She never felt comfortable looking into mirrors. It always felt like something was looking back. It's been getting worse lately. She thought that her reflection scowled at her yesterday.
As she walks past the cracked mirror her face is cleft in two. She feels her face contort into a mad grin as her reflection reaches out towards her. As she tries to stop her hand touching the glass, a whimper escapes through her clenched teeth.
Welcome to Itzacon.