Twisted Reflection

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. As I gazed upon my reflection, I couldn't help but notice a striking difference. It was as if a copy of myself had been imbued with an aura of darkness. My eyes, usually a mere reflection, now seemed to be staring back at me with an intense glare. I couldn't help but wonder if I had been smiling like that all along. I reached up to touch the contours of my face, and watched as the being in the mirror mimicked my every move.

"I can't believe this is happening," I muttered to myself, trying to convince myself that what I was feeling wasn't real. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, hoping that when I opened them, the feeling would be gone. But it wasn't. I splashed cold water on my face and left the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind me.

As I walked back to my bedroom, I couldn't help but feel shaken. The walls were covered in pictures of a life that had been stolen from me. My husband, Daniel, had recently passed away, leaving a gaping hole of grief and depression in my heart. I wasn't sure if I would ever recover from it.

You see, I was the one who found my husband. The sight of his body hanging from that tree has been burned into my brain. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing his bloated and bruised face staring blankly back at me while I screamed from the agony of losing him.

Despite the pain, I knew I had to keep going. I had to find a way to move forward and honour his memory. It wasn't going to be easy, but I was determined to try.

As I lay in bed, sleep eluded me, and I began to hear faint tapping sounds emanating from the hallway that separated my bedroom and bathroom. The taps were slow and deliberate, like someone was pounding on glass. I listened intently as the tapping continued, growing louder and more persistent with each passing moment.

Despite my apprehension, I couldn't resist the urge to investigate the source of the sound. I cautiously made my way towards the door, my eyes fixed on the shadowy figure lurking in the hallway. I knew that something sinister was lurking there, yet I couldn't help but move closer.

As I approached the door, the tapping grew louder and more insistent, beckoning me to come closer. I knew that I was being lured into danger, yet I couldn't resist the pull of the unknown. With each step, my heart raced faster, and my palms grew slick with sweat.

With trembling hands, I finally reached the door and pushed it open slowly. What I saw on the other side left me frozen with fear, unable to move or speak. The source of the tapping was revealed, and it was far more terrifying than I could have ever imagined. It was Daniel, my deceased husband, standing before me. I felt the color drain from my face as I wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

I couldn't believe he was here, but the closer I looked at him, the more I noticed. Yes, this was my husband, but he didn't quite look like himself. A dark yet sullen energy radiated from him. We stood staring at each other for what felt like an eternity when he slowly started to turn away from me and make his way towards the bathroom. The door opened, and I watched as he moved to the mirror. He turned back to face me and spoke, "Come with me." The words seemed to have an eerie echo to them, no less compelling.

Daniel then seemingly stepped into the mirror, disappearing completely. My mind was racing with questions and confusion. Was this a dream? Was I hallucinating? I couldn't make sense of what had just happened. But one thing was for sure, I needed to find out what was going on.

I took a deep breath and followed Daniel into the mirror. As soon as I entered, I heard the sound of shattering glass behind me. The mirror had disintegrated, and I was now trapped.