Yeah, the ending is weak but I just started writing then realised I didn't know where I was going with it. He violently averted his eyes, unsure how to process what he had just seen.
The mirror gleamed, the clean surface lit by a singular lamp at the back of the murky room.
Unsettled dust danced in the illumination, rumination causing his mind to become stuck on loop.
He perilously peered back to the shard for the peculiar presence, unsure of the consequence.
Gazing slowly, first at himself, then from corner to corner, he returned his glare back to his own stare.
It was himself, for sure, he could be certain of that. But yet he felt a sense of unease.
Looking closer with a hope to find closure, the man noticed a glint in his eye. He suddenly stared
Back to himself, his pupils dilated as his heart pulsated in an eruption of palpitations.
The mirrored eyes darted about on their own accord.
He stumbled back in an abrupt stupor, his head sore as he cradled it in his hands.
"What is this, some sort of curse?" He shouted to the emptiness, collapsing to the floor.
The mirror now towered over him, ignoring his solitary soliloquy.
He felt as if he was draining, the mirror seeming to become more powerful.
Lumbering to his feet, he once more assessed the reflection that greeted him.
This time he noticed a difference that was clear, fear filled his veins as he saw what he had become.
A headless reflection, only the image of his 'priceless' clothes and accessories were returned to his retinas.
Obsessed so with outward appearance that he neglected his inner self until it ceased to exist.
He didn't resist, he simply admired the new shirt he had purchased that day.