Gemini
She is a perfect reflection of me. Her hazel eyes stare back at mine from the other side of the mirror, and she mimics my every move. Most of the time, I can't tell that she's there. Other times, something seems...off. I see a dark gleam in her eye, or a touch of wickedness behind her smile. The uncanny valley consumes me, and I try to trick her into showing herself, but she is far more clever than I. Even when I turn my back to the glass, I know that she remains.
Every night, once I've slipped deeply into a hard-earned slumber, the doppelganger creeps from within the frame. First an arm, then a head. Her torso and legs follow closely behind and finally, cold bare feet take their place upon the hardwood. She hovers over me, tangled hair mere inches from my face and sees that I am far away, much too far to interfere with her plans. Pleased, the apparition moves throughout my home to see what seeds of chaos she can sow before the sunlight comes creeping in.
She comes across my journals, and scrawls half thoughts and untruths. She rips pages from the spines of my favorite books and throws the carcasses to the wind, amused by my struggle for linear thought. She sends whispers out into the night air, inviting the ghosts of my past to join in her deviancy. They gleefully accept, and together they rampage through the house, knocking every trinket from its shelf and every picture from the wall.
As daylight approaches, the imposter loses fervor. The new rays of the rising sun are likely to engulf her, and she must make haste toward her reflective encasing, lest she be wiped from this realm altogether. Before she departs, she leans into my ear and softly speaks of her actions. She tells me that I am powerless to stop her, and promises a swift return. She leaves my side and walks toward the mirror, footsteps dragging across the floor. First she inserts her arm, then her head. Her torso follows and finally, a cold bare foot slips into the glass surface.
I awake to find the wreckage around me. I am dismayed, but unsurprised and dutifully begin to clean up the mess that has been made. I do all I can to prevent these nightly attacks, but no amount of prayer or protection stops her from entering. She is part of me, and goes wherever I go. Everything that is mine, she claims as her own. Even my lovers are not safe from her wicked deeds.
Every morning, as I pick up the torn books and broken keepsakes, I try to think of ways to rid her from my life. An answer never comes, at least not in the way that I want it to.