John hated mirrors. He hated how they reflected everything except him. He hated how they made him feel invisible and alone. He hated how they reminded him of the day he lost his normal life.
It was a sunny afternoon in May when John came home from school. He was tired and bored after another day of listening to his teachers drone on about history and math. He just wanted to relax in his room and play some video games. He opened the door to his bedroom and threw his backpack on the floor. He walked over to his dresser and looked into the big mirror that hung above it.
He expected to see his brown hair, blue eyes and freckled face staring back at him. But instead, he saw nothing. The mirror showed only his room, as if he wasn't there at all. John blinked and rubbed his eyes, thinking it was some kind of trick or illusion. He reached out his hand to touch the mirror, hoping to feel the cold glass and see his reflection appear.
But as soon as his fingers touched the surface, he felt a strong pull that yanked him forward. He gasped and tried to pull back, but it was too late. He was sucked into the mirror with a loud whoosh.