The Blinking Clock

I shut the door behind me. It had been an exhausting day at work and I was glad to be home. Dinner was delightful, a warm broccoli cheddar soup filled my stomach.
"The cheddar must attract the mice," I joked to myself, listening to the house creaking. It was old, and wood. These sort of things are natural, and I'd gotten used to it. It was my house after all.
I sat down to watch a few episodes of my show, and at length when I had finished, the usual wave of drowsiness hit me. I made my way upstairs promptly at 10:45 like always. While brushing my teeth, I looked into the mirror and contemplated life (like we all do at some point)while my tooth brush cleaned back and forth. I narrowed my eyes.
"Did my reflection just move?" A momentary tense of my muscles left and I began laughing to myself. Those horror movies are so cliche...
I made a face to my reflection in the mirror and finished preparing for bed. Jumping into bed at exactly 11:25, I rolled into my covers and killed the light. Sleep seemed nice, and the dark embraced me,
But tossing and turning was all I received. I could never find the right position. I turned on my side and began to watch my clock blink. Every second. Blink. Blink. Blink. The rhythm began to lull me. I was almost there, almost to sleep, when a click of metal broke my rhythmic trance. It sounded like the opening of a door latch. I covered my head with a pillow. Somewhere far off it sounded like glass breaking. Groggily I rolled over, annoyed at my stupid house for being old and loud.
I tensed, "What was that?"
A slow scrape and the tiniest of vibrations disturbed my room, so I sat up trying to see in the dark. I concentrated on the sound, furrowing my brow. Something was moving? Are my eyes messing with shadows?
"Ugh, I wish I could sle...."
I froze, not finished my thought. The bathroom door was slowing moving open. I couldn't breathe, my muscles were rigid with anticipation, and my heart leapt into my throat. Was I breathing still? Who cares? I tried to fixate on the sounds, the slight movement, but a white noise filled my ears from straining to hear.
A flash of movement, and before my paralyzed body could react, the cold hand was around my throat and a sharp silvery finger plunged into my chest. It twisted and tore into my chest, cutting like glass upon skin. It was glass. My heart struggled to continue. The figure removed its finger from within my chest cavity, and plunged in two more. The face, staring at my face. It was an inch away from my eyes. The eyes, they were reflective, and strangely familiar. Another shock of pain racked my body as the sharp silvery fingers penetrated my rib cage once more, ripping through muscles, organs, and skin. Those eyes. The silver. Familiar face. Thoughts streamed through my head. Glass tinkling. My bathroom mirror.
No.
It isn't me.
I screamed internally, I'm not dying, those eyes they can't..they can't be my own. The figure is still inflicting horrors upon my body, like a thousand shards of glass have entered my chest and now try to escape, but are deep within.
I stared into the silvery face, twisting my face in agony. The cold face, I realized it was my own. My heart stopped, my head rolled, the Reflection punctured my body once more. My life ceased. The last I glimpsed through fuzzy vision, the blinking clock.
It was 12:07.




Gasping, I sit up, sweating. I feel my chest. No holes. I sigh. Just a dream. My heart still racing, I lay back down, almost asleep. Glass tinkling? What is that noise again? From my bathroom I hear glass, and the door begins to creak open. I stiffen, my breath is caught. Pain seeps through my body as I realize the truth.
The blinking clock reads 12:06.