The Reflection That Wasn’t Mine
Lena had always hated mirrors. Ever since she was a child, she felt uneasy around them, as if something lurked just beyond the glass.
But in her new apartment, there was one she couldn’t avoid—a tall, antique mirror bolted to the wall. She considered covering it, but something about its intricate frame, carved with twisting vines and strange symbols, fascinated her.
One night, as she passed by, she noticed something odd. Her reflection wasn’t moving in sync. It was subtle—a slight delay in the blink, a fraction of a second where her double’s smile seemed… wrong. She laughed it off, blaming exhaustion.
Then it got worse.
The next evening, as she brushed her hair, her reflection stopped mid-motion. Lena’s hands were still moving, but the woman in the mirror had frozen, staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes.
She backed away, heart pounding. "It’s just in my head," she whispered.
But the next night, it spoke.
"You don’t belong here," the reflection said in a voice that wasn’t hers.
Lena ran. She called her friend, begged her to come over, but before she could leave the apartment, the lights flickered, and the room grew cold.
She turned back to the mirror.
Her reflection was grinning.
Then it stepped out.
And Lena realized—she was the one trapped inside the glass.
She screamed, pounded against the surface, but all she could do was watch as the other Lena—the thing pretending to be her—walked away.
And no one ever noticed the difference.
