Ding, Dong, The Mirror's Dead.

The knife glinted in the light, reflected perfectly in the mirror. It rose slowly, my right hand bringing it to me neck. I could almost feel the cold radiating from it.

"It would be so easy," the mirror me said. She smiled. Was it sympathy or just pity? I couldn't tell.

"I don't want to die," I whimpered.

"But you don't want to live with me either."

She was right. I didn't want to live with her... with me. The lines between us were blurring. I didn't know where I stopped and she began anymore. She was me and I was her. But if that was true then...

Her eyes grew suddenly wide. "No, don't even think it missy."

I grinned as I stabbed myself in the throat. A gush of blood burst from the mirror; her blood, not mine.

There was no mark where the knife had entered. I hadn't even felt any pain. It was all over, I was free!

I danced around my room, shouting and laughing like a lunatic. Free, forever free. It felt good.