The Mirror showed Dominic reflections that weren't his own.
The Mirror was an oddity, but an oddity that he would come to rely on.
"What the hell is this thing?"
Dominic had been browsing for things he could sell at his local thrift store, and the Mirror had caught his eye. It stood out because this shop didn't usually put trash out with their junk. The Mirror was fractured in seven places, and it looked like someone had punched it in the center, sending spider cracks through the glass.
At first, he thought it was some kind of joke mirror because when he looked into it, he saw seven different reflections and only two of them were him.
The two that were him were on the top right and the bottom left. The left one showed a much younger Dominic as he shuddered on a metal frame bed in Clarence County Prison. At first he thought it was just some inmate, everyone kinda looked the same with a bald head and stripes on, but he would never forget that cell. It had the swastikas carved on the wall behind it, the legend that stated "Cops are Bastards" below it, and the picture of his then wife that he had stuck up there with toothpaste to add some color to the cell. It was him alright, but the one across from it was much more interesting.
The top right showed Dominic picking up a painting in the art section, a painting with a price tag on it that read two grand for you.
Dominic was no fool, he wanted to make sure this wasn't some kind of weird trick first. He'd grown up in gangs and living rough, and he knew a hustle when he saw one. It was an impressive hustle, to be sure, but it still smelled like a hustle to him. Dominic went to the little section they had for art and, sure enough, there was a picture of some women sitting on a balcony, their faces looking scared as they grinned like corpses in their expensive dresses. The price tag on the front was not for two grand, however, and was for a much more reasonable ten dollars. Dominic thought it over, pulling out his phone as he snapped a picture and looked to see what it was worth. He found a page for some artist named Roland Depriest and it just so happened that a lot of his paintings were going for big bucks since he had recently offed himself. A quick look told Dominic that this was, indeed, a Depriest, and the going price for it was about two grand as of this afternoon.
He picked up the painting and the Mirror, deciding to take both home with him.
"Whatcha want that ratty old mirror for?" Asked Mr. Drucil, looking at the broken glass without much interest.
Clearly, he couldn't see what Dominic saw in it, and that might be for the better.
"I like the frame," Dominic lied, "I think I might use it for something."
Mr. Drucil looked at the painting in a precursory way, but shrugged as he tapped it all up on his calculator.
"Ten dollars," he said, holding his wrinkly hand out with expectation.
Mr. Drucil did business in cash, and did not truck with those little card machines.
"And the mirror?" Dominic asked, not wanting to get scammed after the fact.
"Take it," the old man said, "I can't sell a broken mirror and the frame looks ugly anyway. If you want it, then, by all means, take it off my hands for me. Just don't cut yourself on the glass. I'd hate for you to try and sue me after I gave you such a great deal on it.
Dominic nodded, thanking Mr. Drucil as he left the little shop with a tinkle of the bell overhead.
The painting he sold for the prophesied two grand to a scalper friend of his, and the Mirror he hung in his bedroom.
For a week, the Mirror did little but show him going about mundane tasks, and Dominic began to wonder again if he had been had. The little inmate still stayed in his cell, sometimes going out for chow but mostly just staying and looking sad. That tracked, Dominic had spent most of his bid being sad about one thing or another. Sad that he was stuck in prison for five years, at first, and then sad that his wife had left him towards the end. He tried to figure out what the other spots meant, but they were kind of a mystery to him. The middle two showed him awful things, things he didn't like to think about. He was a tough guy, he'd been in his share of scraps and seen people get killed in his lifetime, but this stuff was so much worse. People beating kids, people killing their wives, people hurting animals, and everything in between. The one next to it wasn't much better. He could see mothers tucking in starving kids, homeless people crying as they used the last of their money on a bottle of cheap alcohol, even little kids huddling together as they hid from someone.
Some of what the Mirror showed him was terrible, but some of it was as helpful as the painting had been.
The top left panel showed a woman he knew all too well as she went about her day to day life. He should know her, she was his ex wife. The bitch had divorced him while he was in prison and took most of his stuff while he was too incarcerated to do anything about it. She had taken advantage of him while he was at his lowest, and for that he hated her. In that respect, he thought of that tab as his Enemy Panel, and even wrote it on a post it note as he stuck it to the wall. The Mirror turned to be very useful when it came to avoiding her, proving itself one day just as he was about to leave. He was going out on a date, his hair freshly cut and his cologne not too heavy, when someone knocked at his door. His date was supposed to meet him at the restaurant, but he thought she might have decided to pick him up instead and came out of his bathroom and towards the front of the house.
