It started with little things my reflection not quite matching my movements, a flicker of a shadow behind me when the bathroom light was off. I told myself it was just my imagination until one night, staring into the mirror, I saw it clearly a figure standing just behind my reflection, watching me with eyes full of cold intent. When I turned around, nothing was there. But every night since, that presence has grown bolder, appearing for longer and closer each time I look.
I tried covering the mirror, but the feeling never left. Sometimes, I swear I hear whispers coming from the glass, begging me to “look deeper.” Fear gnaws at me what if it’s not just watching, but waiting for me to join it inside I’m trapped between two worlds, and the mirror is the door. And every time I glance into it, I’m one step closer to losing myself completely. Shutdown123