily, “I’m a real girl. You're my reflection. You belong behind the glass”

The girl in the mirror scowled at the girl outside and thumped, with her fists, upon the inside of the glass.

But then the girl looking into the mirror stuck her tongue out, pulled an ugly face and laughed.

“What a lovely mirror”, she said, twirling around in her white and black dress in front of it, “And don’t I look pretty in it?”.

It was a quiet, dull, ordinary Sunday morning when a little girl covered up an old mirror that had come from an Antique shop and smiled.