2026 LCPL short story contest 3rd place (High school)
Full Content:
LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE.
DOES SHE SATISFY YOU?
IS SHE THE BEST VERSION YOU COULD POSSIBLY BE?
ATTEND GLOW & GROW’S FAMOUS 2-WEEK INTENSIVE CAMP.
GLOW UP YOUR ATTITUDE AND GROW UP YOUR CONFIDENCE.
REGISTER NOW: ONLY $2000 FOR A LIMITED TIME!
I don’t mean to judge, but I’m judging.
It’s sad, seeing these twelve girls gathered together in the middle of nowhere because they feel like they’re not enough but this could fix that. We’re at a sleepaway camp surrounded by spindly green pines so long they disappear into the sky. All you can hear are hooting owls and chirping crickets. How could anyone sign up for this?
That doesn’t include me. I’m writing an undercover exposé on Glow & Grow and its “self-growth” programs. It’s disgusting, the way they exploit people’s insecurities. Gabi, our appointed Glow & Grow coach with a bright salesgirl voice and pearly smile plastered onto her face, seems nice enough, and I hate that she’s supporting something like this.
Mandy, Erin, Esmerelda, and I head over to the bathroom to get ready for our first night. As I turn on the faucet to brush my teeth, the yellow fluorescent lights flicker for a moment. Then they’re back, humming like nothing happened.
“Huh,” Erin remarks from beside me. “I wonder, Clarisse, how do they even get power way out–”
She stops midsentence. I turn to her. She’s frozen, green eyes bulging out, pinned on her reflection.
I follow her gaze. In the mirror, staring back at Erin, is… Erin. Only, I realize as I look closer, it’s not. I’m not sure how I can tell – they look the same. But the Erin next to me stands with more of a slouch, like she’s trying to hide from the world. Erin in the mirror has her head lifted.
Erin shrieks. I try my best to stay calm and make sense of it all. Over in the showers, I hear Mandy and Esmerelda scrambling. This must be a trick by Glow & Grow. They’re messing with us, using some sort of crazy technology to show us “better” versions of ourselves.
My sink is still running, so I switch it off. The rest of the girls burst inside and the lights flicker yet again, an ominous sign.
“What’s going on?”
Erin opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. The mirror has reverted back to normal.
What the hell?
“My reflection, it was…” Erin trails off, uncertain.
I start to tell them my hypothesis when another thought strikes me. I walk to the leftmost sink, the one I was using, and turn the cold water knob.
They all watch me, confused. I look straight at my reflection, as the lights flicker once again. I know I’m right.
Sure enough, someone who’s not quite me smiles back playfully. I feel a surge of understanding toward her: she’s a go-getter like me, but she’s relaxed rather than intense. She’s assertive rather than domineering. She knows what she wants and knows she’ll get it.
A silence falls over us. We’re too entranced to speak.
“We need to tell Gabi,” Daniela says just as the door slams open.
“You girls should be in bed, it’s late!” Gabi pauses at our shocked faces. “What?”
“The mirror,” Justine musters. “Look in the mirror. Look at your reflection!”
“I don’t see anything.”
“It’s some sort of trick by you guys, right?” I say, perhaps a bit too accusingly.
She narrows her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Girls, I know you’re excited, but you’ll need rest if you want to get the most out of this. Understood?”
We nod numbly, no one bothering to protest. Either she’s a really good actor, or she actually doesn’t notice.
“Don’t you get it?” Erin says as we shuffle back to the bunks. “The mirror shows us the perfect version of ourselves, the ones we’re trying to be. Gabi doesn’t see anything because she’s already her perfect self.”
“Yeah right,” Esmerelda fires back. “Gabi’s clearly lying.” She nods in my direction. “I bet Clarisse is right.”
“Or maybe we’re all hallucinating,” Lacie sighs.
I don’t sleep well. Every time I close my eyes I see her and her winning smile and I hate how much I love her.
A ringing bell startles me awake. I guess I must have fallen asleep eventually.
“Morning, all!” Gabi chirps when we meet her at the bonfire pit. She dons a fuschia raincoat but the same happy demeanor as yesterday. “Did you have a good night?”
We mumble in response, but she takes it as a yes. “Awesome! Now, I want to do a little team-bonding warm-up.” We take a seat as she explains. “We all have regrets. There’s no time machine that can take you back, but you can’t ignore those past mistakes – they’re what make you you. So we’ll all share our biggest regret, and what we’ve learned since.”
No one volunteers to go first. For some reason, her eyes land on me. “Clarisse, why don’t you start?”
I have many regrets, too many to count. But I tend to avoid dwelling on them because I know if I start, I won’t be able to stop.
“I’m a journalist,” I say slowly. “Once, I was about to crack this story…” There was a corrupt politician, a tale as old as time. I had figured him out: sources exposing him, all the right documents. Then my editor-in-chief red-lit the piece, saying releasing this would be a threat to my safety. I knew the truth. Mayor Wellick had spent quite some money bribing publications. I wasn’t aware of which ones until then.
