It's not the mirror.

Trap or not, unless you go back through the maze, there's only one way forward. So you gird your courage and walk forward. Nothing happens, so you continue forward. When you get halfway, you begin to feel less paranoid. Surely if there was a trap it would have gone off by now.

Relaxing, you look to the side, and see your reflection in the mirror. It looks like a normal... wait.. no, it's a fun house mirror. Your body looks fatter, you didn't see it before because your already fat. You take a look closer and see your round body in a slightly rounder state. Funny. You move to the next.

Strange, this one is also a fat mirror, but more so then the other. You pass by them, noticing that you seem to be getting progressively bigger in each frame. Then you notice it is getting harder to walk. You stop again, and look in the mirror, and notice, that, the background isn't distorted... just you.

Not even that, you actually look fatter, your belly is hanging lower, your arms droop at the elbows, and your cheeks budge even bigger, as your double chin has become more of a triple with a ring of fat starting to form. you reach to feel, and a tear runs up your sleeve as the movement flexes your arm and the fat bulges through the material. Likewise the front tears as your chest billows out, like two small avalanches. "EEK!" you say, as you look at yourself and find, indeed, you've gotten fatter. You look back at the mirror, then see your form bulge even bigger, and your other sleeve rips.

"It's not the mirror," you repeat to yourself, then turn around. this only started when you looking at the mirror so...

Oops, you forgot the mirrors on the other side.

The shirt rips along the back from new growth as you turn to the side, the remains hanging off as rags as you force your gaze at the door instead. By now you can barely waddle without tipping your body as your stomach hangs down to the ground, forcing your legs apart. You have to physically maneuver your legs to get around it without falling forward, all the while resisting the temptation to look to either side.

Step by set, you pant your way over to the door...

Written by an anonymous author

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