6: The Mirror of Mirages
The memory instantly came back to him. He vividly remembered the night when, five years ago, he discovered this very mirror with Fred while they were running away and hiding from their former caretaker. Again, as he looked at it, it seemed like a plain normal mirror. His reflection stared at him with the same sad expression. Everything looked the same as it did the night they found the room. With only one exception.
Fred wasn’t with him anymore.
He suddenly couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. He broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably. That was it. There will be no more discoveries. No more adventures. No more good times, no more fun, no more laughs. It’s just going to be him from now on. Him and his own thoughts, with no Fred to share them with. It all happened so abruptly. Was he going to make it? Would his life realistically be possible, or have any meaning, with his twin gone? He still had his business. He still had his family. He still had Angelina. But he didn’t have his second half.
He kneeled in front of the mirror, tears running down his cheeks. His eyes were closed. He couldn’t get himself to open them. He knew that if he did, if he looked into that mirror, the memory of his deceased brother will resurface, harder than ever, due to their uncanny resemblance. And it could destroy him.
But was he going to hide forever? Was he going to constantly run away from his memories, from his fears?
No. He couldn’t. That was not like him. Fred would be completely ashamed and disappointed if he let his death take down his brother. He wouldn’t want to be the reason why George’s life was ruined.
No. He was going to challenge himself. He was going to fight. His brother died during a war in which Good triumphed over Evil. That should make him proud. His blood wasn’t spilled in vain. His brother was a hero. And he was going to be brave for him.
Slowly, George stood up, raised his head, and started opening his eyes. Then he looked into the mirror.
His shock almost made him fall back to the ground.
The person looking at him looked exactly like him, but looked nothing like him. He had the same length, the same ginger hair, the same face. But he wasn’t covered in grime. His face wasn’t smeared in dust and blood. His expression wasn’t devastated. And his left ear was intact.