Broken Mirror

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. It was a young woman, with piercing green eyes and long, black hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. She wore a white dress, and her skin was pale as snow. I had never seen her before, but I couldn't look away.

I reached out to touch the glass, but my hand went right through it. It was like the mirror was a portal to another world, and the woman on the other side was beckoning me to come closer. I stepped through the mirror, and suddenly I was in a different place entirely.

It was a room, but not like any room I had ever seen before. The walls were made of stone, and the only light came from a single candle that flickered in the corner. The woman was there, standing in the center of the room. She smiled at me, but it was not a friendly smile. It was more like a smirk, as if she was pleased with herself for luring me into this trap.

I tried to back away, but the room seemed to be closing in on me. The walls were getting closer, and the candle flickered and dimmed. The woman started to laugh, and her laughter echoed through the room like a chorus of demons. I was trapped, with no way out.

That's when I heard a voice calling my name. It was faint at first, but it grew louder and more insistent. I recognized the voice as my best friend, Sarah. She had come over to visit, and she must have noticed the strange glow coming from the mirror. She had come to investigate.

I called out to her, but my voice was barely a whisper. The walls were closing in faster now, and the candle was almost out. I could feel the heat of the flame on my skin, but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed with fear.

And then, suddenly, the room disappeared. I was back in my own bedroom, and Sarah was standing in front of me, looking concerned.

"What happened?" she asked.

I tried to explain, but the words wouldn't come. It was like the memory of the room was fading, like it had never really existed at all. But I knew it had, and I knew the woman in the mirror was still there, waiting for me to come back.

Over the next few days, I couldn't stop thinking about the mirror. I would catch myself staring at it for hours, trying to see if the woman would appear again. But she never did. It was like she was biding her time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

And then, one night, she did. I was lying in bed, trying to sleep, when I heard a sound. It was like someone was tapping on the glass of the mirror. I sat up, my heart pounding in my chest, and looked at the mirror. The woman was there again, but this time she was different. Her eyes were darker, and her smile was even more sinister.

I tried to look away, but I couldn't. It was like the mirror had a hold on me again, drawing me closer and closer until I was standing right in front of it. And then, suddenly, I was back in the stone room. The walls were closing in on me again, and the woman was standing in the center of the room, laughing.

"You shouldn't have come back," she said. "Now you'll never leave."

I tried to run, but the room was like a maze. The walls kept changing, and I couldn't find my way out. And then, I saw something that made my blood run cold. The woman in the white dress was no longer alone. There were other people in the room now, but they were not like her. They were twisted and distorted, their faces contorted in pain or rage. Some of them had missing limbs, while others were covered in scars and bruises. They were all staring at me with empty eyes, as if I was their next victim.

I screamed for help, but my voice was drowned out by the cacophony of screams and moans that filled the room. I was trapped, with no escape. I thought this was the end for me, that I was going to be torn apart by these monstrous beings.

But then, something strange happened. The walls started to shake, and the floor beneath my feet began to rumble. It was like there was an earthquake happening, but it wasn't a natural disaster. It was something else entirely.

And then, the mirror shattered into a million pieces. The shards flew everywhere, slicing through the air like knives. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came. When I opened them again, I was back in my own bedroom, safe and sound.

I looked around, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The mirror was gone, replaced by a gaping hole in the wall. It was like the room was trying to erase all evidence of what had happened.

But I knew what I had seen, and I knew that it was real. The woman in the white dress, the stone room, the twisted beings... they were all real, and they were still out there, waiting for someone else to stumble upon their trap.

From that day forward, I never looked at mirrors the same way again. I avoided them whenever I could, and when I did have to look in one, I did so with caution. I never wanted to experience what I had gone through again.

But sometimes, late at night, when I'm lying in bed and the world is quiet, I can hear the sound of shattered glass in the distance. It's like a warning, a reminder of what could have happened if I hadn't escaped. And I know that the woman in the white dress is still out there, waiting for her next victim.

The memory of the haunted mirror never truly left me. It lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the horrors that could exist just beyond the surface of our world. I tried to move on, to forget what I had seen, but I knew deep down that it was a futile effort.

Years passed, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, the mirror and its twisted inhabitants had been nothing more than a bad dream. But one day, as I was walking through an antique store, I saw it again. The same ornate mirror, with its twisted vines and tarnished gold frame.

I felt a chill run down my spine as I gazed upon it, and I knew that I couldn't let anyone else fall victim to its horrors. With a deep breath, I gathered my courage and approached the owner of the store.

"I'll buy the mirror," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I need you to promise me something."

The owner raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by my request. "And what's that?"

"Promise me that you'll keep it locked away," I said, my heart pounding in my chest. "Promise me that no one will ever see it again."

The owner looked at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "I promise," she said, her voice barely audible.

I left the store that day, the haunted mirror safely locked away behind me. But I knew that it was only a matter of time before someone else stumbled upon it, before someone else saw the reflection that wasn't their own.

And so I live with the knowledge that somewhere out there, the mirror still exists. That somewhere out there, someone is looking at it, seeing the twisted reality that lies just beyond our own. And I can only hope that they have the strength to escape its grasp, to break free from the horrors that lurk just beyond the glass.