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A creepy story about delusions and warped perception.

By Donna Fox (HKB)Published about a year ago Updated about a year ago 13 min read
Photo by pawel szvmanski on Unsplash

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. Or rather, it wasn’t a reflection of my present self. But my younger self, from around age 7.

Shaken, I glanced around the dark hall of mirrors. All the lights above the other mirrors had gone out, the only one that was still lit was the one above my mirror. I glanced at the other mirrors that were shrouded in darkness, empty of any reflection.

I turned back to my mirror, seeing the same reflection I had moments ago. 

My golden hair was styled in long pigtails that hung down to my belly button, it sat in little ringlets. Just like my mother used to do them in.

As I observed my reflection, she tilted her head side to side in a creepy curious sort of way. That was when I saw, the difference between her and myself.

Her eyes were pale green and mine are distinctly pale blue.

Leaving me to conclude that this wasn’t my reflection but that of my twin sister, Meredith.

This added a new layer of discomfort to the experience as I hadn’t seen Meredith since the car accident. The one where she died, sitting in the car seat next to me. That was nearly 20 years ago now.

My gut tied itself in knots as anxiety and fear began to overtake me. I fought to keep my breathing under control and remind myself that this was just a trick of the light. This was something the mirror was designed to do. Right?

Hoping this was some kind of hologram, I reached out to touch the mirror. Thinking maybe the image would change if I disturbed it.

But I was only half disappointed when that wasn’t the case. My hand pressed against the cold hard glass and Meredith moved her hand to touch mine.

My attention was drawn back to her face. Shock and horror wrapped my body as I panicked, watching blood begin to seep from her eyes, nose, ears, and out of the corner of her mouth.

I felt frozen in place, unable to look away or even react in any sort of way.

“Why won’t you play with me, Molly?” Meredith’s small child-like voice rang out. Sending a chill down my spine as it echoed in the empty hall of mirrors.

The light above our mirror began to flicker uncontrollably, like a strobe light.

My legs turned to jelly as I crumpled to the floor curled into a ball. Crying and covering my ears as I squeezed my eyes shut.

I began to mutter, “She isn’t real.” Over and over as I rocked back and forth.

Meanwhile, the light above us burned out and the hall of mirrors fell into dark ominous silence.

I continued rocking in place, keeping my eyes shut tight and ears covered.

But in the silence, my mind began to wander. Suddenly the image of the last time I saw Meredith alive, popped into my head.

The image of Meredith’s limp, lifeless, blood-covered body sitting in the car seat beside me, appeared. Her head was lulled to the side with her eyes still wide open, and dark dried blood left trails from her ears, eyes, nose, and mouth.

Similar to how it did in the mirror moments ago.

I reached out and grabbed her hand as it stiffly hung to the side. It felt cold like it’d been submerged in ice-cold water.

“Mare?” I called in a small voice but was met with silence. “Mare?” I repeated, pulling at her cold hand in desperation.

Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed me around the waist and pulled me from the car and that was the last I saw her.

Until about a year after, when I was playing in my room.

My mother was working in the office and my father was at work, so I was left to my own devices at that moment.

The next thing I remember is my bedroom door creaking open and goosebumps raising on my arms as a cold breeze entered.

Suddenly Meredith appeared in the corner of my room, sitting at a table. Having tea with a few of my stuffed animals, acting as though she’d always been there.

I now know I should have been disturbed by her sudden appearance, but at that moment I wasn’t. I felt like a missing piece of me had suddenly returned.

Over the next year, I would continue to play alongside her and even talk to her on occasion. She would answer back and suggest different things during our play. Just as she had when she was alive.

One time when we were 8, about a year after she reappeared. Meredith suggested we go play outside near the pool.

All was well until one of my dolls fell into the water and Meredith suggested I reach in and grab it. But as I did, I felt something bump into my back and I fell into the pool with an exaggerated splash.

Unable to swim, I panicked. Screaming, flailing, and gasping for air.

Eventually, my head sunk below the water's surface and I took in gulps of water instead of air, until my world went black.

The next thing I remember is laying on the warm sundeck with mother sitting over me. Shaking me and crying as she did so.

I hadn’t seen her this upset since Meredith’s death.

As I eventually came back to my senses, I sat up and felt my mother’s warm embrace as she wrapped me in her worried arms.

“What were you thinking, my little dove?” She asked, cradling me and rocking with me.

I tried to explain that I was outside playing with Meredith but mother interrupted to tell me that Meredith wasn’t around anymore.

Making me feel foolish and confused, so I said nothing more on the subject. But as I sat with mother, I saw Meredith sitting on the edge of the pool across the way, waving with a cunning smile.

Over the rest of that year, I would often try to talk about Meredith with my mother or father. Always met by a questioning look and reminders that she isn’t around anymore. Or it would be brushed off as though she were a figment of my imagination, something like an imaginary friend.

A year after the pool incident, Meredith had made another suggestion.

She thought our room smelled musty and asked me to light a candle with matches. This venture didn’t go as poorly as the previous one, mother had stopped me before anything had happened.

