Broken Mirror

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't mine. It was a face I didn't recognize, but there was something about it that made my skin crawl. The longer I stared into the glass, the more I felt as though I was being pulled into another world.

I had inherited the antique mirror from my grandmother who had always claimed that it was cursed. She had never been able to look at it without feeling a sense of unease. I had always thought it was just a superstition until that day.

At first, I thought it was just a trick of the light, but as I moved closer to the mirror, I could see that the face in the reflection was not mine. It was a woman's face, with dark hair and deep-set eyes that seemed to follow my every move.

I stepped back from the mirror, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that was creeping up my spine. But the more I tried to distance myself from the mirror, the stronger its pull became.

Days went by, and every time I passed by the mirror, I couldn't help but glance at my reflection, just to see if the woman was still there. And every time, she was. It was as if the mirror was taunting me, daring me to confront the woman in the reflection.

One night, I couldn't take it anymore. I stood before the mirror, staring at the woman's face, and suddenly, the mirror seemed to shatter into a million pieces. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, and everything went black.

When I woke up, I was in a different room, in a different world. It was as if I had been transported to an alternate reality. Everything was familiar, but nothing was quite right. The colors were muted, and the shadows were deeper.

As I explored this strange new world, I soon realized that it was bleeding into my own. Objects from an alternate reality were appearing in my bedroom, and I could feel the influence of that world growing stronger with each passing moment.

I tried to find a way back to my reality, but every time I tried to leave the house, I found myself back in the same room. It was as if the house was a prison, trapping me in this twisted version of reality.

As the days went by, I became increasingly desperate. I tried everything I could think of to break the connection between the two worlds, but nothing worked. And with each passing moment, the world of the mirror grew stronger, until it felt as though it was going to consume me entirely.

One night, as I lay in bed, I heard a voice whispering to me from the mirror. It was the voice of the woman in the reflection, and she was telling me that there was a way out, but I would have to pay a price.

Desperate for a way out, I agreed to whatever she asked. And then, in a flash of light, I found myself back in my reality. But the price I had paid was high. The woman in the mirror had taken my place in an alternate reality, and I knew that she would be trapped there forever.

From that day on, I avoided the mirror at all costs. I knew the dangers that lay within its depths, and I knew that I could never trust it again. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can still hear the voice of the woman in the reflection, whispering to me from beyond the glass. And I wonder if someday, she will find a way to break free and return to our world.