The Mirror

I found the mirror at a yard sale. It was old, but the frame looked sturdy. It wasn’t anything special, but something about it caught my eye. I don’t know what made me buy it. I wasn’t even looking for a mirror.

The seller didn’t seem to care much about it. “It’s been in the family for years,” she said. “I think it’s just a little... odd. But you can have it for cheap.”

I paid her and took it home. At first, nothing happened. It just hung on my wall, like any other mirror. But then, things started to feel different. At night, I would catch myself staring into it, not sure for how long. Sometimes I saw things in the reflection that didn’t match what was around me. Shadows moving when I wasn’t.

I didn’t tell anyone about it. They would think I was crazy. But the mirror kept calling to me. Each time I looked, it felt harder to look away.

One evening, I stood in front of it, trying to avoid the strange feeling creeping up on me. But then I saw something new. A figure, standing just behind me in the reflection. At first, I thought it was a trick of the light, but it wasn’t. I could see the figure clearly, like it was real.

I turned around quickly, but no one was there.

I went back to the mirror. The figure was still there. It stood still, just staring at me.

I tried to ignore it, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. I started having nightmares. I would wake up in the middle of the night and see that figure standing by my bed, staring at me. It felt so real, like it was waiting for something.

One night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I went to the mirror and tried to touch the figure. My fingers brushed the glass, but it didn’t feel like glass. It felt... wrong. Cold. Empty.

Suddenly, I felt something grab my wrist. I yanked my hand away, but it didn’t let go. I looked into the mirror. The figure was closer now, its face inches from mine. It was smiling, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was wide and stretched too far.

I couldn’t pull away. I tried, but my hand stayed stuck, pressing against the glass. The figure leaned in closer, and I could hear a voice, faint but clear.

“You can’t leave now.”

The voice was soft, but it felt like it was inside my head. I finally managed to tear my hand away, but I couldn’t stop looking into the mirror. The figure grinned wider, as if it had won.

I didn’t sleep that night. The next day, I took the mirror down. I wrapped it in a blanket and put it in the back of my closet. But when I checked, I saw it.

The mirror was back on the wall. And the figure was waiting for me again.