He was walking past the Mirror, when he suddenly saw his ex standing outside a very familiar door.
She did this sometimes, especially if she could facebook stalk enough information to realize he was serious about someone. He hid out, letting her knock for a while longer, but she finally got bored and left. Dominic was only a few minutes late for his date, and used his little peep hole often so he could avoid running into his ex.
On the other hand, the bottom right panel showed him an older man he had never met before. Watching that guy was like watching the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. He ate expensive food, drove expensive cars, wore expensive clothes, and went to bed with someone new every time Dominic noticed. He decided to leave that label blank for now, not really sure what he was seeing or how it would affect him.
He found that on days when he didn't have anything better to do, Dominic was checking the Mirror to see what he could see. He had definitely found some windfall from the Mirror, the three scratch offs he'd won kept his rent paid, but he was looking for another big score like the painting. In the top right Dominic was back at the thrift store, but it was a different one today. Dominic watched as he picked up an expensive looking fur coat, putting it on as he preened a little in front of the Mirror. Then, he stuck his hand in the pocket and pulled out a diamond watch that, even to an untrained eye like Dominic's, looked expensive. The thrift store was known to him, a little second hand store on Mulbank, and after checking that his Ex was still at her job, he decided to go see if lightning would strike twice.
The thrift store wasn't crowded, and the coat was loud enough to be seen from the entrance. Dominic assumed it would reek of liquor and cheap cigars, looking like some wannabe pimps prop, but the coat was in immaculate condition. The tag said it was a Vanderfur, a brand even Dominic was familiar with. He put it on and went to the Mirror, preening a little as he'd seen himself do. The coat looked good, very good in fact, and it would go well with some of the shoes that Dominic had at home.
As he stuck his hand into the pocket, however, it was time for the moment of truth.
At first there was nothing, then, suddenly, his fingers touched the harsh surface of the expensive watch.
He pulled out a Rolex with, honest to god, diamonds on the face. The whole thing gleamed obscenely, and Dominic longed to slide it on and feel the weight of it. This was the sort of thing that he had dreamed of as a kid, driving around town in a fancy car, with a hot girl in the passenger seat, an expensive timepiece on his arm, in a primo coat. He would be the envy of anyone he knew, but as he turned to go, he heard someone at the counter asking about the coat.
"It was a Vanderfur. I donated it this morning, but my watch must have fallen out in the pocket. Please, I beg you, I need that watch back. It belonged to my father, and it has great sentimental value."
Dominic intended to walk right on by without acknowledging the man, finders keepers and all that, but as he caught sight of him in profile, he felt his breath whoosh out in a gasp.
It was the guy from his broken Mirror, the guy who lived so lavishly.
Dominic couldn't have said why, but suddenly he was tapping the guy on the shoulder and holding out the expensive watch.
"I heard what you were saying, sir. I came to buy this coat and found the watch in the pocket. It's too nice for me anyway." he said, smiling as the joke fell flat.
The older man's smile went from ear to ear, "Oh my God, thank you, young man. I can't believe how kind you are."
"Yeah," said Dominic, “neither can I."
The man stood mooning over the watch for a few minutes as Dominic paid for his new coat. It was a little more than he strictly wanted to pay for a coat, but he found that he liked it and it would help him remember a time when he'd been so generous. He started to think that maybe he could sell it for more than he'd paid for it, when someone stopped him on the sidewalk.
The guy was running after him, asking him to wait as the watch threatened to slip off his wrist
again.
"I owe you something at least for being so kind." he said, panting a little as he caught his breath.
"It's really okay, Mr. You don't have to,"
"I insist," the man said, taking a watch out of his suit coat that looked almost as impressive as the one he was wearing, "My father bought me the watch you found when I was eighteen and about to leave for college. This watch doesn't have nearly as much sentimental value, but I think it will help you, nonetheless."
He put the watch in Dominic's hand, and patted it warmly.
"I am in your debt, sir. Hopefully I can find a way to repay you someday."
The watch was nice, not as nice as the one he'd had, but still nice. It sold for about thirteen hundred dollars, and Dominic used the money to not only float him for a while, but also buy a much cheaper watch that still looked richer than anything he'd ever owned. He too wanted a reminder of that warm feeling he had felt when he'd done something nice for someone else.
With the rent on his dingy apartment paid for the next few months, Dominic began spending a lot more time watching the Mirror. He had decided that the panel with the rich man might be his greatest friend, if his ex wife was to be his greatest enemy. The top and bottom corners were his future and past, and he used the former to enhance his own future often. The middle two were still a mystery to him, but he felt like they might make sense in time.
