The Stranger In The Mirror

The Stranger in the Mirror

The soft chime of the alarm shattered the early morning silence. Groggy and disoriented, Anjali reached out and silenced it with a practiced swipe. Rubbing her eyes, she stumbled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. The cool tiles felt familiar beneath her feet, anchoring her to her routine. She flipped on the light, the bright fluorescent glow making her squint.

Anjali splashed cold water on her face, relishing the sensation as it jolted her awake. She reached for her toothbrush, and that’s when she saw it. In the mirror, a pair of unfamiliar eyes stared back at her.

Her heart pounded as she leaned closer, scrutinizing the reflection. The face was not hers. Gone were her almond-shaped eyes, replaced by round, hazel ones. Her nose, usually a gentle slope, was now sharp and pointed. Her lips, once full and pink, were thin and pale. Even her hair, which she had carefully braided the night before, was now a cascade of loose, dark waves.

Anjali stumbled back, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She touched her face, feeling the smooth skin, the contours of her new features. It was real. This was her face now. Panic surged through her as she frantically tried to remember any strange occurrences from the night before. Had she been in an accident? Was this a dream?

She grabbed her phone and dialed her best friend, Priya. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before Priya’s sleepy voice answered.

“Anjali? What’s wrong? It’s barely six in the morning.”

“Priya, you need to come over. Something’s happened,” Anjali’s voice trembled.

Fifteen minutes later, Priya arrived, still in her pajamas. She took one look at Anjali and froze.

“Who are you?” Priya demanded, her eyes wide with fear.

“It’s me, Anjali! Please, you have to believe me,” Anjali pleaded, tears welling up.

Priya hesitated, then slowly approached. She reached out and touched Anjali’s face, as if to reassure herself that the person in front of her was real.

“How… how did this happen?” Priya whispered.

“I don’t know,” Anjali replied, her voice breaking. “I went to bed as myself and woke up like this.”

They sat together on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of the impossible. They checked social media, medical websites, and even called a doctor friend, but no one had any answers. The mystery deepened as the hours passed, and Anjali’s new face showed no signs of reverting.

Desperate for some semblance of normalcy, Anjali decided to go about her day. She called in sick to work, unable to face her colleagues with this new face. Instead, she and Priya went out to get some fresh air, hoping it would help clear their minds.

As they walked through the crowded streets, Anjali felt a strange sense of liberation. No one recognized her. She was anonymous, a blank slate in a sea of faces. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Over the next few days, Anjali began to adapt. She experimented with different hairstyles and makeup, trying to make this new face her own. She discovered new ways to express herself, ways she had never considered before. The initial panic slowly gave way to acceptance, and even curiosity.

One evening at the library, Anjali found herself drawn to the farthest corner, where the oldest and dustiest books resided. The worn leather spines and faded titles whispered secrets of forgotten knowledge. As she ran her fingers along the shelves, she stumbled upon an ancient, weathered manuscript. Its title, “Transfigurations and Remedies,” was barely legible.

Intrigued, she carefully opened the book. The yellowed pages were filled with intricate illustrations and handwritten notes. One section caught her eye: a detailed account of various transformations caused by mystical creatures and their cures. She read with growing fascination until she came across an entry about a rare spider known as the "Arachnia Mutabilis."

The passage described how a bite from the Arachnia Mutabilis could alter a person’s face. The transformation was said to be temporary, with the face reverting to its original form under specific conditions. The cure was simple yet challenging: the person had to abstain from alcohol, smoking, and junk food for thirty days.

Anjali’s heart raced as she absorbed the information. Could this be the explanation for her mysterious transformation? She recalled the summer trek she had taken a few months ago, where she had brushed against a dense, cobweb-covered bush. She hadn’t thought much of the tiny bite on her cheek then.

Determined to reclaim her original face, Anjali committed to the regimen. She avoided parties where alcohol flowed freely, steered clear of fast food joints, and maintained a strict, healthy diet. She even took up yoga and meditation to support her new lifestyle.

The first few days were tough, filled with cravings and moments of doubt. But as time passed, she noticed subtle changes. Her skin cleared up, her energy levels soared, and she began to feel more like her old self. Each morning, she scrutinized her reflection, hopeful yet apprehensive.

By the end of the thirty days, Anjali felt a profound sense of accomplishment. She had not only adhered to the cure but also discovered a newfound strength within herself. On the thirtieth morning, she approached the mirror with a mixture of anticipation and fear.

As she stared at her reflection, the transformation was unmistakable. Her almond-shaped eyes, gentle nose, and full lips were back. Tears of relief and joy welled up in her eyes as she touched her face, feeling the familiar contours she had missed so dearly.

Anjali’s journey had come full circle. The stranger in the mirror was gone, replaced by the face she had known all her life. But the experience had changed her in other ways. She had gained resilience, learned the value of self-care, and realized the importance of embracing the unknown.