The ghost trapped in a mirror

Sure, here’s a short story based on the theme of a ghost trapped in a mirror. I’ve kept it around 700 words:

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**The Ghost Trapped in the Mirror**

It was late afternoon when Clara stumbled upon the old mirror in the attic of the house she had just moved into. The sun was barely peeking through the attic’s small window, casting a faint light on the dust-covered relic. The mirror stood tall, framed in dark wood that seemed to have been carved with intricate designs, faded with age. It was an odd thing to find in a place like this—unwanted, abandoned, yet untouched by time.

Clara was no stranger to oddities. She had moved into the house with her family, eager to start fresh after a long, difficult year. But this house—this old mansion—held secrets of its own, ones that Clara had yet to understand.

As she wiped away the dust, the reflection in the mirror became clearer. At first, she thought it was just her tired eyes playing tricks. But there, in the reflection, she saw something she couldn’t explain—a face.

A face that wasn’t hers.

Clara took a step back, heart racing. The face in the mirror was pale, with hollow eyes that seemed to stare directly at her. Its expression was a mixture of sadness and yearning, as if it had been waiting for something—or someone—for a long time. The strange thing was, the face didn't move. It stayed frozen, a ghostly figure trapped within the glass.

She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing against the cool surface of the mirror. The air around her grew colder, and a low, almost inaudible whisper filled the room. Clara froze, unsure of whether the sound was in her head or from the reflection itself.

“Help me,” the whisper said.

Clara’s breath hitched. Her hand lingered near the glass, her mind racing. Was it her imagination? Was the house playing tricks on her? Or was there truly something—someone—trapped within the mirror?

The whispering grew louder, more desperate. “Help me, Clara... please.”

She took a step closer, her eyes locked on the reflection. The face seemed to move now, ever so slightly, as if it were trying to reach out to her. Clara’s heartbeat thudded in her ears.

“Who are you?” she whispered, her voice barely a sound in the vastness of the attic.

“I was once... like you,” the ghost replied, its voice hollow and sorrowful. “But I was trapped... I’ve been trapped in this mirror for decades... waiting for someone to release me.”

Clara’s pulse quickened. She didn’t know whether to feel sympathy or fear. The thought of being trapped in such a place for so long was unfathomable.

“Why are you here? Why are you trapped?” Clara asked, her voice trembling.

The ghost’s face twisted in pain. “I was cursed,” it said. “I made a terrible mistake. The mirror… it’s not just a reflection. It’s a prison. A place where souls who have been wronged are kept.”

Clara felt a chill seep through her bones. She didn’t understand, but something in her chest tugged at the ghost’s words. There was sadness in its eyes—an aching, deep sadness that called to something inside her.

“Can I help you?” Clara asked, unsure of how to proceed, but feeling an overwhelming urge to do something, anything.

The ghost’s eyes brightened, as if a glimmer of hope flickered within them. “Yes... you must break the curse,” it whispered. “Find the key... the one who trapped me. Only then will I be free.”

Clara’s mind raced. How could she possibly find the one who had trapped this soul so long ago? She had just moved into this house. But as she looked closer at the mirror’s surface, she noticed something strange—faint symbols etched along the edges of the glass, worn but still visible.

A key. A way out.

“I’ll find them,” Clara vowed, her voice steady with determination. “I’ll set you free.”

The ghost nodded, its face softening. “Thank you,” it whispered, the faintest trace of relief in its voice. “Thank you, Clara.”

As she stepped away from the mirror, the air around her seemed to settle, though the sense of something lingering remained. Clara didn’t know how she would break the curse, but she was determined to try. She knew, somehow, that she couldn’t leave the ghost trapped in the mirror forever.

The attic grew quieter. The faint whispering stopped. And as Clara left the room, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was just the beginning of something far darker than she could have imagined.