I ran to
the wardrobe and discovered his clothes hanging where mine had been. I
turned and faced him. He laughed and pointed toward my hands and feet. They were bloated beyond recognition. I dare not guess how far this
change has gone. I can write no more today. Aug. 9th. The change is complete. He looks more like me than I do
myself. He has grown more cruel with the change. He taunts me with my
ugliness. Finally I could stand it no longer. I fled from the room. At
last I found the thing I was looking for--a mirror. When I came face
to face with what I now am I nearly collapsed. Yes, he has taken my
form. God pity me! I've taken his! I slunk back to the room in horror. Back to his laughter and the hell
that is now my existence. God knows what to-morrow will bring! Aug. 10th. Seven days since that devil has been in the mirror. I have
prayed to God that it may be the last. It will! I know it will! He, in
the mirror, senses it too. I see the look of apprehension in his eyes. Damn him! It's my turn to snarl in triumph now. For when I lay down
this pen, for the last time, perhaps, I shall leap through the mirror. And he exists only in the mirror. God help me! _I am laying down my
pen!_

[Illustration]

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