Through the Looking Glass

Mary bent forward, twisting her right leg around the knee of her left. She stretched an arm out and placed her palms flatly onto the two way mirror in front of her. A sting with through her fingers, vibrating the cells, but she ignored it. A class was going on behind that thin glass, one that couldn't see her. But she could see them clearly. Mary stepped back, slipping a dark lock behind her ear as she waved her arms at her sides. She released a long breath, jumping on the soft balls of her cotton boots as she cracked her neck. Music blared through, bouncing off the brick walls as she smiled. The teacher clapped her hands together and the class began. Mary lifted her legs and twisted, jumping in the air as the first pounding note hit her ears. And in seconds, she was flying through the air. One spiral, one tight lock, slapping the ground with her knees as she spun towards the mirror. She placed her hands against it, breathing in quick and ragged breaths. Her forehead pressed against the glass, her eyes shut as her breath fogged up a fraction of the clean reflector. The music was dying down, the dance nearly over. It was a favorite song of hers. New Classic. Mary laughed lightly before the relaxed state faded, replaced by an eerie tension as she lifted her head. She felt the same tingle as before once she moved, not thinking much of it as she blinked her dry eyes. Sweat dripped down her forehead and she briskly wiped it away. The music had stopped too soon, with several chords and six more spirals left. Mary lifted her eyebrows, getting to her feet as she looked around the empty studio.

No students. Bags scattered the floor as well as jackets and hoodies, but no human was there. Mary spun, grabbing her black leather jacket and her skateboard as she rushed to the window in the far back. She shoved the window open, tossing her skateboard out before she followed after it. Once out, Mary pulled the window shut and hurried to the street. She dropped the skateboard with a loud smack and hopped onto it. Her hair flew back from the wind as she propelled forward. "Come on, come on," she murmured, kicking at the ground to gain more speed. She knew where the most populated place would be on a Saturday. The mall, of course. And she was nearly there, the dance studio had never been very far from it.

Turning the corner, Mary came to a sharp stop, her eyes wide as she stared at the building. From the large windows, she could tell there was no activity. Bending down, she lifted her skateboard and walked cautiously towards the mall. She bit her bottom lip, pushing the door open with a satisfying 'whoosh'. Cold air hit her hard as she turned to look around. "Hello? Anyone?" She called out and the deathly silence stung her more than the chill. But there were voices, hundreds of them, echoing into her ears with screeches. All saying one thing: don't touch the mirrors.

Damon poked his head out of the only lit up store on that floor. He turned and glanced at the woman standing with a skateboard near the entrance. He lifted his eyebrow and stepped forward. She seemed to be unfocused and he groaned. "I'm not one to brag, but I know there's no one here." He stated, his voice colder than intended as he wandered over. "Well, that's a lie. I am one to brag. Sort of. To a degree," he decided on, finishing his internal argument as he smiled brightly at the girl. "I'm Damon, by the way."

Mary unintentionally flinched. The man was a sudden addition to her continuously growing predicament. What was there to do with another player in the game? Trust was a long ways off in the foggy, surreal future. "Then where did they all go?" She asked, her voice matching his in tone. Cold, guarded, and less than balanced. But it was an alarming surprise that her voice didn't crack. She was in that kind of mood that anything was never predictable. "People can't just disappear. Not this many. Not... That fast." Her voice faltered several times, the mood shifting behind it from shock to confusion. It was finally hitting her. Mary's thoughts blocked everything else from creeping into her consciousness and the faceless voices faded. "I was... I- Look, if the mall isn't even populated by brainless teenagers, and the streets aren't busy, and the dance studio is empty... If all of those places are bustling with life, then I get they all just disappeared. By why not me? Why not you?"

Damon grunted, frustrated by her questions as he shakes his head. "Why not me? Because I just got here. I was looking for a new jacket. This one's got... All worn." Damon glanced down at his familiar leather coat, tugged it off and dropped it to the ground. "No use anyway. Holes in the pockets." He smiled once again at Mary, then looked towards the escalators. "Better put the empty mall to good use and find a new one." He turned, walking slowly towards the escalators before looking back over his shoulder at Mary. "Well, come on."

Uncertain of what to do, Mary glanced down at Damon's lazily tossed jacket. She looked back at the man who once wore it. "Okay." She grumbled after an indecisive silent moment. Her weariness brought to light the fear growing within her as the minutes past by, and she hated feeling as if her emotions were on her sleeve. Anyone could see them. Mary clenched her left hand into a fist, digging her nails into her palm as she took graceful steps forward. "But don't try to pull a fast one on me. I'm not being ditched for a leather hunt." Mary added warningly, though a smile broke across her lips to ease her words. "And don't touch the mirrors, okay? Don't touch anything that reflects your image."

"And you got this weird notion of bad reflections how?" Damon asked her, crossing his arms as she moved by his side. His black shirt was tight against his muscles, his ice blue eyes following Mary's every move. "No, forget I asked that." He said a moment later, guiding her up a still moving escalator and stepping on quickly behind her. "And... And I'm not going to just ditch you because of that whole... Leather ordeal." He stopped, lifting an eyebrow at a nearby shop's window. "But I can't see plaid working."