Short Story
Mirror on the Wall
By Tarek AlDuaij


Deserted landscape, mid-day.

A Young Backpacker reaches the front door of an old fashioned house in the middle of nowhere.



TOK! TOK! TOK! TOK! TOK!



The door creaks open. An Old Lady appears from the other side.


OLD LADY
“Hello young man! You’ve come for the room?”

BACKPACKER
“Yes”

OLD LADY
“Come in”


The Old Lady locks the door behind him.


OLD LADY
“Up here”


Guides him up an old wooden staircase.

Upon reaching the upper floor, hands him a set of keys, opens the door to a small bedroom.


OLD LADY
“Make yourself comfortable.. In a little while join me for some tea and biscuits. I’ll be downstairs.”

BACKPACKER
“Thank you madam”


Vanishes back down the steps.
Small wooden bed, wooden closet, desk, chair. Walls completely bare.
The Backpacker notices an iron hook just above the desk. Nothing hangs upon it.

Unstraps backpack, places it on bed, opens closet.. Empty.

An old rag, few hangers.

As the Backpacker removes the rag, uncovers an old mirror underneath. Crack right through the middle.
Picks it up, hangs it on iron hook.

His face, distorted, reflects out the mirror.

Walking back toward the bed, someone suddenly beckons him..


SOMEONE
“Hey!”


The Backpacker turns round. No one.


MIRROR
“Over here you Fuck!”


The Backpacker approaches the mirror. His distorted reflection suddenly talks back to him..


MIRROR
“The old rag downstairs is a fuckin witch. Kill her.”


Confused, the Backpacker carefully steps out the room, quick down steps. The door to a small living room
is open.

The Old Lady, seated on an old leather couch, turns to look toward the Backpacker.


OLD LADY
“That was quick! What an appetite you must have!”


The Backpacker notices a woollen doll wearing a miniature backpack with a needle pierced right through
its forehead sitting on the tea table beside the Old Woman.



BACKPACKER
“What is that?”
The Backpacker points to the doll.


OLD WOMAN
“That young man is you”


The Backpacker rushes back upstairs, grabs backpack, back down, attempts to open the front door..

Locked.


OLD WOMAN
“There’s no way out”

BACKPACKER
“Open it”

OLD WOMAN
“The keys are in your pocket”


The Backpacker pulls out the keys earlier handed out to him, unlocks the door..

Pitch black.


BACKPACKER
“It’s mid-day? How come it suddenly turned dark?”

OLD LADY
“You’re in a black hole”

BACKPACKER
“What are you talking about you Fuckin Witch?!”

OLD LADY
“The mirror talked to you”

BACKPACKER
“Yes. It did. Told me to kill you.”

OLD LADY
“What are you waiting for?”

BACKPACKER
“I’m no murderer”


OLD LADY
“How can you know until you’ve tried?”

BACKPACKER
“There’s no sense in what you’re saying?! STOP FUCKIN WITH MY MIND!!”

OLD LADY
“Fine, let me get back to my tea and biscuits.”


The Old Lady returns to the living room.

After a moment’s hesitation, the Backpacker walks back up to the room, faces the mirror.


BACKPACKER
“How can I break the spell?”

MIRROR
“Kill the Bitch”


KRRRKSHSHSH!!!



Smashes the mirror to pieces.

Facing the broken glass, his further distorted reflection multiplied screams out from everywhere..


BROKEN GLASS
“Kill the Bitch”

BROKEN GLASS
“Kill the Bitch”

BROKEN GLASS
“Kill the Bitch”

BROKEN GLASS
“Kill the Bitch”

BROKEN GLASS
“Kill the Bitch”

BROKEN GLASS
“Kill the Bitch”

BROKEN GLASS
“Kill the Bitch”

BROKEN GLASS
“Kill the Bitch”


BACKPACKER
“AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”



Grabs hold a piece of sharp glass, stomps back down at feverish speed, stabs the seated Old Woman
right through the forehead.

Her teacup drops to the ground.

As blood trickles down her cheek, she grins mockingly at the Backpacker.


OLD LADY
“I thought you were no murderer”
About Tarek AlDuaij

My name is Tarek AlDuaij. I
was born and grew up in
Switzerland. I completed a
Bachelor Degree in Film in
the UK. I am a national
from Kuwait.
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