The Mirror in Room 313

They told her not to stay in Room 313.

But Zara was never the type to believe in ghost stories.

It was her first solo trip, and the vintage hotel in Murree felt like the perfect place to unwind. The receptionist hesitated when she requested Room 313, but Zara insisted.

"It’s just a room. What could possibly happen?"

That night, the cold crept in earlier than usual. The wooden walls groaned with the mountain wind. Zara sipped her tea and sat in front of the antique mirror.

That’s when she noticed it.

In the reflection — her — and someone else standing behind her.

She turned around.

No one.

She laughed nervously. “Too many horror movies,” she whispered.

But when she looked back at the mirror…

…the reflection didn’t match her anymore.

The Zara in the mirror was still staring back. But this version smiled slowly. Its eyes were hollow, dark. The real Zara gasped. The mirror-Zara mimicked her late — as if learning how to behave like her.

Then it raised its hand… and tapped from the inside of the mirror.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Zara dropped her cup. The lights flickered. Her breath misted in the air as the temperature dropped.

She tried to look away. She couldn’t.

Her reflection whispered something:

“Let me out.”

She backed away — but her legs froze.

Then the reflection smiled wider.

And suddenly, Zara was no longer in the room.

She was inside the mirror.

And the thing that stepped out wearing her face?

It picked up her phone. Smiled.

And replied to her friend’s message:

“Having the best trip of my life 😇”

---

✍️ Author’s Note:

Be careful what room you choose. Some reflections… aren’t yours.