When I at last awoke from that terrible nightmare, I found myself struggling to hear my own thoughts amongst the storm in my head. I felt like a drunk after an all-night doze. Pushing myself out of the warm bed, I stumbled to the bathroom, crashing into the chair and clothes in the process. Groaning, I plunged my face into the crisp water from the tap. The coldness numbed the pain and reduced the pounding to a dull throb. I glanced at my face in the mirror; white and clouded it was. With a sigh, I scrambled to find my clothes just as the second alarm rang. How I managed to dress so quickly is still a mystery. Handbag and jacket in hand, I strode to the door. I would eat later; I had no stomach for a morsel of food. I grabbed the doorknob and was about to drag the heavy door open when I noticed a sticky note stuck on the panel. My hand shook as I ripped it from the tape. The words stared at me like a nightmare come to life. Confusion swept over me. The dull pain erupted into a frenzy, and I grabbed the locked door, reading once more the note. ‘Don’t trust the mirrors today,’ it said. Throwing my jacket and bag down, I rushed to the mirror and looked at the reflection. I was pale and trembling, like a ghost in the show I had seen the night before. I touched the mirror and shrank back at its coldness. A draft seemed to take the room. At that moment, the door burst open and a policeman entered, ‘Where’s the body?’ he said. I just stared. Another man entered. ‘On the bed, they said,’ he told the policeman. It was the man from down the corridor. I stepped beside them, unable to utter a word; they simply ignored me as if I wasn’t there. I followed their horrified faces and discovered a woman lying on the bed drowning in blood. She looked just like me.