But still, she questioned what I was thinking, and when I tried to explain that Meredith had thought our room smelled musty. She reminded me yet again that Meredith is gone. Accompanied by the suggestion that maybe it was time to stop playing with Meredith if she was choosing such dangerous activities.

Over this year, I continued to talk about Meredith but my parent's demeanour began to change. They would share looks of worry and whispered conversations when they thought I was out of earshot.

When I was 10, everything changed.

One day Meredith suggested we play on the trampoline outside.

She recommended I jump off the shed onto the trampoline, so I could do a complete flip.

This sounded like a great idea, so I climbed onto the shed and as I went to jump, my mother let out a yell of terror. Losing focus and balance I missed the trampoline and fell to the ground.

The last thing I remember before the hospital was a deafening crunch and searing pain in my legs.

I woke up with both my legs in casts, and bumps and bruises littered my body. I ached everywhere.

My mother cried with relief as my eyes opened and my father ran to my side. 

The first words out of his mouth were, “What were you thinking?”

My mother cringed before the words even left my mouth.

“Meredith thought-“

“No.” My father interrupted in a calm but shaking voice.

Mother began to weep, “I asked you not to play with her any-“

“No, no, no, no, no.” Father interrupted, “Molly, enough. Meredith isn’t around anymore and you have to stop blaming your bad decisions on her. She’s gone and she’s not coming back.” He lectured, with a heavy breath as he fought to remain in control.

Next, the doctor poked his head into the room and asked to speak to my parents privately.

Through the window, I could see all adults shared looks of concern. Even the doctor as he seemed to be explaining something both grim and complicated. 

My father would jump in and argue a counterpoint, it looked like.

While mother just stood there with her hand over her mouth in horror.

Meanwhile, Meredith sat in the room with me. Flipping through a magazine casually. She looked up at me, then over her shoulder to the adults, and returned to her magazine.

“They're talking about you, you know.” She stated absentmindedly, still flipping through the magazine.

“Obviously.” I stated, “What do you think they are saying?” I inquired, straining my neck as though that might help me hear better.

“They think you’re crazy.” She commented, not bothering to look up.

“But I’m not crazy,” I argued, giving her an incredulous look.

“Could have fooled me.” She stated, just as the door began to open.

The doctor walked in and closed the door behind himself, giving me a weak smile as he did so.

“Hello Molly,” he began. Giving the chair I had been looking at a glance before returning his attention to me.

I stole a glance as he did and saw that Meredith had left us. Mom and dad stood at the window looking worried.

“I wanted to talk to you about your sister Meredith.” He continued, drawing my attention back to him. “I understand that she passed away around 3 years ago, but you still see her. Is that correct?” He inquired, looking as though he were trying to choose his words delicately.

“Sometimes,” I admitted, bowing my head in shame as I shot another shameful look at my parents in the window.

The doctor walked over and closed the curtains, “Do you see her now?” He asked, turning to face me with a soft curious expression.

“No,” I replied, glancing around to be sure.

“Have you seen her today?” He asked, his eyes following my gaze around the room.

“Yes.” I admitted, “But I know that she isn’t real.” I added abruptly, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“You don’t think she’s real?” He asked, tilting his head in curiosity as he took a seat across from me.

“She can’t be.” I began, trying to choose my words carefully. “She can appear and disappear, real people can’t do that,” I explained, looking at my casted feet.

“Do you also understand that it isn’t normal to see, hear or talk to people that aren’t real?” He asked delicately, his eyes showing a note of sympathy as he spoke.

I nodded, unable to find words.

“Okay. Thank you, Molly.” He stated, standing up and approaching the door. “I will go talk to your parents again.” He explained, leaving and closing the door behind himself.

“See? They think you’re crazy.” Meredith stated, suddenly appearing and reading the magazine again.

“Shut up.” I snapped, just as the door opened.

My parents and the doctor entered, closing the door behind them.

My mother's face was tear stricken, my father was careworn and the doctor looked to the spot my eyes had been again.

My parents sat on either side of me and the doctor stood at the foot of my bed.

“Molly, your parents and I have agreed that it’s time to say goodbye to Meredith.” He began tentatively.

“I would like to give you some medicine that will make it so you never see or hear from her again.” He explained although it sounded kind of like a question.

Immediately Meredith stood up and let out a yell of anger. “No!” She shouted.

I agreed with a silent nod, trying not to pay attention to Meredith.

I was given a little cup with a pill in it.

As I put it in my mouth and swallowed, Meredith screamed and pounded her fists on my bed. Begging me not to do it.

Within minutes she had disappeared and I had never seen her again.

Until tonight.

I was sitting before the mirror in the fun house. Still rocking back and forth with my hands over my ears. I timidly opened my eyes as the light above me came back on. I reminded myself “she isn’t real.” Over and over as I looked to the floor and forced myself to stand back up, before looking back in the mirror.

