"I always try to do the right things. My mother always taught me to be nice to people
because she said that way you won't get into trouble and you'll always have lots of friends."
I could see by the way he was twitching and writhing that he had to get to the bathroom.
Oh, my God, not there in front of them. "Excuse me, please," he said, "I got to go..."
Somehow, in that drunken stupor, I managed to turn him away from them and head him toward the bathroom.
He made it in time, and after a few seconds I was again in control. I rested my cheek against the wall, and then washed my face with cool water.
Still groggy, but I knew I was going to be all right. That's when I saw Charlie watching me from the mirror behind the washbasin.
I don't know how I knew it was Charlie and not me. Something about the dull, questioning look in his face.
His eyes, wide and frightened, as if at one word from me he would turn and run deep into the dimension of the mirrored world.
But he didn't run. He just stared back at me, mouth open, jaw hanging loosely.
"Hello," I said, "so you've finally come face to face with me."
He frowned, just a bit, as if he didn't understand what I meant, as if he wanted an explanation but didn't know how to ask for it.
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