A few days later, both the businessman and his wife had gone out for their anniversary, and Jack was home alone after school. He ventured into the bathroom again and looked into the mirror. Something about him looked different. Was it his nose? His mouth? His fingers? He raised his hand to the mirror again.
His mother's voice echoed in his mind. "Don't touch the mirror," it said. "Don't touch the mirror, Jack." He slowly extended his fingers and pressed his palm against its reflection.
At first nothing happened. Jack wondered why his mother had always been so insistent on avoiding the mirror. He kept touching the mirror, and soon, he began to feel strange. The longer he touched it, the hotter he felt, and the hotter he felt, the weaker he became. He felt his legs give in to the weight of his body, but still he kept his hand firmly planted against the mirror, unable to stop touching it.
Suddenly, the face in the mirror twisted its mouth into a horrific grin, curling its lips sinuously upward to reveal a layer of black teeth. In that moment, Jack wanted more than anything to scream and run. But he found himself unable to pry himself from the mirror. The boy in the mirror widened his grin, and Jack lost all control of his body. A sickening wave of half-pain half-pleasure rushed through his body as he convulsed and twitched with his hand still on the mirror.
The boy in the mirror shrieked and plunged through the mirror and onto Jack, whose hand was finally released from the mirror's grasp. Mirror-Jack shattered the mirror into a thousand little shards of glass as he broke through, each of which turned into a little drop of a glistening goo that splattered all over the bathroom floor. Jack could do nothing but lie there as he felt Mirror-Jack crawl on top of him and melt into his body.
When the businessman and his wife returned, they looked everywhere for their son, but could find nothing more than a puddle of goo on the ground.