The top panel, the one that took up the most space, however, made him more than a little uneasy.
It was gray, the sky full of cracks as it swam like a puddle when you threw a rock into it. Dominic felt like he knew that sky, but he couldn't place it. He had never seen a gray sky like that in his life, except he had. He knew he had, he just didn't know when. He tried to look at that space as little as possible, but it just kept drawing his eye, making him want to take the Mirror and throw it somewhere where it couldn't make him feel that way.
That was usually how he got stuck looking at the middle two panels.
Anything to take his mind off that gray sky full of cracks.
The Mirror kept showing him things and leading him to opportunities, but it wasn't until he saw one of the faces from the middle panel that he thought he knew its true purpose.
He would later reflect on what leap of ego had led him to believe that he knew the purpose of something like this.
He was at Marcie's buying groceries one day, when he saw a familiar face in line, and the true nature of that panel came to him. He had seen the woman before, too many mouths to feed and not enough hours in the day to work to feed them. She was standing at the register, her card having been declined, deciding between a gallon of milk and a box of diapers.
To diaper the baby, or have milk for the other four?
"Here," Dominic said, paying the cashier the remainder from his own wallet. He had no idea why he had been moved to help, but it made it feel good to do so. The woman thanked him profusely, almost to an embarrassing degree, but Dominic told her not to worry about it. She could pay him back if she felt strongly about it, and there was a little more to get her through the week if she needed it. The woman cried as she tried to refuse him, but the money went into her purse, regardless, and Dominic smiled as he watched her go.
After that, he began using his money to help others more often. The Mirror helped him invest his windfalls, helped him change his life for the better, and as he grew, so too did his altruism. Suddenly, he was no longer giving money to single mothers or tipping bills into the homeless peoples cups, but he was helping the city open shelters, providing programs with start-up capital so they could offer meals to people in need, and changing the poverty stricken neighborhood he lived in for the better. That was how he reconnected with the man from the thrift store, and it was a meeting that would change his life forever.
The Mirror had shown him that today he would meet someone who would change his life, but he had never expected it to be the man who had begun his charity.
As he gave the keynote speech, he could see an ocean of faces that had once looked hopelessly out of the Mirror at him. He had given them the hope he now saw there, and the feeling made him tingle. He had always wanted to be someone who could help others, even as he struggled to help himself. He had never realized it before. He had something worthwhile to give now, and he was on top of the world.
As he sat ladling punch into a plastic cup, he heard a voice he hadn't thought of in four years.
"Looks like you've come a long way since the thrift store. I almost didn't recognize you until you started to speak up there."
Dominic turned and there was the man who had given him the watch.
He extended a hand, "We've never been formally introduced. I'm David Rothchild, philanthropist and tech mogul."
"Dominic Frazier, it's nice to see you again."
And it was nice. The two of them talked for the rest of the afternoon, and when they parted ways at sunset, the two were already working on plans for a venture together. Dominic had given him some stock advice, something the Mirror had shown him the day before, and the two parted with promises that they would get together again very soon.
Dominic returned to his apartment, the same dingy one bedroom he had lived in for years, wanting to see what the future had in store now that he had found a man like David to partner with.
Instead of grand business ventures and philanthropic outreach, however, he was greeted with himself stabbing his new friend to death.
Dominic stared at the Mirror for a moment, unsure of what he was seeing. This couldn't be his future. Why would he do such a thing? He had a lot of respect for David, and couldn't imagine why he would hurt him. It had to be a fluke, a trick of the light, but every time he came back to the Mirror, it showed him the same thing. His knife red with David's blood and David laying on the floor of his tiny apartment. It never changed, it never wavered, and Dominic decided that enough was enough where the Mirror was concerned.
He put it in the hall closet, shutting it and its proposed future away for good.
At least, he hoped so.
He spent a lot of time with David in the coming months. The two did a lot of good for the community, for many communities, and Dominic found himself living a part of that lifestyle he had only seen through the mirror. Jet setting, eat lavish meals, living the sort of life he had always dreamed about, and with a friend like David Rothchild, he could live that life with an ease he had never known. Dominic was the happiest he had ever been, or he would have been if not for the dreams.
In the dreams, he always saw himself standing over David's corpse as he bled out onto his tacky carpet.
In the dreams, he could hear the sirens approaching as he stood over the man like a conquering hero.
