The image I saw in the mirror wasn't mine. I glanced at my image in the
mirror and wondered why I appeared different. It wasn't just a physical shift; my aura also seemed different. It appeared as though the reflection was living and was looking back at me. To say the least, it was disturbing.
Trying to convince myself that I was imagining things, I turned away from the reflection. But as I was leaving, I heard a slender murmur that sounded almost like it was coming from my ear. When I looked back in the mirror, the reflection was altered. Even though everything around me had changed, I was still there. There was a feeling of dread in the air as the room became darker, almost as if the lights had been dimmed.
My hand pierced the mirror when I reached out to contact it. It appeared as though the mirror was either a portal to another realm or that it wasn't actually there. I hastily withdrew my palm, unsure of what to do next.
I kept having the impression that something was off for a few days. I couldn't stop thinking about the reflection and felt tense all the time. I made every effort to stay away from it, but every time I passed it, I couldn't help but feel attracted to it.
I once observed the mirror was glowing as I was getting ready for bed. As I approached it, I could see that the image was altering once more. It was even more unusual this time than it had been before. There was a figure standing in the backdrop, and the color of the room in the reflection was entirely different.
The figure in the reflection started to move as I leaned in closer to get a clearer look. My heart was thumping in my chest as it turned its head to gaze directly at me. I stumbled and fell to the ground after stumbling over my own feet.
The figure in the reflection was staring at me with the same intensity that I had been staring at it as I lay there, struggling to catch my breath. a..................
I developed a mirror-related obsession over the ensuing few weeks. I stared into it for hours, attempting to interpret the signals the reflection was conveying to me. And as I continued to gaze, parts of the alternate reality that the mirror had shown me started to bleed into my own.
It started out being trivial stuff. Out of the corner of my eye, I would catch a glimpse of a silhouette moving or hear a whisper that I couldn't quite make out. However, as time passed, the things I heard and saw started to seem more and more genuine.
I once heard a scratching noise emanating from the mirror while I was in bed. As I sat up and focused on hearing, the reflection started to tremble. It appeared as though something was attempting to enter from the other side.
A hand peered out of the mirror and grabbed the frame as I watched in terror. The hand appeared to have been deceased for a considerable amount of time because it was pale and clammy. The remainder of the figure then gradually appeared in the reflection.
It used to be a lady, if not currently. Her eyes were sunken in deep dark sockets, and her skin was gray and mottled. She appeared to be a long-buried corpse, yet someway she was still living.
I yelled and attempted to flee, but the woman was moving too quickly. She seized my arm and drew me in her direction. She had her icy hand around my wrist, and I could sense that there was no way out.
About the Creator
"No one has the power to have everything they want, but it is in their power not to want what they don't have, but to joyfully use what they have." Seneca
"How long will you wait before you demand the best for yourself?" Epictetus