Short Story: The Chair

The room is small and damp. In the center there is an old metal bed with a flat and dirty mattress on it. The woman said it was the only availble room in the house and you were tired so here you are.

The floor creaks as you look around at the room. An old vanity with a streaked mirror faces the bed. Laying upon the vanity are brushes and little jars full of liquids. You open the red one marked Sophie. It smells like lavender mixed with vanilla.

As night falls you get ready for bed, taking care to open a window for air. You look into the vanity mirror and again open the bottle when you drop it. It smells like rust and blood. Suddenly you're looking through the vanity glass at yourself smelling the bottle. You notice something you didn't see before.... someone under the bed. It's looking at you in the same glass. You try to scream to yourself to turn around but before you can ,you see blood start to come out of your mouth. You turn around and the room is suddenly dark, there is no bed and no vanity. Only a chair. A chair for you to watch your death over and over again.