Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon.

(A.N: This is just something I wrote in English today when I was bored.)

Distortion
By Silver Sailor Ganymede

She stared at the mirror: the mirror stared back. Mirrors could not stare, she told herself, but the mirror was indeed staring back at her… oh how she hated the mirror. Its face was contorted, its eyes ablaze with hatred; such a corrupt expression, such a face corroded by sin.

"Who are you?" she whispered, but the mirror didn't say. "Who are you?" she asked again, panic rising in her voice as she spoke, but still the mirror revealed nothing to her. It simply tilted its head sideways and licked its lips, breathing in and out as it did so, the breath misting on the mirror's surface as her own had done just seconds before.

"I am you," it replied, its voice sensing chills down her spine. "I am you."

She blanched; no, it was not her it couldn't be: no, she was no demon, this reflection was not a reflection; it was simply a distorted image.

"Who are you?" she asked again. "Tell me the truth this time!"

The mirror didn't reply; the mirror would never reply in such a way: mirrors were only a distortion: the truth was something they would never know. The mirror never replied; distortions do not know the meaning of truth.