UPDATE 2:
The weirdest fucking thing happened today. I'm still reeling a bit. I'm just…I need a fucking drink. And some pot. I'm going fucking mental. WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!
I knocked off work early and I went to the doctor's to get a prescription. It's fucking hot here atm, and humid as the balls of a swamp croc, we had a thunderstorm rolling in, so I've got my high-vis jacket off and I'm just wearing my singlet. Lucky thing too.
I see the doc, we have a quick chat, asks me how I'm doing, I say everything's well (it mostly is) then I get my script and I get up to leave. He gets up to open the door for me and bring in the next patient.
Then he stops, says "Hold on," and shuts the door.
"How long have you had that?" he asks.
I look at him, like what the fuck dude?
He touches my back, turns me around a bit, pulls the singlet aside to see my shoulder blade.
"This mole here, how long have you had it?"
Now I'm freaked out. The doctor's seen my fucking witch nipple that leaks pus and blood and shit, the bit I got poked where the mirror witch jabbed me with her ephemeral claw.
"Uh," I say, struggling to find something that will explain how it's actually happened.
"Has it changed recently?" he asks. "Has it been bleeding or leaking or anything?"
"Uh, yeah." I say. "I thought I bumped it or something…"
He makes a face. "Right." he says. "Come back tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I'll take care of it."
Now I'm fucking confused and he can obviously tell. He sits me down again and pulls out a pamphlet.
"Looks like melanoma." he says, handing me the pamphlet covered in moles and shit. "Skin cancer. Nasty stuff. You should be fine. Come in tomorrow, I'll cut it out. Day surgery, don't worry. Local anaesthetic, I'll have to take the mole and the skin around it, and I'll jab a needle in for a biopsy of local lymph nodes to see if it's spread. I doubt it will have if the change is recent."
Fucking cancer. And after a quick consult with Doctor Google when I got home…fuck. Melanoma is like the worst of them.
So tomorrow I'm going to the doctor's to get my skin cut off and my nodes jabbed. Lucky I was wearing that singlet and left my shoulder exposed.
Now I'm in two minds about this fucking crazy shit.
Either the ghost gave me fucking cancer, which is terrifying in its own way.
Or.
I think the mirror ghost might be a fucking angel, or some benevolent spirit or something.
Like I said, I never felt malice from it, simply anxiety and urgency.
To be frank, I feel like I'm going out of my mind.
I'm terrified what will happen next time I see her.