Everywhere he went, he kept a notebook. He had since he was quite young. Each page was filled with thoughts and memories. It was always in his top left pocket.
He had never struggled much with identity and was always sleepily secure of his life, like most people. There was never a reason to worry about tomorrow, or the day after that. They said that the young feel immortal. That isn’t true. The young just don’t confront their mortality.
Everything had started to unravel when he found the mirror.