I was lying in bed when I heard something scratching at the window. I got up, turned on my bed light, and looked outside. The autumn night was so dark that all I could see was the reflection of my room in the mirror. The jewelled metallic chandelier on my side of the window had taken on the shape of a crowned fiend of Asian origin. Its huge eyes were as black as the night outside and its large pointed mouth was open wide as though it were ready to consume my entire room. Its ears were pointed and hideous, and crystal earrings dangled from them.

My bed light threw visions of creeping ivy on the wall and jagged icicles protruding from the tops of the curtains. I could see my glass globe and antique teddy bear facing away from me, in the distance.

I sat up and moved a little closer to the window. When I saw my own image, it too had changed. I could see the outline of my blonde hair, but my face was outlined with a black shadow. I could make out the features on my face except that my eyes were nothing but holes. I was distressed by this image of myself, and yet, I could not look away. For several minutes I stood in the middle of my room without socks on my feet, staring at my reflection. A chill tickled my toes before creeping up my legs like unseen fingers making each tiny hair stand to attention. The scratching had stopped, but the visions remained.

I went back to bed, turned out the light and tried to go back to sleep, but I could hear my heartbeat echoing in my head, like my brain was pulsing against my skull. I lay and tried to relax, repeating: “rest in natural great peace, this exhausted mind” yet I knew that this time, it was in vain. I had glimpsed another world in that window – and I saw it: the start of something.

The start of something

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