“...I couldn’t bring myself to do what was right.”
I willingly let an injustice slide. It said something about me as a journalist, as a person. I had spent over half my life believing this was something I was good at – something no one could ever take away. I didn’t know what to do if it turned out I just wasn’t cut out for this.
I didn’t mean to share all that with twelve practical strangers, but I guess it felt nice. Gabi looks very pleased.
Our “character-building activity of the day” is taking turns with an old-school camera, photographing the beauty we see in each other. The woods are cold and muddy from an early morning storm, but it’s actually pretty fun. The second Gabi bids us good night, we rush to the bathroom.
I almost sigh in relief when I see her staring back at me. I’ve kind of missed her, in a sick way. I don’t consider myself a jealous person, but I’ve never wanted to be in someone else’s skin so badly. Well, she is me.
Lacie has formed a new theory. “Everyone knows mirrors are haunted. Have you noticed that your reflection is always watching you, even when you look away?”
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Esmerelda snaps. “Clarisse and I already said, it’s a set-up. And Gabi’s been told to act like she doesn’t notice it.”
“So you don’t think we’re real?”
It’s Esmerelda’s voice. Esmerelda’s lips are shut. Basic logic tells me… look at the mirror.
My eyes recognize it before my brain does. The person in the mirror is talking to us.
I scream.
“Oh, calm down already!” I snap. No, I didn’t say that. It sounds like I said that. It’s definitely something I would say. A fresh wave of nausea hits me as I meet my mirror’s eyes. Now her proud smile seems taunting, almost sinister.
“Please. Who are you all?” Mandy is staring wide-eyed at her reflection.
“We are you.” Mirror Mandy gives herself a reassuring smile. She’s as kind as our Mandy, but more of a leader. “But not quite. We’re from an alternate universe. Same person fundamentally, but we made different decisions in our lifetime.”
I make a mental note to research Glow & Grow’s connections to technology companies once I’m back in the city.
Mirror Clarisse nods at me. “You still don’t believe this, do you?” I don’t respond. “I know things only the two of us know. Wellick, for example?”
My blood runs still. No. It can’t be. They must’ve hijacked my brain. I can come up with a million explanations, but in a way, it feels good to believe.
“Wait.” Esmerelda frowns. “If you’re in another universe, why are you all in this same bathroom too?”
“Our world is more advanced than yours,” Mirror Justine replies. “Long ago, scientists realized mirrors allowed parallel universe counterparts to communicate. Our government has been watching your world, and learned you would all gather here. So, they recruited us to help.”
“Why the faucet?” I ask, gesturing to the water continuing to trickle. “Why does that trigger the connection?”
Mirror Clarisse laughs. “How the hell would we know?”
I can’t help but crack a smile too. I’ve never felt more at peace with myself.
“Everyone, come gather now! I have an important announcement to make.”
I open my eyes and realize it’s morning. The rest of the night was a blur. We spent hours chatting with our alternate selves, returning to our cabin before the sun rose so Gabi wouldn’t notice anything. I still don’t trust her, even if Glow & Grow supposedly isn’t involved.
I stumble outside and look for Mandy so I can talk to her, but she’s nowhere to be found.
“Where’s Mandy?” I ask.
Gabi’s face tightens. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you all about.”
I tense.
“Mandy had a family emergency and had to withdraw from the program. Let’s all respect her decision and wish her the best.”
Esmeralda and I lock eyes. We’re thinking the same thing.
Today’s activity is finding something from nature that we think matches the soul of the other campers and gifting it to them. Esmerelda hands me a pretty rose-colored stone.
“Last night spooked her too much, didn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter back. From what I remember, Mandy seemed pretty happy. Fascinated, like the rest of us. I have no idea what’s happened to her, but I know for a fact Gabi’s lying.
Like a silent agreement, nobody touches the left sink tonight. Mandy’s absence hangs in the air, but we don’t talk about it. I notice something under my pillow as I head to bed: a page frantically torn from a book, with words scribbled hastily in Sharpie. It’s Mandy’s handwriting.
Clarisse, you’re the only person here who I trust to not say anything. Whatever you do, DON’T go back to the mirror. I went and I barely escaped. Listen to me and leave this place NOW. –Mandy.
I can barely process the words. When did she write this? Why did she write this? Objectively, it seems Mandy’s gone insane, but I have more faith in her than that.
What could be so bad over there?
I feel the cool midnight air on my skin as I make my way toward the bathroom. Above, a million little stars twinkle. I wonder what would happen if they all fell down.
Here’s my chance. I stare at the faucet handle. Just one turn and I can find out the truth. There’s more to this than I could have ever imagined.
I reach into my pocket and take out Mandy’s note, reading it over to myself one more time. She was warning me not to do exactly what I’m about to do. But I have to go, doesn’t Mandy understand that? I have to investigate. I have to prove that I’m just as good as her.
I hold out my hand, letting the cold water wash over me.
“What did you guys do to Mandy?” I demand the second I see my reflection switch.
Her smile flickers. “What?”
“She crossed over, right? She went to your universe.”