In the dreams, Dominic knew that his life as he knew it was about to come to an end.
It started very subtly. Dominic began spending time at home instead of with David. He was busy with other projects, he needed to give some attention to his other charities, he needed to reconnect with his roots and remember the people who needed him. These were all excuses he gave to his new friend, but in reality, Dominic had begun to resent his business partner. David Rothchild, who had everything, except a criminal record and a checkered past. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if David was doing this to mess him up? Did he know that Dominic was supposed to kill him? Was this his way of stealing his happiness? Just like that bitch of an ex wife of his. Were they in this together? Was she so unhappy with this success that she would stoop to this to make him miserable.
He neglected his work, neglected the things that had brought him joy, and spent all his time in his apartment, begging the mirror to show him anything but the bloody end to his happiness.
When the knock on his door came, Dominic realized that he hadn't left his apartment in weeks. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing the day before, or was it the week before? They clung to him sweatily, and the smell from his pants made him think that he might have soiled himself. Now that he was back from his trance, he wondered when the last time he had eaten was? His stomach growled angrily, and he had gotten up to go to the kitchen when he heard the knock again.
"Dominic? Are you there? Your secretary said I could find you here. Are you home?"
David again.
Dominic got up, walking angrily to the door. He would send him away. Better to lose a friend than lose his life. He liked David a lot, he was a good friend, but he liked being a free man more. He had wasted five years in prison, and he would be damned if he'd go back. He didn't care what some mirror said, he wasn't going to let anything jeopardize his future.
"Go away. I don't want to talk to you."
"But why? What did I do?"
Dominic closed his eyes, trying not to let the rage that was building behind them out. What had he done? Like he didn't know. He was only trying to steal his life from him.
"I don't owe you an explanation. Please, just leave. I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're acting like this. I'll stand here all night if I have to. I just want to see whats going on with you. I'm worried, Dominic. I'm worried about you."
Dominic didn't remember opening the door, but suddenly the two men were face to face. Some of his neighbors were peeking out of their apartments, trying to see what was going on. Dominic just knew they would have something to talk about tomorrow, and he shuddered to think what sort of stories they might weave. A lovers quarrel? Maybe David had stolen Dominic's girlfriend? Maybe they had stolen money from each other? Who was to say, and all of it would likely paint Dominic the worse for it.
"I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you. Can't you just respect my wishes and,"
"Somethings going on here." David cut over him, "You're not acting like yourself. Did someone say something to you? Did you hear something? There's a lot of rumors going around about me, its the same with most rich guys in our circles. I just wanna know why you're so,"
Dominic was sick of hearing it, and shut him up the only way he knew how.
David's tooth flew down the hallway when he hit him, and suddenly the two of them were rolling around the floor and throwing punches. It was the kind of ugly fighting you see in desperate people, and as it rolled into his apartment, Dominic realized he couldn't pummel David into submission. Despite being a decade older than him, the man was in better physical shape than he had a prayer of being. As David rained down blows on him, Dominic sent his hand searching for something to defend himself with.
The knife was something he had lost years ago, a steak knife that had tumbled from his plate and rolled under the couch forever, but when his fingers locked onto it, he knew what to do with it.
Before he knew what was happening, he was standing over David, the other having been stabbed more than a dozen times.
The sirens were coming and as Dominic let the knife slip from his numb fingers, he realized they had taken it from him anyway.
His life, for better or worse, was over now.
Well, not all of it.
There was still a little more left.
The trial had been short. They had found him in the apartment with the murder weapon and the victim, his prints all over both. There had been witnesses to see the two fighting, and it seemed an open and shut case. The Rothchilds found a slew of witnesses willing to testify that Dominic had been the aggressor and with his checkered past, all his lawyer could do was get him life. It had been a sham of a trial, and Dominic didn't know why the court bothered with it. They wanted him to be guilty, the Mirror had told him as much, and now his life was over.
The guards at Clarence County smiled knowingly when they saw him get off the bus.
"Welcome home," that smile seemed to say, "and didn't we tell you you'd be back."
As he lay on the floor of his old cell, the cell they'd seemed to think it was so funny to put him back in, he realized what the gray sky had been showing him all along.
As he lay on the filthy floor and looked at the cracks in the ceiling, he finally realized why they had looked so familiar.
This was his life now, his life and his death, and he wondered how long he would have to look at these cracks and this pitted, pitiable concrete before someone came along and put him out of his misery?
If the Mirror knew, it certainly wasn't telling anymore.
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