As I lifted my chin to see all the lights in the hall of mirrors were turned on. But they were on the other side of the mirror. I suddenly realize that I’m inside the mirror and Meredith is standing on the other side. The side with the real world, smiling and waving at me as she feigned innocence.

A strangled cry escapes my lips but no sound comes out, I begin to cry again. Pounding on the glass, in desperation.

“Bye, Molly!” She called, turning on her heels and skipping out of view as the lights in the hall of mirrors begin to turn off systematically. Two by two until mine is the last one lit and then the light went out, leaving me in darkness.

I awaken with a start, jumping in my bed. I am covered in a thick layer of sweat, feeling cold and clammy. My hands are bound to the bed in leather restraints as are my feet. I’m wearing a patient gown and my arms are covered in cuts and bruises. It looked like I fell through a pane of glass.

I sit there in silence, completely stunned until someone enters.

A nurse entered to check my vitals, “You’re awake.” She states in a cheery voice.

“Where’s Meredith?” I blurted, feeling my heart begin to race at the mention of her name.

“I’ll let the doctor know you are awake.” She replies, ignoring my question.

Moments later the doctor appeared, the same one who gave me the medicine when I was young.

“Where’s Meredith?” I blurted again, huffing as I half shouted.

“Who?” He asked, drawing back as he closed the door behind himself.

“My sister, Meredith,” I explained, my chest still heaving as fatigue began to set in.

“Do you know where you are right now?” He asked, ignoring my questions.

“What does that have to-“

“Do you know where you are?” He repeated, crossing his arms and giving me a look of impatience.

“I’m in a hospital.” I answer, “But-“

“Do you know why you are here?” He inquired, continuing to interrupt me.

“I fell through a mirror?” I answered and asked all in one, taking another look at my cut-up arms.

“You’ve been having delusions.” He began, flaring his nostrils.

“No, it’s real. She’s real.” I began to shout, feeling the strain on my voice.

“Molly, you broke a mirror in a fun house because you thought you were trapped inside of it. You thought someone had escaped from the mirror. Someone you claimed to be your twin sister but you’ve never had a sister, you have always been an only child. You were never in a car accident. Everything you claim to know is not as you think it is.” He explained, giving me a look that suggested he felt sorry for me.

I sat stunned, unable to find words to argue. My ears rang with the silence as my perceived life began to replay in my mind again. Everything I thought I knew was not as it seemed.


About the Creator

Donna Fox (HKB)

Thank you for stopping by!! 💚💙💜🩵

If you are interested in longer works by me, I have two books published on Amazon.

Jogger's Trail and Fox in The Hole.

Reader insights


Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

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  1. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

  2. Easy to read and follow

    Well-structured & engaging content

  3. Expert insights and opinions

    Arguments were carefully researched and presented

  1. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

  2. On-point and relevant

    Writing reflected the title & theme

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    The story invoked strong personal emotions

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Comments (14)

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  • JBaz4 months ago

    Holy crap this should have been top story at the very least. So freak'n creepy all the way through but then the ending WTF? absolutely a classic piece of yours that deserves more reads. This would definitely been my pick for your graveyard challenge.

  • Rereading this was as good as the first time. But now I wonder what was Molly doing in a fun house alone? Like who did she go with? People usually go with friends or family. I've not heard of anyone who went alone. That's no fun at all. So that means, Molly must have been so mentally disturbed to have ended up in the fun house alone. Lol, I have no idea. But her hallucinations seemed to vivid and real. Oooo, what if the doctor is the one who's lying and gaslighting her, lol!

  • Whoaaaa, she didn't even have a twin? That's messed up! Poor Molly. I was so immersed in this story! Loved it so much!

  • Caroline Craven12 months ago

    Holy moly! This was fabulous! I didn’t see the final twist at the end! Fantastic!!

  • Mariann Carrollabout a year ago

    That was an excellent story

  • Shadow Jamesabout a year ago

    Wonderful!! I couldn't stop. You had my complete attention. You're very talented. Maybe I'll read your book someday. Maybe you'll give James Patterson a little competition. Lol

  • Novel Allenabout a year ago

    Wow! This is so great. Well worth the very long wait. ❤🤍💛💜. Really wonderful storytelling. I also love the cover pic. Very eye catching. You have done so great with this one. The twists and plots were def well thought out. Just one their 'their talking about you, you know". They are or they're or something like that I think. Otherwise not a thing to complain about. Wonderful job here.

  • Manikanda Ramanabout a year ago

    I really like it Donna. you done a great job

  • Harmony Kentabout a year ago

    Nice twist there, Donna 💕🙂

  • Quincy.Vabout a year ago

    Clear, concise, and easy to understand, making it accessible to a wide range of readers.💘💝💖

  • aly suhailabout a year ago

    This was a great piece of writing.

  • Sham gowthamabout a year ago

    Excellent writing keep going Mr donna fox love...

  • Rey Visionaryabout a year ago

    Wow, Soo engaging and interesting. 👌

  • Naomi Goldabout a year ago

    What?? 🤯 Haha, I did not see that ending coming at all! This is a very unique take on the challenge.

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