“What are you talking about, Clarisse?”
“It’s a lie. Everything you told us is a lie.”
“You’re not making any sense–”
”Are you really even our parallel selves? Or are you monsters? Demons?” Now I’m shouting.
“Listen to yourself. You’re insane! This conversation is over.” She reaches toward the sink. I lunge forward, trying to stop her, and hit the glass instead. The lights flicker once, twice, then go out completely.
A beat passes. They’re back on, the water is off, and she’s gone from the mirror.. I let out a shaky breath and shuffle out the door, freezing when I see what’s outside. Instead of the measly firepit and wood cabin, there are cars and tents.
A middle-aged man with a white beard jogs toward me. “Again, so sorry for waking you at this hour, miss. But our monitors were going off, saying your Other was entering the bathroom.”
“M-my Other?”
He doesn’t seem to hear me. “I hope you’re not angry about this. We just want to maximize all our chances of interaction with the Other World.”
I push past him and break into a run, heading straight for a car. Somehow, I have the right keys and the engine starts. I don’t think twice. I floor the accelerator and steer off into the dark woods.
I instinctively know which way to go, even though I’ve never driven here before. I’m out of the forest and in my apartment before I know it.
It looks and feels the same – the noisy upstairs neighbors, the lavender humidifier, the pictures on the walls. Except one: a faded photograph of me (or her, I don’t really know the difference anymore) posing proudly on a podium with a tall man in a bright blue tux. The guy who was running against Mayor Wellick. He certainly would have won if someone exposed his opponent’s fraud.
I don’t understand. What happened to Mandy when she entered the mirror? Because right now, the last thing I want to do is leave.
I collapse onto the soft memory foam of my bed. When I open my eyes, bright sunlight streams in through the blinds.
My alarm clock tells me it’s seven in the morning, Monday. Work.
I spring up. Strangely, I seem to know where to find everything, like this really is my home. In less than ten minutes, I’m riding the elevator down with an elderly woman I’ve never seen before.
“I’m so glad you’re back, Clarisse sweetie!” She pulls me into a tight hug, her jasmine perfume enveloping me. “You don’t know how much I missed you!”
“I’ve missed you more, Iris. How’s your grandson doing?”
I don’t realize what happened until I’m in my car. I spoke with a woman I don’t know about things I don’t know. And yet, I’ve never had a more natural conversation.
It’s the same at work: when I sit at my desk, I know exactly what I’m writing about and what I need to do. As if all of Mirror Clarisse’s memories are flooding my brain.
Something within me is shifting. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I know I like it. Interviews are easier. Collaborating with my editors is fun. I laugh louder than ever when I’m with my friends. I can’t remember the last time I felt something negative.
Every day is a good day, though I no longer dream when I sleep except for a few snapshots of a far, distant life. Something’s changing not just the way I act, but the way I think too. Because I’m not thinking at all. That’s it: I can’t hear my thoughts.
When I make a mistake, I don’t second-guess my abilities because I don’t reflect on anything. When I take too long on something, I immediately get back to work instead of wallowing because I simply can’t care.
Every day is a good day, and it’s not enough. I’m tired.
On Saturday, I go to yoga. The instructor, smiling bright like a lotus flower, hands clasped before her in prayer pose, is Gabi.
“Good morning, Clarisse. How are you?”
I freeze.
It’s not my Gabi, I remind myself. She doesn’t know who I really am. She can’t. I’ve been here almost a week now and no one has suspected anything.
Something deep inside me is fighting its way to the surface, triggered by her appearance. I push it down and follow Gabi’s movements.
Youdon’tbelonghereYoudon’tbelonghereYoudon’tbelonghere.
The bright white studio lights flicker.
Youcan’thidemeforeverYoucan’thidemeforeverYoucan’thidemeforever.
My classmates begin to vanish, one by one.
Perfect job, perfect social life, perfect happiness. But are you really happy? Are you feeling anything at all?
It’s just me and Gabi now.
“I’m happy here,” I say to myself. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” My heart is nearly jumping out of my chest. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Gabi’s gone too.
In the mirror, my reflection flashes before me. I have everything I want here. Everything except myself. And I really miss myself.
The part of me that’s been buried ever since I switched into this world finally snaps free. She’s far more awful than she is perfect, and sometimes I really hate being her. But now I know I would rather color outside the lines than have no color at all.
I don’t want to be you anymore.
In a blink, my background changes. I stand before a familiar sink, under familiar yellow lights. I feel truly awake for the first time in days. Something about this place is so still and so calm. It’s beautiful.
Gabi waits for me outside.
“You were there,” I breathe. “In the other place. Did you recognize me? It wasn’t actually real, right? Just some simulation? Is that Glow & Grow’s whole strategy?”
She hums to herself. “For an investigative journalist, Clarisse, you should have listened more closely during our team-bonding warm-ups.”
I shake my head. “I don’t get it.” It’s almost comical, how I just can’t understand. And honestly? That’s okay.
Her eyes twinkle. For the first time, her plastic smile seems genuine. “Write us a good review, won’t you?”