No Strings Attached: Opposites

such a racket!

I climbed down and looked at the mirror. It was cracked along the bottom edge where the wood was, but the glass was still uncracked. Thank goodness! I hoisted the mirror up and dragged it to my room. It left a line in the carpet, but I meant to go back and scuff it away.

When I got to my room, I couldn't decide where to put the mirror. It was too big to fit anywhere properly. It was the wrong colour as well, so I thought, once I had cleaned it, I would paint it blue or red, to match my wallpaper. Mum would be really pleased with me. "Its good to see that you can use you're initiative!" she would say.

I settled on the gap between my bed and the wall. It was OK there. Because it was oval, it tried to fall over, left or right, so the place I found for it was just right. The wall held it one way, and the bed supported it the other. Perfect.

It was raining hard now, and Mum would be home soon, so I ran to the kitchen and got a cloth and some detergent. I would show Mum how good I was at cleaning things now. She would be amazed at the job I did, "Is that really the old mirror we had upstairs?" she would say.

I cleaned and cleaned, until the wooden frame was shiny, and the glass was clear of dirt. The cloth ended up black, so I threw it away.

Now I had my very own mirror.

I sat on the floor, cross-legged, and looked at myself in the mirror. I pulled faces. I laughed at myself. I was getting excited, because I knew Mum would be home any minute now.

And that's when the mirror fell over on me.

It was really strange. At first I wondered why my reflection was going upwards, like a rising balloon. Then I realized why, and I put my hands out to stop the mirror, but it was too heavy, and the last I remember was the glass hitting me on the head.

So what happened? I don't know, but I'm still alive, and that's a relief, because it would have made Mum a bit sad to come home and find me as flat as a pancake under a mirror!

I'm sitting on the edge of the bed now and staring at my hands. They are on the ends of my legs. My feet are where my hands should be. I feel as if I'm turning inside out, or back to front. I don't know whether I'm coming or going. The door in my room is a window, and the window is a door, the curtains hang upwards, the